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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:55:33 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:55:33 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19387-h.zip b/19387-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1cc6c0e --- /dev/null +++ b/19387-h.zip diff --git a/19387-h/19387-h.htm b/19387-h/19387-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5daead4 --- /dev/null +++ b/19387-h/19387-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4075 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Outcasts, by W. A. Fraser + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + img.plain { /* image with no border or padding, see float */ + border: none; padding: 0; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; right: 2%; + font-size: 75%; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0em; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + color: silver; background-color: inherit; + font-variant: normal; + } /* page numbers */ + .pagenum a {text-decoration: none; color: silver; background-color: inherit;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + .toc a {text-decoration: none;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Outcasts, by W. A. Fraser + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Outcasts + +Author: W. A. Fraser + +Illustrator: Arthur Heming + +Release Date: September 26, 2006 [EBook #19387] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTCASTS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzan Flanagan and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1>THE OUTCASTS</h1> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><a name="Title" id="Title"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<a href="images/ill012.jpg" name="SHAG_CARRIED" id="SHAG_CARRIED"> +<img src="images/ill012tn.jpg" width="150" height="223" class="plain" alt="SHAG CARRIED THE DOG-WOLF ON HIS BACK." title="SHAG CARRIED THE DOG-WOLF ON HIS BACK." /> +</a> +<span class="caption">"SHAG CARRIED THE DOG-WOLF ON HIS BACK."</span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE</h2> +<h1>OUTCASTS</h1> + +<p><br /><br /></p> + +<h2>BY W. A. FRASER</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Illustrated by</span> ARTHUR HEMING</h3> + +<p><br /><br /></p> +<p><br /><br /></p> +<p><br /><br /></p> + +<h2>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h2> +<h3>NEW YORK – – – – – MDCCCCI</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4><i>Copyright, 1901, by</i></h4> +<h4><span class="smcap">Charles Scribner's Sons</span></h4> + +<h5>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</h5> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" class="toc" summary=""> + +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Illustrations">Illustrations</a></td><td> </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_v">v</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Chapter_One">Chapter One</a></td><td> </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Chapter_Two">Chapter Two</a></td><td> </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Chapter_Three">Chapter Three</a></td><td> </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Chapter_Four">Chapter Four</a></td><td> </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Chapter_Five">Chapter Five</a></td><td> </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Chapter_Six">Chapter Six</a></td><td> </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v" href="#Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Illustrations" id="Illustrations"></a>Illustrations</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The full-page subjects from drawings by Arthur<br /> +Heming. The head- and tail-pieces from<br /> +drawings by J. S. Gordon</i></p> +<p><br /><br /></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" class="toc" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='right'>FACING</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#SHAG_CARRIED">Shag carried the Dog-wolf on his back</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Title">Title</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#LYING">"Lying on my back as though I were dead, I</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#LYING"> held my tail straight up"</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#I_AM_NO">"I am no Wolf, Shag; I am A'tim, which</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#I_AM_NO"> meaneth a Dog in the talk of the Crees"</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ONE_AFTER">One after another they hurtled into the</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#I_AM_NO"> slaughter-pen of the Blood Indians' corral</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MUSKWA">Muskwa had A'tim in his long-clawed grasp</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#STEADY">"Steady, Dog-Wolf, steady," admonished</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#STEADY"> Shag, "this is a friend of mine"</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#OH_DONT_MENTION">"Oh, don't mention it!" exclaimed the Wolf;</a></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#OH_DONT_MENTION"> "no doubt we shall find something for</a></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#OH_DONT_MENTION"> dinner, presently"</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THOU_ART">"Thou art a traitor, and a great liar," said</a></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THOU_ART"> the Bull</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>THE OUTCASTS</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><a name="Chapter_One" id="Chapter_One"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill021.jpg" width="400" height="174" alt="THE OUTCASTS CHAPTER ONE" title="THE OUTCASTS CHAPTER ONE" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1" href="#Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<p>A'tim the Outcast was half Wolf, +half Huskie Dog. That meant +ferocity and bloodthirst on the +one side, and knowledge of Man's ways +on the other. Also, that he was an +Outcast; for neither side of the house of +his ancestry would have aught of him.</p> + +<p>A'tim was bred in the far Northland, +where the Cree Indians trail the white +snow-waste with Train Dogs; and one +time A'tim had pressed an unwilling +shoulder to a dog-collar. Now he was +an outcast vagabond on the southern +prairie, close to the Montana border-land.</p> + +<p>It was September; and all day A'tim +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2" href="#Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +had skulked in the willow cover of Belly +River flat-lands, close to the lodges of +the Blood Indians.</p> + +<p>Nothing to eat had come the way of +the Dog-Wolf; only a little knowledge +of something that was to happen, for he +had heard things,—the voices of the +Indians sitting in council had slipped +gently down the wind to his sharp Wolf +ears.</p> + +<p>As he crawled up the river bank close +to Belly Buttes and looked across the +plain, he could see the pink flush of +eventide, like a fairy veil, draping the +cold blue mountains—the Rockies.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, warm Brother," he +said, blinking at the setting sun; "I +wonder if you are going to sleep with +an empty stomach, as must A'tim."</p> + +<p>The soft-edged shafts of gold-yellow +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3" href="#Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +quivered tremblingly behind the blue-gray +mountains, as though Sol were +laughing at the address of the Outcast. +The Dog-Wolf looked furtively over +his shoulder at the smoke-wreathed +cones of the Blood tepees. The odor +of many flesh-pots tickled his nostrils +until they quivered in longing desire. +Buh-h-h! but he was hungry! All his +life he had been hungry; only at long +intervals had a gorge of much eating +fallen to his lot.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, warm Brother," he +said again, turning stubbornly from the +scent of flesh, and eying the crimson +flush where the sun had set; "one more +round of your trail and I shall sleep with +a full stomach, for to-morrow the Bloods +make a big Kill—the Run of many +Buffalo."</p> + +<p>A'tim, sitting on his haunches, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4" href="#Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +holding his nose high in air until his +throat pipe drew straight and taut, sang: +"O-o-o-o-o-h! for the blood drinking! +W-a-u-g-ha! the sweet new meat—hot +to the mouth!"</p> + +<p>The Indian Dogs caught up the cry +of A'tim as it floated over the Belly +River and voiced it from a thousand +throats.</p> + +<p>"The Blackfeet!" screamed Eagle +Shoe, rushing from his tepee. "It's +only a hungry Wolf," he grunted, as he +sat in the council again; "let us talk of +the Buffalo Run."</p> + +<p>That was what the Dog-Wolf had +heard lying in the tangle of gray willow, +close to the tepee of Eagle Shoe, the +Blood Indian; and he would sleep +peacefully, his hunger stayed by the +morrow's prospect. As he sat yawning +toward the rose sky in the West, a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5" href="#Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +huge, dark form came majestically from +a cleft in the buttes, and stood outlined, +a towering black mass. A'tim +flattened to earth as though he had been +shot, looking not more than a tuft of +withered bunch-grass. Then he arose +as suddenly, chuckled to himself, and +growled nervously: "Oh! but I got a +start—it's only old Shag, the Outcast +Bull. Ha, ha! A'tim to fear a Buffalo! +Good-evening, Brother," he exclaimed; +"you quite frightened me—I thought it +was that debased Long Knife, Camous."</p> + +<p>"Thought me Camous!" bellowed +the Bull, snorting indignantly; "he's +but a slayer and a thief. All the Paleface +Long Knives are that; killing, killing—stealing, +stealing. Why, even +among his own kind he is called 'Camous'; +and you, who were bred in the +Man camps, know what that means."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6" href="#Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course, of course—ha! most +surely it means 'a stealer of things.' +But I meant not to liken you to him, +Brother Shag—it was only my fright; +for even in my dreams I am always seeing +the terrible Camous. I have cause +to remember him, Shag—it was this +way. Did I ever tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Never," answered Shag, heavily.