9i 
The White Wolf's Hunting 
the twilight and followed him stealthily. The old Indian 
was swinging along, silent as a shadow of the woods, his 
gun on his shoulder and some skins on his back, heading 
swiftly for the little hut under the cliff, where he bur¬ 
rowed for the night as snug as a bear in his den. An 
old wolf would have known instantly the danger, for man 
alone bites at a distance; but the lop-eared cub, which 
was larger than his brother and therefore the leader, 
raised his head for the hunting cry. The first yap had 
hardly left his throat when the thunder roared, and 
something seared the wolf’s side like a hot iron. The 
cubs vanished like the smoke from the old gun. Then 
the Indian came swiftly back on the trail, peering about 
with hawk eyes to see the effect of his shot. 
“ By cosh! miss um dat time. Mus’ be powder no 
good.” Then, as he read the plain record in the snow, 
“ One, — by cosh! two hwulf, lil fool hwulf, follow my 
footin’. Mus’ be more, come soon pretty quick now; 
else he don’ howl dat way. Guess mebbe ol’ Injun 
better stay in house nights.” And he trailed warily 
back to hide himself behind a rock and watch till dark 
in front of his little commoosie. 
Old Tomah’s sleep was sound as usual that night; so 
he could not see the five shadows that stole out of the 
woods, nor hear the light footfalls that circled his camp, 
nor feel the breath, soft as an eddy of wind in a spruce 
top, that whiffed at the crack under his door and drifted 
