42 
Northern Trails. Book I 
absent. Moreover, it is useless to dissimulate, to go out 
and play and then to be sleeping innocently with the 
cubs when the old wolf’s shadow darkens the entrance. 
No concealment is possible from wolf’s nose; before she 
enters the den the mother knows perfectly all that has 
happened since she went away. So the days glided by 
peacefully between sleep and play, the cubs trusting 
absolutely in the strength and tenderness that watched 
over them, the mother building the cubs’ future on the 
foundation of the two instincts which are strong in 
every wild creature born into a world of danger, — the 
instinct to lie still and let nature’s coloring hide all 
defenseless little ones, and the instinct to obey instantly 
a stronger will than their own. 
There was no fear as yet, only instinctive wariness; 
for fear comes largely from others’ example, from alarms 
and excitement and cries of danger, which only the 
grown animals understand. The old wolf had been 
undisturbed; no dog or hunter had chased her; no 
trap or pitfall had entangled her swift feet. Moreover, 
she had chosen her den well, w T here no man had ever 
stood, and where only the eyes of two children had seen 
her at a distance. So the little ones grew and played in 
the sunshine, and had yet to learn what fear meant. 
One day at dusk the mother entered swiftly and, with¬ 
out giving them food as she had always done, seized a 
cub and disappeared. For the little one, which had 