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<a href="images/ill027.jpg" name="LYING" id="LYING"> +<img src="images/ill027tn.jpg" width="150" height="225" class="plain" alt="LYING ON MY BACK AS THOUGH I WERE DEAD, I HELD MY TAIL +STRAIGHT UP." title="LYING ON MY BACK AS THOUGH I WERE DEAD, I HELD MY TAIL +STRAIGHT UP." /> +</a> +<span class="caption">"LYING ON MY BACK AS THOUGH I WERE DEAD, I HELD MY TAIL +STRAIGHT UP."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Well, it was this way: Once upon +a time, in the low hills they call Cypress, +I was stalking a herd of antelope. To +tell you the truth, I had been at it for +two days. Waugh! but they were wary. +At last I worked within fair eyesight of +them, and knowing the stupid desire +they have to look close at anything that +may be strange to them, I took to myself +a clever plan. Lying on my back +as though I were dead, I held my tail +straight up, and let the wind blow it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7" href="#Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +back and forth. The big-eyed Eaters-of-Grass +asked one another: 'What is +this new thing? Is it a plant or an animal?' +That is the way they talked, I +am sure, for they are like wolf-pups, +quite silly. Well, they came closer and +closer and closer. E-u-h-h, e-u-h-h! +but my mouth watered with the thought +of their sweet meat as I lay as one dead. +Now, they hadn't the knowledge to +work up wind to me, but came straight +for the thing they saw that moved. +Would you believe it, just as I was +measuring from the corner of my eye +the time for a strong rush, who should +creep over a hill but Camous! In fright +I sprang to my feet, and away went the +Goat-faced small-prongs. Then the +deviltry of the many-breathed Fire-stick +this Camous carries came down upon +me as I ran faster than I'd ever gone +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8" href="#Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +before. 'Click, snap! click, snap!' +the quick-breathing Fire-stick coughed; +and though I rocked, and jumped sideways +and twisted, before I could get +away I had one of the breath-stings in +my shoulder. E-u-h-h! but I go lame +from it still."</p> + +<p>Shag slipped a cud of sweet grass up +his throat with a gurgling cough and +chewed it reflectively, for he was of a +slow turn of thought, not at all like the +nimble-brained Dog-Wolf. Then he +swallowed the cud, blew from his nostrils +the sand that had come into them +crossing the scant-garbed hills of Belly +Buttes, and said ponderously: "Yes, I +know the many-breathed Fire-stick; +that's what makes the Palefaces so terrible. +The plain simply reeks with the +dead bodies of my people whom they +have slain." +</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9" href="#Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> +<p>"And the bodies all poisoned, too; +whur-r, whur-r! All turned into death +meat for the Flesh-feeders, Dog or +Wolf," snarled A'tim. "Killed for the +hide—think of that, Shag!—or just the +tongue taken. If we make a kill it is +for the eating—to still the gnawing +pain that comes to us, and we waste +nothing, leave nothing."</p> + +<p>"Most assuredly," replied the Bull, +"thou leavest nothing but the bones."</p> + +<p>"Nothing but the bones," concurred +A'tim. "And as I was saying, these +Long Knives put the Flour of Death in +the dead Buffalo, and my Wolf Brethren, +when they eat, being forced to of +their hunger, die like flies at Cold +Time."</p> + +<p>"And a good thing, too—I mean—" +and Shag coughed apologetically; +"I mean, as a Calf I received cause to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10" href="#Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +remember your Wolf Brothers, A'tim; +there's a hollow in my thigh you could +bury your paw in, where one of your +long-fanged Pack sought to hamstring +me. You, A'tim, who are half Wolf, +know how it comes that where one of +your kind puts his teeth, the flesh, +sooner or later, melts away, and leaves +but a hole—how is it, A'tim?"</p> + +<p>"Foul teeth," growled the Dog-Wolf. +"They're a mean lot, are the +Gray Runners; even I, who am half of +their kind, bear them no love—have +they not outcasted me because of my +Dog blood? I am no Wolf, Shag; I +am A'tim, which meaneth 'a Dog,' in +the talk of the Crees."</p> + +<p>"Even so, Brother," said Shag, "how +comes it that thou art a half-breed Wolf +at all?"</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<a href="images/ill033.jpg" name="I_AM_NO" id="I_AM_NO"> +<img src="images/ill033tn.jpg" width="150" height="225" class="plain" alt=""I AM NO WOLF, SHAG; I AM A'TIM, WHICH MEANETH A DOG IN +THE TALK OF THE CREES." title=""I AM NO WOLF, SHAG; I AM A'TIM, WHICH MEANETH A DOG IN +THE TALK OF THE CREES." /> +</a> +<span class="caption">"I AM NO WOLF, SHAG; I AM A'TIM, WHICH MEANETH A DOG IN +THE TALK OF THE CREES."</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11" href="#Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> +<p>"That is also of Man's evil ways, +Brother Bull—thinking to change everything +that was as it should be before +he came. This false mating is of his +thought; to get the strength of the +Wolf, and the long-fasting of the Wolf, +and the toughness of the Wolf, into the +kind of his Train-Dogs. And because +of all this, I, who am a Dog, am outcasted."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll soon all be gone," +sighed the Bull, plaintively; "when I +was a Smooth Horn, and in the full +glory of my strength—"</p> + +<p>"Thou must have been of a great +strength, Shag, for thou art the biggest +Bull from Belly Buttes to Old Man +River—Waugh! Waugh! that I can +swear to."</p> + +<p>"In those days," continued Shag, +taking a swinging lick at his scraggy +hide with his rough tongue, "in those +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12" href="#Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +days, when I was a Smooth Horn, I led +a Herd that caused the sweet-grass plain +to tremble like water when we galloped +over it. We were as locusts—that +many; and when crossing a coulee I've +turned with pride on the opposite bank—I +always went first—and, looking +back, saw the whole hollow just a waving +mass of life. Such life, too, Lone +Dog; silk-coated Cows with Calf at +knee; and Bulls there were full many—because +I tolerated them, of course—and +all strong and fat, and troubled +by nothing but, perchance, in the Cold +Time a few days of the White Storm +which covered our food. But that did +not matter much; we just drifted head +on to the harsh-edged blizzard, and lived +on the thick fat of our kidneys."</p> + +<p>"But the Redmen—the hairless-faced +ones," interrupted Dog-Wolf; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13" href="#Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +"they killed many a Buffalo in the old +days."</p> + +<p>"We could spare them," replied +Shag; "their Deathshafts of wood slew +but a few. Like yourself, A'tim, they +killed only when they were hungry. +It's the many-breathed Fire-stick of the +Paleface that has destroyed us, A'tim; +but like you, Brother, I, who am but an +Outcast because of my great age, and because +my horns have become stubs, care +not overmuch. Why should I lament +over my own people who have driven me +forth—made of me an Outcast?"</p> + +<p>"There is to be a big Run to-morrow—a +mighty Kill," said A'tim, +growing tired of the old Bull's reminiscent +wail.</p> + +<p>"Where?" queried the other.</p> + +<p>"At Stone Hill Corral. Eagle Shoe +says they will kill five hundred head."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14" href="#Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know," sighed Shag—"at the +Pound; I know that death-trap. Half +a Herd I lost there once through the +conceit of a young Bull hardly out of +the Spike Horn age. Well I know +the Pound—even the old Indian of +deep cunning who made it, Chief +Poundmaker—that's how he came by +his name, A'tim. But, as I was saying, +when I tried to turn the Herd, knowing +what was meant, this Calf Bull led a +part of them straight into the very trap. +Served him right, too; but the Cows! +Ah, me! My poor people! Slaughtered, +every one of them; and so it will +be again to-morrow—eh, A'tim? It's +the big Herd down in the good feeding +they're after, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered A'tim; "to-morrow +the whole Blood tribe, and Camous +the Paleface, who is but a squaw man, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15" href="#Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +living in their lodges, will make the +Run."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could stampede the Buffalo +to save them," sighed Shag; "but my +sides are sore from the insulting prods +of the Spike Horns. Not a Bull in +the whole Herd, from Smooth Horns, +who are wise, down to Spike Horns, +who are fools because of their youth, +but thinks it fair sport to drive at me if +I go near. Surely I am an Outcast—which +seems to me a strange thing. +When we come to the knowledge age, +having gained wisdom, we are driven +forth."</p> + +<p>"No; you'd only get into trouble," +declared A'tim decisively. "We, who +are Brothers because of our condition, +will watch this Run from afar. To-morrow, +for once in my life, I shall have +a full stomach."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16" href="#Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> +<p>"I am going back to the Buttes to +sleep," declared Shag.</p> + +<p>"I will go also," said A'tim; "while +you rest, I, who sleep with one eye +open, after the manner of my Wolf +Brothers, will watch."</p> + +<p>In a little valley driven into the +Buttes' side, where the grass grew long +because of deep snow in winter time, +the big Buffalo stopped, prospected the +ground with his nose, flipped a sharp +stone from the couch with nimble lip, +and knelt down gingerly, for rheumatism +had crept into his old bones; then +with a tired grunt of relaxation he rolled +on his side, and blew a great breath of +sweet content through his nostrils.</p> + +<p>"A good bed," quoth A'tim. "I +will share it with you, Brother; close +against your stomach for warmth."</p> + +<p>He took the three turns that had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17" href="#Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +come to him of his Dog heritage, and +curled up contentedly against the great +paunch of the scarred Bull.