IOO 
Northern Trails. Book I 
that they were not forgotten. And when they leaped 
up, as at an electric shock, and raced for the cry, there 
were the cubs and the mother wolf, their hunger already 
satisfied, and there in the snow a young bull caribou to 
save them. 
So the long, hard winter passed away, and spring 
came again with its abundance. Grouse drummed a 
welcome in the woods; the honk of wild geese filled 
the air with a joyous clangor, and in every open pool 
the ducks were quacking. No need now to cling like 
shadows to the herds of caribou, and no further need 
for the pack to hold together. The ties that held them 
melted like snows in the sunny hollows. First the old 
wolves, then the cubs, one by one drifted away whither 
the game or their new mates were calling them. When 
the summer came there was another den on the high 
hill overlooking the harbor, where the little brown cubs 
could look down with wonder at the shining sea and 
the slow fishing-boats and the children playing on the 
shore; but the wolves whose trail began there were far 
away over the mountains, following their own ways, 
waiting for the crisp hunting cry that should bring 
them again together. 
