59 
The Way of the Wolf 
learned the trick — so an old chief told me, and it is one 
of the traditions of his people — from watching the timber 
wolves in their stealthy advance over the open places. 
The wolves were stealing through the woods all 
together, one late summer afternoon, having beaten a 
cover without taking anything, when the puzzled cubs 
suddenly found themselves alone. A moment before 
they had been trotting along with the old wolves, 
nosing every cranny and knot hole for mice and grubs, 
and stopping often for a roll and frolic, as young cubs 
do in the gladness of life; now they pressed close 
together, looking, listening, while a subtle excitement 
filled all the woods. For the old wolves had dis¬ 
appeared, shooting ahead in great, silent bounds, while 
the cubs waited with ears cocked and noses quivering, 
as if a silent command had been understood. 
The silence was intense ; not a sound, not a stir in 
the quiet woods, which seemed to be listening with the 
cubs and to be filled with the same thrilling expectation. 
Suddenly the silence was broken by heavy plunges far 
ahead, crash ! bump ! bump ! and there broke forth such 
an uproar of yaps and howls as the cubs had never 
heard before. Instantly they broke away on the trail, 
joining their shrill yelpings to the clamor, so different 
from the ordinary stealthy wolf hunt, and filled with a 
nameless excitement which they did not at all under¬ 
stand till the reek of caribou poured into their hungry 