</p> + +<p>"I can't sleep for thinking of the +big Kill," murmured Shag. "My poor +Brothers and Sisters, also some of my +own children, are in that Herd, though +they, too, have disowned and driven me +forth."</p> + +<p>"There will be more sweet grass for +your feeding when they are gone, Shag," +declared Dog-Wolf.</p> + +<p>"Ah, there's plenty of eating, such +as it is; though the grass on the prairie +looks short and dry and harsh, yet it is +sweet in the cud. To you, who are but +a Dog-Wolf, the eating comes first in +your thought, but with us it is the dread +of hunters, who keep us ever on the +move."</p> + +<p>"I know of a land where it is not +this way," asserted A'tim, after a pause; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18" href="#Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +"a beautiful land, with pea-vine knee-deep, +and grass the Men call blue-joint, +that fair tops my back when I walk +through it. As for drink! why, one +day in a single tramp I crossed sixteen +streams of beautiful running water."</p> + +<p>"Are you dreaming, A'tim?" asked +Shag, touching the Dog-Wolf's back +with the battered point of his stub-horn.</p> + +<p>"No, Bull; and there are few hunters +in that land, and few of your kind; and +shelter of forest against the White Storm; +and buttes and coulees everywhere."</p> + +<p>"An ideal Range," muttered the +Bull; "is it far?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps half a moon—perhaps a +whole moon from here to there, just as +one's feet stand the trail."</p> + +<p>"You make me long for that great +feeding," sighed Shag enviously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you'd be better in the Northland, +Shag," said the Dog-Wolf, sleepily +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19" href="#Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +—"better +there. Here you are an +Outcast, even as I am."</p> + +<p>"Yes, after the big Kill to-morrow," +sighed the Bull mournfully, "I shall +want to trail somewhere. Across Kootenay +River is good feeding-ground, but +there the accursed Long Knives are filled +with the very devil of destruction, and +kill even such as I am, though my hide +is not worth the lifting. I, who am +an Outcast, and have lost all pride, know +this—I am worthless."</p> + +<p>The bubbling monotone of the old +Bull had put A'tim to sleep. He was +giving vent to gasping snores and plaintive +whimpers, and his legs were twitching +spasmodically; he was dreaming of +the chase. Shag turned his massive +head and watched the nervous Dog-Wolf +with heavy, tired eyes. "He is +chasing the reed-legged Antelope now; +or, perhaps, even in his sleep, Camous +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20" href="#Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +pursues him with the many-breathed +Fire-stick. Well, well, by my hump, +but we all have our troubles; even this +Dog-Wolf, who is not half my age, has +lived into the hard winter of life."</p> + +<p>Then Shag rested his black-whiskered +chin on the soft turf, his tired eyelids, +mange-shaved, drooped over the age-blurred +eyes, and these two Outcasts, so +strangely mated, driven together by adversity, +slept in the coulee of Belly +Buttes.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/ill044.jpg" width="250" height="150" alt="ANTELOPE JUMPING OVER LOG" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><a name="Chapter_Two" id="Chapter_Two"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill045.jpg" width="400" height="176" alt="CHAPTER TWO" title="CHAPTER TWO" /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21" href="#Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> +<p>A cold, weakling gray-light was +touching with ghastly fresco +the Belly Buttes when A'tim +stretched out his paw and scratched impatiently +at Shag's leather side. The +Bull came back slowly out of his heavy +sleep.</p> + +<p>"Gently, Wolf Brother," he cried +petulantly; "your claws are wondrous +strong, and my side has many sore spots—love +scars from my Brother Bulls."</p> + +<p>"You'll have worse than Bull scars +if you don't wake up," answered A'tim; +"can't you hear something?"</p> + +<p>Shag tipped his massive head sideways +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22" href="#Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +with drowsy inquiry, the heavy lids +opening in unwilling laziness. A muffled, +palpitating beat was in the sulky +morning air; it was like the monotonous +thump of a war drum over on the Reserve.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" queried the Bull, raising +his head with full-aged dignity.</p> + +<p>"Eagle Shoe's pinto is pounding the +trail; the Run is on," answered A'tim.</p> + +<p>Shag heaved his huge body to his +knees wearily, struggled to his feet with +stiff-limbed action, and shook his gaunt +sides.</p> + +<p>"You needn't do that," sneered +A'tim; "not much grass sticks to your +coat now."</p> + +<p>"No, it's only force of habit," grunted +Shag. "And to think of the time when +my beautiful hair was the envy of the +whole range; for I was a Silk-Coat, you +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23" href="#Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +know—a rare thing in Bulls, to be sure. +But I'm not that now; when I look in +the lake waters and see only this miserable +ruff about my neck, and scant tuft +on my tail, I feel sad—feel ashamed. +The tongue of the lake tells me all that, +Brother, so say no more about it."</p> + +<p>"Wait you here, Shag," commanded +A'tim; "I will go up on a Butte and +see the method of these hunters; my +eyes are younger than yours, Herd +Leader."</p> + +<p>When the Dog-Wolf returned he +said: "Eagle Shoe is riding far to the +South; let us follow in the river flat and +see this Run, for it will be a mighty +Kill. O-o-o-h! but I am empty—famished!"</p> + +<p>"Always of blood," muttered the Bull +to himself—"always of blood and meat +eating; Wolf and Dog; Dog-Wolf and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24" href="#Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +Man—always full of the blood thought +and the desire for a Kill."</p> + +<p>They could hear the thud of pony +hoofs on the dry prairie's hollow drum +as they traveled, winding in and out +the tangle of willow bushes that followed +the river. Then the hoof beats +died away, and A'tim said: "Now he +has circled to the West—that means +something; let us go up and see."</p> + +<p>They stole up the old river bank to +the brow of the uplands. A mile off +they could see Eagle Shoe standing beside +his cayuse. As they watched, the +Blood Indian stooped, caught up a handful +of black earth-dust and threw it high +in air. That was sign talk, and told +his comrades who were hiding on the +prairie that he saw many Buffalo—Buffalo +many as the grains of sand cast +to the wind.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25" href="#Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then he trailed his blanket behind +him as he walked beside his ewe-necked +pinto, and two Indians stole stealthily +from their prairie cover like Coyotes, +and followed Eagle Shoe.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" muttered Shag, as he and +A'tim went forward slowly, "I know. +This Indian has the cunning of a whole +Wolf-Pack; is that not so, Brother? +King Animals!" he exclaimed, in a great +voice like the low of the wind coming +through a mountain gorge; "is that +not the Herd yonder, clear-eyed Dog-Wolf?"</p> + +<p>"By the chance of meat, it is—a +mighty Herd, Shag; such a Herd as the +Caribou make in the Northland when +they mate."</p> + +<p>"Now the Buffalo see Eagle Shoe," +continued Shag; "but they have no wisdom; +they but see some one thing that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26" href="#Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +has life. Perhaps they will even say: +'It is only old Shag, the Outcast; let us +feed in peace.' Their eyes are the eyes +of Calves, and their noses tell them nothing, +for the hunt Man is down Wind, +is he not, A'tim?"</p> + +<p>"Surely, Brother; even a <i>moneas</i>, a +green hunter of a Paleface, would know +better than to send the flavor of his +presence on the Wind's back."</p> + +<p>"Yes, even so," continued Shag. "See +how gently he moves toward them. Danger! +One Bull's head is up; he has discovered +that it is not a Buffalo; now +he has whispered to the others, for they +are moving slowly. Thou hast spoken +truth, A'tim—a strange thing for a Dog-Wolf, +too," he muttered to himself—"it +<i>will</i> be a mighty Kill. How slowly +the Herd moves; they are not afraid of +the one animal, whatever it is—one, did +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27" href="#Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +I say, A'tim? Look you, Brother, for +you have the Wolf-eyes: are there not +three now—three Kill drivers?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, three Indians," answered the +Dog-Wolf. "The same old Hunt. I've +watched it many a time from behind +the runners; I know every trick of these +slayers. Now the Run surely begins; +let us close up, Shag, for the hunters will +have no eyes for such as us; their hearts +are full of the killing of many Buffalo. +Also, there will be much meat warm +to a cold stomach to-night;" and he +licked his chops greedily.</p> + +<p>"I don't like it," muttered Shag; +"the Palefaces, with their many-breathed +Fire-sticks, have killed my people, and +have driven them up from the South, +and now they are gathered together in +a few mighty Herds such as this. The +Redmen, who have not these Fire-sticks, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28" href="#Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +but have the cunning of Wolves, see all +this, and say they too must slay a whole +Herd, where before they killed but two +or three. We'll soon be all gone—we, +who are the meat food of these Redmen, +we'll soon be all gone, and then +what will they do, A'tim? Will they +kill each other, as your people do when +the famine gets into their hearts? Or +will they just lie down and die, as my +people do when the White Storm blots +out all the grass food?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, Great Bull," answered +A'tim. "To-night I shall be +full of much meat, perhaps even to-morrow; +after that I know not what +may come with the warm trail of the +sun."