Das what Malsunsis say now wid hees tail and eyes; only way he can talk
um, little brother. No, no,"--for Noel's bow was still strongly
bent,--"you must not shoot. Malsunsis think we friends." And trusting
her own brave little heart she stepped in front of the deadly arrow and
walked straight to the big wolf, which moved aside timidly and sat down
again at a distance, with the friendly expression of a lost collie in
eyes and ears and wagging tail tip.
Cheerfully enough Noel slacked his long bow, for the wonder of the woods
was strong upon him, and the hunting-spirit, which leads one forth to
frighten and kill and to break the blessed peace, had vanished in the
better sense of comradeship which steals over one when he watches the
Wood Folk alone and friendly in the midst of the solitudes. As they went
on their way again the big wolf trotted after them, keeping close to
their trail but never crossing it, and occasionally ranging up
alongside, as if to keep them in the right way. Where the woods were
thickest Noel, with no trail to guide him, swung uncertainly to left and
right, peering through the trees for some landmark on the distant hills.
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