30 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
nered, and then closed in for.the operation. The 
doe, alive to the terrible danger, kept the fawn 
behind her, almost between her hind legs, and by 
whirling and threatening with her powerful and 
cruelly sharp hoofs stood the wolves off. One on 
one side, one on the other, they snarled and 
leaped, just out of reach of those plunging hoofs, 
trying to get at the fawn’s throat or shoulder. 
Swiftfoot knew the game, and had no trouble in 
escaping. He was willing to take his time, well 
aware that his wind and strength would outlast 
the deer’s. But little Softfur, impetuous and 
tremendously excited, made one dash too close, 
and down came the lance-like hoofs, crash on her 
spine and ribs. She crumpled up. With a wild 
snarl, Swiftfoot was at the doe’s throat, but it was 
too late. One hoof had gone right through the 
little wolf’s back and into her heart. She was 
dead. 
Swiftfoot, in a kind of blind fury, killed the 
deer, but the meat was without savor. He stayed 
near that spot for several days, till the deer was 
finished, yet not so much to finish the meat as be- 
cause he felt a dumb grief, a sense of loneliness. 