</p> + +<p>The Outcasts saw the two Indians +ride into the eye of the Wind that blew +up from the South across the Herd. As +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29" href="#Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +a sudden squall ripples a smooth lake, +so the scent of the Redmen carried by +the prairie breeze stirred the sea of +brown-backed Buffalo.</p> + +<p>"Now they will stampede," quoth +Shag, eying this manœuver with heavy +intentness.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered A'tim, "and Eagle +Shoe will lead your brethren to their +destruction. We will wait here till they +have passed, then we will follow."</p> + +<p>"Yonder is one of the bush wings +leading to the slaughter-pen, the Stone +Hill Corral," cried Shag; "and on the +far side will be another, though we can't +see it yet."</p> + +<p>"Yes," concurred A'tim, "I see it; +they'll come closer and closer together, +these two run of bushes, and at the far +end there will be but a narrow trail like +a coulee, and after that they drop into +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30" href="#Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +Stone Hill Pit—the Buffalo Pound. +I saw the Indians building these trail-slides +last night. It will be a great Run—a +mighty Kill!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," affirmed Shag, "we both know +of this thing—we who are of no account; +it is only the Outcasts who have +much wisdom, seemingly. Behind the +bushes hide the Indians, and no Buffalo +will break through because of them. +On, on they'll gallop to the death-pit, +the Pound. Let us move up closer; +my old blood tingles with it, for I've +been in many a Run."</p> + +<p>A'tim grinned like a Hyena. Already +in his Wolf nostrils was the visionary +scent of blood, and much killing. That +night he would dip his lean jaws in the +Kill of the Redmen.</p> + +<p>Eagle Shoe and the two Indians who +had come up out of the level plain like +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31" href="#Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +evil spirits were leading and driving their +prey into the wide jaws of the converging +stockade. The Buffalo were pressing +on to destruction with increased +pace, following with blind stupidity the +horseman who cantered in front of them. +From a lazy stroll they had quickened +to a fast walk; a shuffling trot had given +place to an impatient lope. Calves were +being hustled to the center of the moving +Herd by loving mothers. Head +down, and wisp-tail straight out, the +brown bodies shifted from lope to mad +gallop. The Bulls snorted restlessly and +called hoarse-voiced to their consorts: +"Speed fast, for something evil follows."</p> + +<p>The beaten earth groaned in hollow +misery; the thrusting weight of half a +thousand head made its breast ache; its +plaintive protest grew into an angry roar +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32" href="#Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +like incessant thunder; the dust, sharp-hoof-pounded, +rose like a hot breath, +and hung foglike over the troubled sea +of rocking bodies.</p> + +<p>Behind, the two horsemen, wide apart +like fan points, galloped with hard-set +faces. Eagerly the ponies, bred to the +Hunt, stretched their limbs of steel-like +toughness, and raced for the brown +cloud that fled as a broken regiment.</p> + +<p>Surely it was wondrous sport, as A'tim +thought; surely it was unholy slaughter, +as the Outcast Bull muttered.</p> + +<p>Now the galloping brutes were well +between the brush walls of the ever-narrowing +stockade. A Calf, speed-strangled, +slipped from the dust cloud +and wandered aimlessly toward the +galloping horsemen; Grasshead's pony +swerved as the Calf sprawled in his path.</p> + +<p>On the Buffalo galloped; faster and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33" href="#Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +faster rode Eagle Shoe. His cayuse, +the fleetest Buffalo horse of all the Blood +tribe, galloped with the full fear in his +heart of the danger that was behind. +Low over his neck crouched Eagle +Shoe; one false step—a yawning badger +hole, a swerve at a white rock, a falter, +and crunching hoofs would grind the +Redskin to pulp.</p> + +<p>Wedge-shaped the Herd raced for +the leading horseman; hindermost labored +the fatted bulls, but in front thundered +the leader.</p> + +<p>With hawk eye, Eagle Shoe swept the +stockade wall for the opening through +which he was to slip and let the Herd +gallop on to their destruction. Hi, yi! +there it was. Sharp to the left, swinging +his body far out on the side to steady +the careening cayuse, he turned. As he +shot through the opening two Indians +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34" href="#Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +rose up, and their guns belched a red +repulse in the faces of the Buffalo.</p> + +<p>On swept the Herd—on raced the +pursuing Redskins, now joined by Eagle +Shoe. An Indian rose like a specter +behind the bush wall, and twanged a +hoarse-singing arrow into the quivering +flank of the Herd that was as one Buffalo. +His Hunt-Cry of joy, fierce-voiced, +was like the wail of an infant—the +roar of the troubled earth hushed it +to nothing.</p> + +<p>Fear rode on the backs of the striding +beasts, and they were afraid; and in +their hearts was only gallop, gallop, gallop; +there was no thought, nothing but +frenzy; no thought of breaking through +the wing sides, flimsy as a deep shadow, +for behind twig-laced walls were strange +demons possessed of the Man-Call, the +Kill-Cry. On, on, on! only in front +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35" href="#Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +was any opening; there the prairie lay +still and smiling. Wedge-like behind +their Bull Leader they thundered. To +him the open prairie in front beckoned +and smiled a lie of safe passage; the +Pound, the death-pit, dug on its rounded +breast, lay hushed in silent ambush, and +the Bull Leader saw only a narrow gate +at the far end of the fast-closing wings. +Soon he would lead all this mighty +Herd that had grown into his charge +past the walls that were alive with evil +spirits, and out to the prairie beyond.</p> + +<p>What could rise up in front and stay +that mad rush of half a thousand Buffalo? +Nothing—nothing! and the +Pound still lay hushed—waiting.</p> + +<p>Behind the Bull, with implicit faith, +pressed the Herd. Only a short distance +reached the dreaded yellow-leafed +walls that hid the Man enemy. In six +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36" href="#Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +breaths he would have passed the narrow +mouth, and all his heart's pride would +stream out from that death gauntlet to +the broad Range that called to him.</p> + +<p>Even now he drew a sigh of relief; +one more jump—oh, spirit of sacred +Buffalo! that yawning abyss! the frown +of the Pound. He braced his giant +forelegs in the graveled earth on its +very brink. Too late! Behind, two +hundred tons of impetuous fright crashed +against his guarding frame; the treacherous +sod crumbled; down, down, thirty +feet sheer, over the cliff he shot: two, +six, a dozen, fifty! beyond all count, +one after another, bellowing Cow and +screaming Calf, they hurtled into the +slaughter-pen of the Blood Indians' +corral.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<a href="images/ill061.jpg" name="ONE_AFTER" id="ONE_AFTER"> +<img src="images/ill061tn.jpg" width="150" height="225" class="plain" alt="ONE AFTER ANOTHER THEY HURTLED INTO THE SLAUGHTER-PEN +OF THE BLOOD INDIANS' CORRAL." title="ONE AFTER ANOTHER THEY HURTLED INTO THE SLAUGHTER-PEN +OF THE BLOOD INDIANS' CORRAL." /> +</a> +<span class="caption">ONE AFTER ANOTHER THEY HURTLED INTO THE SLAUGHTER-PEN +OF THE BLOOD INDIANS' CORRAL.</span> +</div> + +<p>Inferno upon earth was born in an +instant; up from the sun smile of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37" href="#Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +prairie rose a shadow of fiends. The +walls of the pit, large as the Coliseum, +were lined with Redskins of the murder +caste. Bow-strings twanged; dag-spears, +long-handled, were driven with +vengeful swish into the bellowing mob +of crazed Buffalo. A sulphurous cloud +of gun smoke settled over the pit. Of +a verity it was a carnival of demons. +Surely it was a mighty Kill! Surely it +was a blood fresco on the beautiful +earth.</p> + +<p>Some strong animals, not shattered in +their fall, rushed about the pit in erratic +frenzy, like victims in a Roman arena. +The mocking walls rose on every side, +grim, unsurmountable, and thrust the +captives back into the shambles; jagged +flint arrow-heads stung their hearts like +angry serpents. Oh, blessed quick death! +better than the smother and trample +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38" href="#Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +that beat out the lives of others, inch by +inch. The gun fire belched hot in their +faces; the bellowing of Bulls almost +hushed the Hunt-Cry of the Redman.</p> + +<p>For an hour the full carnage lived; +the joy of blood-shedding was over the +Indians; gray-aged warriors and lean-chested +children, all drank of the glory +of slaughter. Skinning-knife in hand, +the Squaws waited for the tumult to +subside that they might complete the +tragedy.</p> + +<p>At last no Buffalo chased hopelessly +over the dead bodies of his fellows, seeking +a vain safety; all were stricken to +their death—not one had escaped. No +bellowing was heard now; nothing but +the victory clamor of the rabble and +the gasping choke of dying Buffalo. +Out on the prairie the silly Calf wandered +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39" href="#Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +like a lost babe—the only survivor +of a king-led Herd.</p> + +<p>Like butchers, the strong-backed +Squaws leaped into the arena, its stone +floor slippery with blood, and stripped +the bodies of their victims. The Indians, +their warrior pride holding them +aloof from this menial labor, sat and +gloried in the mighty Kill.</p> + +<p>Shag and the Dog-Wolf had heard +the din from afar. "They will not +poison the meat to-night," muttered +A'tim, "and when they have gorged +themselves to sleep, I also shall feast, +for it must have been a great Kill."