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 away
again. Next morning he saw the tracks and understood them; and as he
trailed away through the still woods he was wondering, in his silent
Indian way, why an old wolf should always bring Malsunsis, the cub, for
a good look and a sniff at anything that he is to avoid ever after.
When all else fails follow the caribou,--that is the law which governs
the wolf in the hungry days; but before they crossed the mountains and
followed the long valleys to the far southern ranges the wolves went
back to the hills, where the trail began, for a more exciting and
dangerous kind of hunting.
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