16 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
him. But he was a wolf, and respected the in- 
stinct of self-preservation. Beside, he was glad 
enough to have companions. When Softfur had 
recovered consciousness, the three of them, seeing 
but three dead bodies, howled a signal to the other 
three, the missing ones. There was no answer. 
Fang had been the only one, so far as he knew, to 
escape. One other, attempting it, had been shot 
down. Evidently the two-legged creatures had 
carried off three of the bodies. Without further 
ado, the starved survivors fell on the carcases of 
their own recent companions, and got back their 
strength. 
Even as they were eating, a flock of great 
‘horned owls went by overhead, flying south. 
Northward lay deeper snow, harder hunting, and 
northward the terrible two-legged creatures with 
guns had gone. Southward the owls must know 
there was game, rabbits and partridges, anyway, 
or they wouldn’t be flying that way. The three 
wolves rose, shook themselves, slunk off the 
trail into the timber, and trotted south. 
They traveled and hunted chiefly at night, and 
rested by day mm dry caves or under thick stands 