</p> + +<p>"It's dreadful!" lamented Shag; +"it's dreadful! I can't eat—the grass +tastes of blood, for this Kill has been +of my kind. It is different with you, +A'tim. I will sleep here in this near-by +coulee, and when you have feasted, Dog +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40" href="#Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +Brother, come back to me, for I am +sad and my heart is heavy; come back, +A'tim, and sleep warm against my side."</p> + +<p>Far into the night, by the light of +dry willow fires, like dancing ghouls, +the Squaws cut and hacked and laid +bare the bones that had been joyous in +much life at sunrise.</p> + +<p>Over the camp-fires, for long hours, +the pots boiled and bubbled with the +cooking meat—the delicious Buffalo +flesh that was meat and bread to the +Indians; and beside the glowing embers +huge joints spitted on sharp sticks sizzled +and threw off a perfume that came +to the starved nostrils of A'tim, and almost +crazed him with eager hunger.</p> + +<p>Would the Indians never cease eating? +he wondered. Close-crept, he +watched Eagle Shoe take a piece of the +luscious "back fat"—ah, well A'tim +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41" href="#Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +knew the loin!—and devour it greedily. +How like vultures these feeders were, +A'tim thought. At least a dozen times +each Indian returned to the flesh-pots, +the Dog-Wolf felt sure. "They are +like Wolves," he snarled; "well I know +them. For days and days they will live +on nothing, even as a Wolf; then, when +the Kill is on, they will gorge until +they are stupid. E-u-h-ha! but when +they become stupid from this feeding +surely I will also feast; wait, hunger-pain, +wait just a little."</p> + +<p>A cold moon came up over the fog-lined +prairie and looked down wonderingly +at the fierce barbecue. Sometimes +the silent prairie, silent as the Catacombs, +would be startled by the exultant cry +of a blood-drunken feaster. It was a +fierce joy the Kill had brought to these +Pagans.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42" href="#Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> +<p>Half a thousand robes Eagle Shoe +had tallied. "Waugh! Ugh! Ugh!" +he had grunted in sheer joy when the +little willow wands which marked the +score had been counted before him. +Surely they would revel in things dear +to the heart of an Indian when the +robes were carted to the Hudson Bay +Store. The meat was feeling all right +in its way when the stomach was lean, +but at the Fort, at the time of giving up +the robes—Waugh! God of the fallen +Indians! how they would revel in the +fierce fire-water, the glorious fire-water! +Even the Squaws, useful at the skinning, +would also drink, and reel, and become +lower than the animals they had slain +to bring about all this saturnalia. Why +had his forefathers fought against the +Palefaces? Was not all this civilized +evil a good thing, after all?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43" href="#Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> +<p>A cloud drifted a frown over the face +of the cold moon, and A'tim skulked +closer and closer—almost to the very +edge of the slaughter-pit. The Indian +Pack-Dogs snarled at his presence, and +yapped crabbedly. Other gray shadows, +less venturesome than the Dog-Wolf, +flitted restlessly back and forth in the +dim mist of the silent plain.</p> + +<p>A'tim sneered to himself maliciously. +"To-day is the Kill of the Buffalo," +he muttered; "to-morrow you, my +Gray Brothers, will give up your lives +because of the Death Powder. There +will be meat enough for the poisoning; +feast to-night, for to-morrow you die, +and your pelts will go with those of +the Dead Grass-Eaters. If you had not +outcasted me, I, who know of this +thing, would save you; but to-morrow +I shall be far away and care not."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44" href="#Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> +<p>Would the Indians never gorge themselves +to sleep? Eagle Shoe's voice was +hushed; one by one the feasters stretched +themselves upon the silent grass, and +slumbered with a heaviness of full content. +When the last Squaw, weary of the +blood toil, curled beneath her blanket, +A'tim crept to the meat piles. All +the energy of his rested stomach urged +him to the feasting; there was no +stint.</p> + +<p>Surely no Swift-runner, Dog or Wolf, +ever had such a choosing. The Pack-Dogs +kept the Wolves at bay, but with +A'tim was the scent of their own kind, +the Dog scent. He was not an utter +stranger to them, only an Outcast; they +tolerated him as a beggar at the meat +store of which they had more than +enough.</p> + +<p>At last the hunger pain was all gone. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45" href="#Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +Once in his Train-Dog days he had +looted a cache of White Fish, and eaten +until he could eat no more; it was like +that now. Then, with a Dog thought +for the morrow, he stole four huge +pieces of choice meat, and cached +them in the little coulee where waited +Shag.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you've come back, Brother," +said the Bull, as A'tim crept complacently +to his side. "I was afraid something +might have happened to you, for +hunger often carries us into unknown +danger."</p> + +<p>"E-u-h-h! but it was a mighty Kill, +Shag. Such flesh I've never tasted—never—tasted—" +He was asleep.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what makes the moon +red," muttered Shag, drowsily, as he, +too, nodded off to sleep.</p> + +<p>Then again the two Outcasts, the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46" href="#Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +one for whom the blood horror had +colored the moon red, and the other +with a new joy of meat fullness, slumbered +together in the little coulee by +the Buffalo Pound.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/ill072.jpg" width="250" height="144" alt="BUFFALO WITH BLOOD DRIPPING FROM MOUTH" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><a name="Chapter_Three" id="Chapter_Three"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill073.jpg" width="400" height="189" alt="CHAPTER THREE" title="CHAPTER THREE" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47" href="#Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> +<p>Shag was the first to awaken; the +night's banquet caused the morning +to come slowly to A'tim.</p> + +<p>The pulling cut of Shag's heavy jaws +on the crisp grass awoke the Dog-Wolf. +He yawned heavily, and eyed +the old Bull with sleepy indifference. +Ghur-h-h-h! what a plaintive figure +the aged Buffalo was, to be sure.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Brother," whuffed +Shag, his mouth full of grass; "where +are you going?"</p> + +<p>"I <i>cached</i> a piece of the new meat +here last night," answered A'tim, as he +nosed under an overhanging cut-bank. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48" href="#Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +"Forest thieves!" he ejaculated angrily; +"the Gray Stealers of Things +have taken it." His <i>cache</i> was as bare +as Mother Hubbard's cupboard—not +even a bone; there was nothing but the +reddened stones where the meat had +lain, and a foul odor of Wolf. Impetuously +he rushed to the second +<i>cache</i>; it, too, was void of all meat; +the third <i>cache</i> held nothing but the +footprints of his gray half-brothers, the +Wolf Thieves.</p> + +<p>Despair crept into the heart of +A'tim; what use to explore the fourth +<i>cache</i>? The meat would be gone of a +certainty. Why had he slept so +soundly? Why had he hidden the meat +at all? Oh! but he <i>was</i> stupid; as silly +as a calf Musk Ox.</p> + +<p>And the other meat up at the Pound, +such as was left, would be full of Death +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49" href="#Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +Powder, put there for the Gray Runners. +How he hoped they might eat +it all—the thieves! It seemed such unnecessary +looting, too, to steal his food +when there was so much at the +Pound; it was like the persecution that +had kept him an Outcast from the +Wolf Pack.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing meaner in the +world than a Wolf," he muttered; +"nothing; and already I am hungry +again."</p> + +<p>At his fourth <i>cache</i> he scratched indifferently. +But the long nails of his +paw touched something soft and yielding—it +was flesh. How had it escaped +the Gray Stealers?</p> + +<p>"See, Shag," he said, bringing his +joint close to the Bull, and laying it +down lovingly, "last night I laid in a +grub stake, as my old Master would +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50" href="#Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +say, that would have landed me in fair +condition in the Northland. Those +accursed Wolves, of whose kind I am +not, being a Dog, have stolen it—all but +this piece. It was out of consideration +for you, my friend, knowing your dread +of the blood smell, that made me <i>cache</i> +it a little apart. How I wish I had +lain on it—made my bed on its soft, +sweet sides. Such meat I have not +eaten for many a day."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," lamented Shag; "it's +too bad. Here is nothing but sorrow +for every one. See how still and quiet +the old Range is; only those slayers of +Redmen up by the Pound. Years ago, +A'tim, perhaps when you were a Pup, +all this prairie that is so beautiful with +its short Buffalo grass, was just covered +with people of my kind; and Antelope—though +they were not of our kind, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51" href="#Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +still we liked to see them—there was +no harm in them, being, like ourselves, +Grass Feeders; and to the South-West, +Dog-Wolf——"</p> + +<p>"I am no Wolf," interrupted A'tim, +thinking of his stolen meat; "I am a +Dog!"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Dog, to the South-West—from +here we can even see Chief +Mountain where is that land—there +were beautiful big-horned Elk, also +Grass Feeders, and of a sweet temper."</p> + +<p>"I know," ejaculated A'tim, licking +at his flesh food; "in the North it +was just the same with the Caribou, the +whole land alive with them—and +Mooswa, too."</p> + +<p>"But now, A'tim, since the coming +of the Palefaces we are slaughtered by +them and by the Redmen. L-o-u-g-h +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52" href="#Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +—h-o-o! +I shall leave this old Range +to-day forever; my heart is sad."