88 
Northern Trails. Book I 
they picked up what game came in their way, and 
scarcely felt the eager cold that nipped at their ears, 
or the wind, keen as an icicle, that strove to penetrate 
the shaggy white coats that covered them. When their 
hunger was satisfied, or when the late day came and 
found them still hunting hopefully, they would push 
their way into the thick scrub from one of the numerous 
paths and lie down on a nest of leaves, which even in 
midwinter were dry as if no snow or rain had ever fallen. 
There, where no wind or gale however strong could pen¬ 
etrate, and with the snow filling the low branches over¬ 
head and piled over them in a soft, warm blanket three 
feet thick, they would push their sensitive noses into 
their own thick fur to keep them warm, and sleep com¬ 
fortably till the early twilight came and called them out 
again to the hunting. 
At times, when not near the scrub, they would burrow 
deep into a great drift of snow and sleep in the warmest 
kind of a nest, — a trick that the husky dogs, which are 
but wolves of yesterday, still remember. Like all wild 
animals, they felt the coming of a storm long before the 
first white flakes began to whirl in the air; and when a 
great storm threatened they would lie down to sleep 
in a cave, or a cranny of the rocks, and let the drifts pile 
soft and warm over them. However long the storm, 
they never stirred abroad; partly for their own comfort, 
partly because all game lies hid at such times and it is 
