19 
Where the Trail Begins 
and blue and boundless, with tiny white sails dancing 
over it, winking and flashing like entangled bits of sun¬ 
shine ; and since the eyes of a cub, like those of a little 
child, cannot judge distances, one stretched a paw at the 
nearest sail, miles away, to turn it over and make it go 
the other way. They turned up their heads sidewise 
and blinked at the sky, all blue and calm and infinite, 
with white clouds sailing over it like swans on a limpid 
lake; and one stood up on his hind legs and reached up 
both paws, like a kitten, to pull down a cloud to play 
with. Then the wind stirred a feather near them, the 
white feather of a ptarmigan which they had eaten yes¬ 
terday, and forgetting the big world and the sail and the 
cloud, the cubs took to playing with the feather, chasing 
and worrying and tumbling over each other, while the 
gaunt old mother wolf looked down from her rock and 
watched and was satisfied. 