</p> + +<p>"Come with me, then, Brother," +cried A'tim; "together we will go to +the land of which I have spoken. It +is a long, lone trail for one. I will +guard you well, for I know Man's +ways; and at night we will rest side by +side."</p> + +<p>"I will go," said the Bull simply.</p> + +<p>"Let us start," cried A'tim, seizing +his joint of Buffalo meat, and sweeping +the horizon with suspicious eyes.</p> + +<p>"Your eating is heavy," said Shag; +"I will carry it for you on my horns. +L-o-u-g-h—h-u! the blood smells terrible!" +he exclaimed as A'tim pulled +the buffalo flesh over Shag's forehead.</p> + +<p>Then the two Outcasts took up the +long trail toward the Northland, where +in a woof of sage green and bracken +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53" href="#Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +gold was woven a scheme of flesh-colored +Castillejia, and wine-tinted +moose-weed, and purple pea-flower; +where was the golden shimmer of Gaillardia +and slender star-leafed sunflower; +the pencil stalk of blue-joint, +and the tasseled top of luscious pony-grass: +a veritable promised land for the +old Bull, buffeted of his fellows, and +finding the short grass of the Southland +stubbornly hard against his worn teeth.</p> + +<p>There, too, was Wapoos, the Hare +so easily caught in the years of plenty, +and A'tim need never feel the pangs of +a collapsing stomach. There also were +Marten, and Grouse, and Pheasant, and +Kit Beaver, and other animals sweet +against the tongue. Surely the Dog-Wolf +had lingered too long in that barren +Southern country, where there was +only the rat-faced Gopher, who was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54" href="#Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +but a mouthful; with, perhaps, the +chance of a Buffalo Calf caught away +from the Herd. Even that chance was +gone now, for man was killing them +all off. Yes, it was well that they +should trail to the Northland, each said +to the other.</p> + +<p>For days they plodded over the prairie, +cobwebbed into deep ruts by Buffalo +trails leading from grassland to water.</p> + +<p>It was on the third day that A'tim +said to the Buffalo Bull: "I am thirsty, +Shag; my throat is hot with the dust. +Know you of sweet drinking near—even +with your sense of the hidden +drinking you can find it, Great Bull, +can you not?"</p> + +<p>"This hollow trail leads to water, +most assuredly," answered Shag, stepping +leisurely into a path that was like +an old plow furrow in a hay meadow. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55" href="#Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +"Even this shows how many were my +people once." The Buffalo sighed. +"Within sight are more trails like this +than you have toes to your feet, Dog-Wolf—this +whole mighty Range from +here to the Uplands, which is the home +of the White Storm, is so marked with +the trails of my people; and now there +are only these Water Runs to remind us +of them."</p> + +<p>Soon they came to a little lake blue +with the mirrored sky, its mud banks +white as though with driven snow. +"The bitter water mark," said Shag, as +his heavy hoof sank through the white +crust on the dark mud.</p> + +<p>"I know," answered A'tim—"alkali, +that's what Man calls it."</p> + +<p>"Let us rest here this night—close to +the drinking," commanded Shag; "to-morrow +we will go forward again."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56" href="#Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> +<p>That night A'tim ate the last of the +Buffalo meat Shag had packed on his +horns for him. The next day they +trailed again toward the Northland.</p> + +<p>When they came to a river that was +to be forded Shag carried the Dog-Wolf +on his back; when there was presence +of danger, a suspicious horseman, Shag +curled up like a boulder, or crouched in +a coulee, and if the Man came too near +A'tim led him away on a hopeless chase. +Daily the Dog-Wolf grew into the heart +of Shag, the Buffalo, who listened with +eager delight to his tales of the Northland.</p> + +<p>A'tim had fared well while the meat +lasted; but they were now in a land of +much hunger—a land almost devoid of +life; and the Dog-Wolf was coming +again into the chronic state of his existence—famine.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57" href="#Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> +<p>As they trailed Northward the grass +grew richer and softer and more luscious; +Shag commenced to put on fat. +But daily the Dog-Wolf grew hungrier +and thinner. In the vast solitude, walled +on every side by the never-ending sky +from which the stars peeped at night +and the sun smiled by day, there was +little for the Dog-Wolf, who was a flesh-eater. +Scarce anything but Gophers; +not an Antelope, nor a Mule Deer, nor +a Black Tail had they seen for days. +Once a Kit Fox, the small, gray kind of +the prairie, waited tantalizingly with his +nozzle flat on the turf, seemingly asleep, +until A'tim was within two jumps, then +he slipped nonchalantly into his burrow +as though he had just been called to dinner. +A froth of disappointed rage wreathed +the hungry lips of the Dog-Wolf. +Surely he was in danger of starvation.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58" href="#Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> +<p>For two days he lived on a single +Mole, unearthed quite by chance; then +a Gopher, stalked from behind the big +legs of Shag, saved him from utter collapse. +Of a verity he was living from +hand to mouth; such abject poverty he +had never known, not even in the Southland +by the Blood Reserve.</p> + +<p>"Carry me, Brother," he said to the +Bull, "for I am weak like a new Pup. +If I could but see a Trapper's shack or +a camp," he confided to Shag, as he +clung to the Bull's hump, "I might find +something to eat—Ghur-r-r! a piece of +the Pork Eating, or a half-picked bone, +or a Duck killed by the Fire-stick! +Even one of my own kind, a Dog, would +I eat, I'm that famished—Great Bull, is +that not a shack?" he exclaimed suddenly +as a square building loomed on the +horizon. +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59" href="#Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> +<p>"I think I see it," said the Bull; +"but my eyes are no longer good at a +great distance."</p> + +<p>As they journeyed toward the object +Shag suddenly stopped and gave a loud +bubbling guffaw.</p> + +<p>"What are you laughing at, Bull?" +demanded A'tim angrily.</p> + +<p>"I, who am an Outcast because of +my great age, Dog-Wolf, am even now +a great Fool; and so art thou, A'tim, an +Outcast and a Fool."</p> + +<p>"Your wit is like yourself, Shag, +heavy and not too pleasing. Pray, why +am I a Fool!"</p> + +<p>"That is no shack," answered the +Bull; "it is but a rock; there's a line +of them, like a trail of teepees, for miles, +stretching for the length of many a day's +march, running as straight as the cough +of a Fire-stick, all looking like that one. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60" href="#Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +Wie-sah-ke-chack, who is God of the +Animals, put them there for the Buffalo +to brush their hides against—a most +wise act."</p> + +<p>With a weary sigh A'tim turned his +eyes from the deceitful rock, and watched +furtively for the chance of even a small +Kill as they journeyed.</p> + +<p>Day by day Shag was eating of the +richer grass and becoming of a great +corpulency. Envious thoughts commenced +to creep into the mind of +A'tim. Why should he starve and become +a skeleton, while this hulking +Bull, to whom he was acting as a friend +and guide, waxed fat in the land that +was of his finding? Many times Shag +carried the Dog-Wolf on his back, and +at night the heat of his great body kept +A'tim warm.</p> + +<p>But the vicious envy that was in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61" href="#Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +Wolf mind of A'tim started a line of +proper villainy. Let the Bull grow fat. +If the worst came to the worst—if no +other meat was to be had—when the +Frogs, and Moles, and such Waterfowl +as might be surprised had failed, and his +very life depended on food, would not +there be much eating off the body of +this Bull Buffalo? Therefore let him wax +fat. At first A'tim only thought of it +just a little—a flash-light of evil, like the +sting of a serpent; but daily it grew +stronger. What was Shag to him? He +was not of his kind. If, when they came +to the Northland, to the forests of the +Athabasca, the Wapoos were in the year +of plague, and all other animals had fled +the boundaries because of this, and there +was no food to be had, why should he +not feast for days and days off the Buffalo?—that +is, if anything happened to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62" href="#Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +Shag. Something might happen to him +very easily. A'tim knew of many muskegs +where a stupid, heavy-footed Bull +might be mired; also, there was the +poison plant, the Death Flower of the +Monkshood. He could persuade the +stupid Shag to eat of it, and in an hour +the Bull would die—puffed up like a +Cow's udder; it would not hurt the +flesh. Eu-h-h! there were many ways. +Shag's company was good—he was weary +of being alone; it was dreadful to be an +Outcast; but rather than starve to death—well, +he would eat his friend.</p> + +<p>What matter to him the ever-increasing +beauty of the landscape, the richer +growth that appealed strongly to his +companion from the bare Southern plain? +The wild rose bushes, red-berried in the +autumn of their fruitage, caressed their +ankles as they passed; pink and white +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63" href="#Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +berries clung to silver-leafed Buffalo willow +like rose-tinted snowflakes; hazel +and wild cherry and gentle maple swayed +in the prairie wind, and sent fluttering +leaf-kisses to the parent earth. Great +patches of feed-land waved silver gray +with a tasseled spread of seeding grasses. +Oh! but they were coming into a land +of much growth. Shag the Bull lowed +in soft content as he rested full-bellied +on the black-loamed prairie. All the +time A'tim was but thinking of something +to kill, something to eat.</p> + +<p>That was as they came to Egg Lake.</p> + +<p>"Trail slowly, kind Brother," admonished +the Dog-Wolf. "It is now the +season of many Ducks here, even at Egg +Lake; perchance in the reed grass yonder, +by the willows, I may stalk a Wavey, +or even a Goose." Ghur-r-r! but he +was hungry!