One spring and a snap, and
the ramping, masterful stag would have been helpless as a rabbit, his
tendons cut cleanly at the hock; another snap and he must come down,
spite of his great power, and be food for the growing cubs that sat on
their tails watching him, unterrified now by his fierce challenge. But
Megaleep's time had not yet come; besides, he was too tough. So the
wolves studied him awhile, amused perhaps at the rough play; then, as if
at a silent command, they vanished like shadows into the nearest cover,
leaving the big stag in his rage to think himself master of all the
world.
Sometimes as the old he-wolf ranged alone, a silent, powerful,
noble-looking brute, he would meet the caribou, and there would be a
fascinating bit of animal play. He rarely turned aside, knowing his own
power, and the cows and fawns after one look would bound aside and rack
away at a marvelous pace over the barrens. In a moment or two, finding
that they were not molested, they would turn and watch the wolf
curiously till he disappeared, trying perhaps to puzzle it out why the
ferocious enemy of the deep snows and the bitter cold should now be
harmless as the passing birds.
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