A RACE FOR LIFE. 43 



be seen, prowling stealthily along, prying with restless eyes on eveiy side, seeking 

 for prey. His colour serves well to conceal him from view, as it is almost as white 

 as the snow on which he treads ; yet by the long nose, sharp-pointed ears, and 

 thick, bushy tail, we recognize without difficulty the unwearied scavenger, the 

 cowardly, cunning, quick-witted, formidable white wolf of the prairies of the western 

 world. How well he knows that of all times this is the best for him f that when 

 the snow is deep, and covered with a slight crust, he can creep up to, and surprise 

 his unsuspecting prey, or easily weary him if he attempts to escape by flight. 



We will watch him as he steals along, and see if he will be successful this 

 morning. So quietly he moves, trotting slowly on, sniffing the air as though he 

 already scented the prey, and stopping every now and then to look back over his 

 shoulder, as if he expected to see some more of his silvery-coated brethren follow- 

 ing in his tracks. A little way beyond is a clump of cotton-wood trees fringing 

 a narrow stream, and as the wind bends their stiffened boughs, and then whirls 

 the snow in front of our four-footed hunter, he suddenly stops, and after a few 

 quickly drawn sniffs, turns himself towards the grove, advances a short distance, 

 then sits down upon his haunches, and seems to deliberate upon his next move. 

 Evidently his keen scent has discovered something amid tljose moaning trees, that 

 sway and bend in the piercing wind, as though complaining of the fierce blast that 

 threatens to shear them of some of their fair proportions. With great circumspection 

 he approaches nearer, and makes half the circuit of the grove, endeavouring to look 

 into its recesses, for hungry as he may be, he is too cowardly or cautious to dash 

 in, although his nose has already told him what is there. Now his quick eye must 

 have discovered some object, for see ! he is becoming excited, the hair rises along 

 his back, and with a few quick jumps that make the snow fly on every side, he 

 suddenly squats upon his haunches and gives forth a long shrill-drawn howl, that is 

 carried in dismal cadences far over the plain. And now we too perceive the cause of 

 his movements. 



As the mournful cry is uttered, from his lair among the trees, tossing 

 his antlers proudly aloft, suddenly springs to his feet a male Wapiti, who with 

 undaunted front, turns to face his apparently insignificant foe. The noble deer 

 does not advance from his retreat, but the curling upper lip, grinding of the teeth, 

 and ominous tosses of the armed head plainly foretell the kind of reception his 

 adversary is likely to meet with, should he desire to seek a closer acquaintance. 