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64" href="#Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> +<p>A'tim stole on in front; flat to the +grass his belly, and low his head. As +silently as floating foam on still water he +passed into the thicket of reed grass, his +fierce eyes fixed on four Mallard that +gabbled and dove their supple heads to +the mud bottom for wild rice. Only a +little farther and A'tim would be upon +them. Shag was watching solicitously +the stalk of his friend.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, and without provocation, +the lake seemed to stand up on end +and commence throwing things about. +The Bull was startled—what did it all +mean? Gradually something huge and +black began to take shape and form +from amidst the whirl of many moving +things.</p> + +<p>"A Bear!" gasped Shag. "By the +strength of my neck he means to devour +A'tim!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65" href="#Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> +<p>With a rushing charge Shag was upon +the fighters—only just in time, for +Muskwa had A'tim in his long-clawed +grasp, and in another instant would have +crushed his Dog ribs. And in the succession +of surprises one came to Muskwa +with vivid suddenness, for he was lifted +on a pair of strong horns, like a Cub, +and thrown with great speed far out +into the thin waters of the lake.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Great Bull," panted the +frightened Dog-Wolf, creeping painfully +from the thick sedge grass. "He +also was after the ducks, I think; I +walked right on top of him, I was that +busy with my hunt."</p> + +<p>"If I had not been in such a blundering +hurry," lamented Shag, "I +might have saved him for your eating; +but he's gone now."</p> + +<p>And so they journeyed till they came +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66" href="#Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +to Battle River. There A'tim caught +three frogs among the blossom-topped +leeks; they were no more than three +small oysters to a hungry man.</p> + +<p>"The water is deep and the banks +steep," grunted Shag, looking dubiously +at the stream.</p> + +<p>"Lower down is a ford," answered +A'tim; "we will cross there." For +when Shag swam in deep water the +Dog-Wolf found it difficult to keep on +his back.</p> + +<p>"A teepee!" exclaimed A'tim, as +they came close to the crossing.</p> + +<p>"Let us go back and swim the +river," pleaded Shag; "there will be +hunters within the lodge."</p> + +<p>"No, wait you here," commanded +A'tim; "there will surely be food in +the teepee, and I mean to have it."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<a href="images/ill093.jpg" name="MUSKWA" id="MUSKWA"> +<img src="images/ill093tn.jpg" width="150" height="225" class="plain" alt="MUSKWA HAD A'TIM IN HIS LONG-CLAWED GRASP." title="MUSKWA HAD A'TIM IN HIS LONG-CLAWED GRASP." /> +</a> +<span class="caption">MUSKWA HAD A'TIM IN HIS LONG-CLAWED GRASP.</span> +</div> + +<p>"Be careful," warned Shag; "this is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67" href="#Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +a land of scarcity, and the hunters may +bring us evil."</p> + +<p>But already A'tim was skulking toward +a small canvas tent, gleaming white beside +the blue waters of Battle River. The Bull +lay down to conceal his great bulk, and +watched apprehensively the foray of his +pillaging comrade. A'tim circled until +he was down wind from the teepee.</p> + +<p>"The Man is not in his burrow," he +muttered, sniffing the air that floated from +the tent to his sensitive nostrils; "but I +smell the brown Pork Meat they eat."</p> + +<p>Cautiously, stealthily, burying his +brown-gray body in the river grass, he +stole to the very tent pegs of the canvas +shelter; there he listened, as still +and silent as the river stones. There +was no sound within; no living thing +even drew breath beyond the cotton +wall—he could have heard that.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68" href="#Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> +<p>In through the flap he slipped. Yes, +his scouting had been perfect. A pair +of blankets, an iron fry-pan, and—ah! +there was the rich brown meat, its +white edge gleaming a welcome. With +a famished snarl A'tim fastened his lean +jaws upon it, and sprang for the door. +He was none too quick. "Thud, +thudety-thud, thudety-thudety-thud!" +a horseman was hammering down the +sloping bank across the ford.</p> + +<p>As A'tim leaped from the tent the +horseman shouted and drove big rowel +spurs hard up the flank of his galloping +Cayuse.</p> + +<p>"Just my evil chance!" snarled +A'tim as he headed for Shag; "but +what is a small piece of Bacon compared +with a big Buffalo?" For into +his quick Wolf brain came the safety +thought that should the pursuing hunter +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69" href="#Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +sight Shag he would follow, and let the +bacon go.</p> + +<p>As the Man galloped he unslung a +gun, and fired at the fleeing Dog-Wolf. +A little sputter of dust drove into the +nostrils of A'tim as a trade ball spat in +his face and buried itself in front of +him. There was no second shot; only +the "thudety-thud" of the Pony's hoofs. +The pursuer was armed with a muzzle-loading +trade musket.</p> + +<p>The shot startled Shag. Now he +could see them rushing his way; soon +they would be upon him. With a bellow +of frightened rage at the stupidity +of A'tim, he stuck his scraggy tail +out with its tip curled over his back, +and broke into a solemn gallop.</p> + +<p>In an instant the hunter swerved from +his course and raced for the Bull, loading +his gun as the Cayuse swung along +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70" href="#Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +under a free rein. Shag chuckled softly +as he spread his great quarters, and +hung his nose closer to earth.</p> + +<p>"It's a down trail for miles," he +muttered, "and I, who in my prime +have outrun the fastest Buffalo Horses +of the Bloods and Blackfeet, can surely +show that lean-flanked Pack Animal a +long trail. Mou-o-o-h! but already I +feel in my veins the strength of this +rich feeding." And the huge form +slipped down the gentle grade of sloping +plain like an express train. Once +the hunter threw the butt of his musket +to shoulder and fired; but half the +powder charge had spilled in the restless +loading, and the trade ball wandered +aimlessly yards wide of the fleeing +Bull. Shag grunted and kinked +his tail derisively as the spirit of old +times threw its glamor over him. It +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71" href="#Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +was years since he had been thought +worthy of the chase; surely he was becoming +of some account in the Buffalo +world again.</p> + +<p>A'tim, sitting on his haunches, +watched the departing cavalcade, and +industriously absorbed much of the fat +pork. "I can carry it better in my +stomach," he reasoned philosophically. +"But who would have thought old +Shag had it in him?" he muttered in +admiration.</p> + +<p>As he gazed, the extent of territory +between Shag and his pursuer widened +perceptibly. The overworked Pony +was tired; no doubt his rider had trailed +for many a league with him, and he was +in no condition for the fierce gallop of +a Buffalo Run.</p> + +<p>A'tim finished the bacon with undoubted +relish, then struck out across +the boundless field of grass. "I must +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72" href="#Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +not lose sight of Shag," he thought; +"there will not always be bacon for the +stealing when I am on the edge of +starvation."</p> + +<p>At last the Pony was pulled to a +walk, turned about, and headed for the +teepee that nestled on the river bank. +The rider was indulging in much injudicious +vituperation of all the animal +kingdom, including his own well-blown +Cayuse, whose trembling flanks vouched +for the energy with which he had tried +to overhaul the galloping Bull.</p> + +<p>A'tim circled wide, and, when he +considered it safe, fell into Shag's trail +and followed on. Soon he overtook his +comrade. "Well done, my big Bull!" +he exclaimed; "that was a rare turn +you did me."</p> + +<p>"It was," answered Shag shortly; +"hardly of my own choosing, though; +you thrust it upon me. I suppose you +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73" href="#Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +were bringing me the bacon, kind +Brother?"</p> + +<p>"I knew you could do it," flattered +A'tim. "You have the full speed of a +Spike Horn, and the great wisdom of +your own age."</p> + +<p>Shag said nothing; he was angry at +the selfish heartlessness of the other +Outcast. It seemed hardly a fair +recognition of the service he had rendered +the Dog-Wolf when he prodded +the Bear from his throat.</p> + +<p>"Come, let us be moving," he said; +"we must find another crossing."</p> + +<p>"Oh! but I feel years younger," +cried A'tim joyfully, as they headed +again for Battle River. "Euh-euh-euh-euh! +Yap-yap-yap!" he laughed; +"this eating has put the joyousness of +a Pup into my heart."</p> + +<p>That night they crossed the river at +another ford, and slept in a bluff of slim-bodied +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74" href="#Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +white poplars, for they were on +the edge of the North timber lands.</p> + +<p>"This is good cover," muttered A'tim, +as he raked the yellow heart-shaped +leaves of the poplar together for a bed.</p> + +<p>"It's new to me," muttered Shag; +"and it will also give cover to one's +enemies; one must be very cautious in +the Northland, I think."</p> + +<p>Then the two Outcasts slept together +on the border of the North +fairyland to which the Dog-Wolf was +leading Shag the Bull.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/ill102.jpg" width="250" height="191" alt="THE NORTHLAND" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><a name="Chapter_Four" id="Chapter_Four"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill103.jpg" width="400" height="158" alt="CHAPTER FOUR" title="CHAPTER FOUR" /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75" href="#Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> +<p>In the morning A'tim had for his +breakfast a wistful remembrance +of the yesterday's eating—that +was all; while Shag made a frugal +meal off the bronzed grass, fast curing +on its stem for the winter forage.