&9 
The White Wolf's Hunting 
practically impossible, even for a wolf, to find it. When 
a wolf has fed full he can go a week without eating and 
suffer no great discomfort. So Wayeeses would lie close 
and warm while the snow piled deep around him and the 
gale raged over the sea and mountains, but passed unfelt 
and unheeded over his head. Then, when the storm was 
over, he pawed his way up through the drift and came 
out in a new, bright world, where the game, with appe¬ 
tites sharpened by the long fast, was already stirring 
briskly in every covert. 
When March came, the bitterest month of all for the 
Wood Folk, even Wayeeses was often hard pressed to 
find a living. Small game grew scarce and very wild; 
the caribou had wandered far away to other ranges; and 
the cubs would dig for hours after a mouse, or stalk a 
snowbird, or wait with endless patience for a red squirrel 
to stop his chatter and come down to search under the 
snow for a fir cone that he had hidden there in the good 
autumn days. And once, when the hunger within was 
more nipping than the eager cold without, one of the 
cubs found a bear sleeping in his winter den among 
the rocks. With a sharp hunting cry, that sang like a 
bullet over the frozen wastes, he called the whole pack 
about him. While the rest lay in hiding the old he-wolf 
approached warily and scratched Mooween out of his 
den, and then ran away to entice the big brute into the 
open ground, where the pack rolled in upon him and 
