On the Edge of the Wilderness 
CHAPTER I 
“THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE” 
HE trouble with Swiftfoot, the big gray tim- 
ber wolf, undoubtedly was that he didn’t 
know he was extinct in that part of America. All 
the wise books said he was, so, quite obviously, he 
had'no business there. As a matter of fact, 
neither he nor his companion was making any 
public display. Swiftfoot had nothing to fear in 
the deep woods. There were no panthers. The 
Canada lynx might snarl at him, or fight him if 
he tried to take away its kill—but he never tried. 
From the lumbering black bears he could easily 
run away, if there were any occasion. There 
wouldn’t be, of course, unless he attempted to se- 
cure a little juicy cub steak. For the rest, he 
was master of the forest. But there was one 
thing he dreaded, dreaded with an abiding fear, 
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