66 
Northern Trails. Book I 
up from the sand and trot back to the woods, each with 
a burden on its shoulders and a sparkle in the close-set 
eyes over the pointed jaws, which were closed on the 
neck of a goose, holding it tight lest any outcry escape 
to tell the startled flock what had happened. 
Besides this abundant game there were other good 
things to eat, and the cubs rarely dined of the same 
dish twice in succession. Salmon and big sea-trout 
swarmed now in every shallow of the clear brooks, 
and, after spawning, these fish were much weakened 
and could easily be caught by a little cunning. Every 
day and night the tide ebbed and flowed, and every tide 
left its contribution in windrows of dead herring and 
caplin, with scattered crabs and mussels for a relish, like 
plums in a pudding. A wolf had only to trot for a mile 
or two along the tide line of a lonely beach, picking up 
the good things which the sea had brought him, and 
then go back to sleep or play satisfied. And if Wayeeses 
wanted game to try his mettle and cunning, there were 
the big fat seals barking on the black rocks, and he had 
only to cut between them and the sea and throw himself 
upon the largest seal as the herd floundered ponderously 
back to safety. A wolf rarely grips and holds an enemy; 
he snaps and lets go, and snaps again at every swift 
chance; but here he must either hold fast or lose his big 
game; and what between holding and letting go, as the 
seals whirled with bared teeth and snapped viciously iii 