</p> + +<p>"There'll be good eating here for +the Grass Feeders," he said, grinding +leisurely at the wild hay.</p> + +<p>"Indeed there will," answered the +Dog-Wolf. "The Grass Feeders will +wax fat for the benefit of the Meat Eaters. +I wish one would come my way +now," he sighed hungrily.</p> + +<p>"We are almost half way," continued +A'tim, as he trotted beside the long-striding +Bull. +</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76" href="#Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> +<p>"I'm glad of that, Brother. My foot +joints are not so well oiled as they once +were, and are getting hot and dry. +Strange that we should not see some of +our cousins, is it not, Dog-Wolf?"</p> + +<p>"I saw one yesterday," replied A'tim.</p> + +<p>"Aye, Brother, and he saw you, too."</p> + +<p>"Else I had eaten him," added the +Dog-Wolf.</p> + +<p>"A Coyote?" asked Shag incredulously; +"eat a Coyote? Impossible! +No animal ever ate a Coyote!"</p> + +<p>"No animal was ever so hungry as I +was yesterday before Wie-sah-ke led me +to the Fat Bacon."</p> + +<p>"It's terribly dreary," said Shag, returning +again to his first thought; "no +Elk, no Antelope, no Buffalo, no Indian +Cayuse. Why is it? Has Man killed +them all off, as he has done with my +people?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77" href="#Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<p>"Yes, Man, and the Man-fire. From +the black that is underneath this new +grass I know that last year the Man-fire +swept over this land faster and straighter +than a Wolf Pack gallops——"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he broke off and made a +fierce rush into the prairie. A brown +Cow-Bird flew up and lighted on Shag's +horn. The Dog-Wolf rose on his hind +legs and snapped viciously at the Bird.</p> + +<p>"Steady, Dog-Wolf, steady," admonished +Shag, "this is a friend of mine. +Do you not know the Cow-Bird, who +is always with the Herd?"</p> + +<p>"Who is your friend?" asked the +Cow-Bird of Shag. "Queer company +you keep, Great Bull; a Herd Leader +leading a Wolf is new to me."</p> + +<p>"I'm no Wolf, Scavenger!" retorted +A'tim. "I'm a Dog; I'll crack +your——"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78" href="#Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> +<p>"Perhaps, perhaps," retorted the Cow-Bird.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps what?" snarled A'tim.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you're a Dog, and perhaps +you will crack my—neck, you were going +to say. Are you leading the Bull +to your Wolf Pack, perhaps—Dog?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Comrades," interrupted +Shag. "We are glad of your company, +little Cow-Bird—are we not, A'tim?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the Dog-Wolf, licking +his chops, and looking treacherously +from the corner of his slit eyes at the +Bird.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going, Great Bull?" +asked the Cow-Bird, spreading his deep-brown +wings mockingly, as though he +would fly down on the Dog-Wolf's head.</p> + +<p>"To the Northland."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<a href="images/ill107.jpg" name="STEADY" id="STEADY"> +<img src="images/ill107tn.jpg" width="150" height="227" class="plain" alt=""STEADY, DOG-WOLF, STEADY," ADMONISHED SHAG, "THIS IS A +FRIEND OF MINE."" title=""STEADY, DOG-WOLF, STEADY," ADMONISHED SHAG, "THIS IS A +FRIEND OF MINE."" /> +</a> +<span class="caption">"STEADY, DOG-WOLF, STEADY," ADMONISHED SHAG, "THIS IS A +FRIEND OF MINE."</span> +</div> + +<p>"I know," quoth the Bird; "but I +stick to the plains; why, I don't know, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79" href="#Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +for there are few Buffalo now. This +summer I made a long trip. I started +in at Edmonton with a Herd of the +Man's Buffalo."</p> + +<p>"I've seen them," said Shag; "great +clumsy things without shape or make; +as big behind as they are in front; of a +verity the shape of their own carts."</p> + +<p>"Well," continued the Bird, "there +was a matter of a dozen of these creatures +tied to a four-wheeled cart, and I +followed the Herd through to the place +they call Fort Garry. But I got tired +of it—day after day the same thing. +What I like is to fly about. Now, I'll +travel with you to-day, just for companionship, +and to-morrow I shall be off +with some new friend."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," mumbled the Wolf.</p> + +<p>"Did you speak, Wolf?" perked the +Bird.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80" href="#Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> +<p>"I said, 'Good riddance,'" snapped +A'tim.</p> + +<p>"He, he, he!" laughed the Cow-Bird; +"your friend is pleasant company, +Great Bull."</p> + +<p>That night the two Outcasts and the +Cow-Bird camped together, near the +Saskatchewan River; the brown body +curled up contentedly on Shag's horn, +while the Dog-Wolf slept against his +paunch.</p> + +<p>In the morning the Cow-Bird was +gone.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen him?" Shag asked +of A'tim.</p> + +<p>"He flew away early," answered the +Dog-Wolf.</p> + +<p>"He should have taken all his coat +with him," answered Shag, thrusting +from his mouth a bunch of grass in which +were three brown feathers.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81" href="#Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> +<p>"He flew far away," affirmed A'tim +sheepishly.</p> + +<p>"The length of your gullet, Dog-Wolf," +declared Shag. "Thou must be +wondrous hungry to eat one of our own +party—a cannibal."</p> + +<p>A'tim answered nothing as they journeyed +down along the steep, heavily +wooded river bank, its soft shale sides slid +into mighty terraces, but in his heart was +a murder thought, as he eyed the great +bulk of his Brother Outcast, that he +would also eat him.</p> + +<p>They passed over the broad Saskatchewan, +running emerald green between +its high, pink-earthed banks, through a +long, tortuous ford, taking Shag to the +belly and half way up his ribs. As they +topped the north bank and rested after +the steep climb, A'tim pointed his nose +to a distant flat where nestled the white +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82" href="#Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +stockaded fort of the Hudson's Bay Company.</p> + +<p>"That's Fort Edmonton," he said +bitterly; "and see the cluster of teepees +all about, thick as Muskrat lodges in a +muskeg. Because of the dwellers within +there is no eating to be had here for +me. Cree Indians, and Half-breeds, and +Palefaces, all searching the country for +something to kill; and when they have +slaughtered the Beaver, and Marten, and +Foxes, and everyting else that has life, +they bring the pelts there and get fire-water, +which burns their stomachs and +sets their brains on fire. An honest +hunter like myself, who only kills to stay +the hunger that is bred in him, has no +chance; we must sneak and steal, or die."</p> + +<p>"But there will be much waste of +the Bacon Food there, surely, A'tim. +Why do you not replenish the stomach +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83" href="#Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +that is but a curse to you, being empty, +at the lodges we see?"</p> + +<p>"No, friend Bull," answered the +Dog-Wolf; "unwittingly enough I +nearly caused you disaster the last time +I fed at Man's expense. That time there +was but one hunter; here are many, and +they would slay you quick enough."</p> + +<p>This was all a lie; the Dog-Wolf had +no such consideration for his Brother +Outcast. At the Fort were fierce-fanged +hounds that would run him to earth of +a certainty should he venture near; +either that, or if caught he would be +quickly clapped into a Dog Train, and +made to push against a collar. Many a +weary day of that he had in his youth; +he would rather starve as a vagabond. +Also, would he not perhaps fall heir to +the eating that was on the body of the +huge Bull?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84" href="#Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> +<p>"No, Brother," he said decisively; +"we shall soon come to a land with +food for both of us; let us go."</p> + +<p>Toward the Athabasca they journeyed. +The prairie was almost done with, only +patches of it now like fields; poplar and +willow and birch growing everywhere; +and beyond the Sturgeon River, tiny forests +of gnarled, stunted jack-pine, creeping +wearily from a soft carpet of silver +and emerald moss which lay thick upon +the white sand hills. Little red berries, +like blood stars, peeped at them from +the setting of silk lace moss—wintergreen +berries, and grouse berries, and +lowbush cranberries, all blushing a furious +red.</p> + +<p>"I could sleep here forever," muttered +Shag, as he rolled in luxurious +content on this forest rug.</p> + +<p>"I can't sleep because of my hunger +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85" href="#Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +pains," snarled A'tim. "You who are +well fed care not how I fare." A'tim +was petulantly unreasonable.</p> + +<p>Shag looked at the Dog-Wolf wonderingly. +"I'm sorry for you, for your +hunger, Dog Brother. Did I not call +lovingly to a Moose Calf but to-day, +thinking to entice him your way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and frightened the big-nosed, +spindle-legged suckling with your gruff +voice, so that what should have been an +easy stalk turned out a long chase for +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," responded Shag soothingly, +"no doubt you will soon have +food—this can't go on forever, this barrenness +of the woods; I'm sorry for +you, for once I had nothing to eat for +days and days. That was ten seasons +of the Calf-gathering since—I remember +it well. The White Storm came +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86" href="#Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +in the early Cold Time, and buried the +whole Range to the depth of my belly. +We Buffalo did nothing but drift, drift, +drift—like locusts, or dust before the +wind. We always go head-on to a +storm, for our heads are warm clothed +with much hair, but when it lasts for +days and days we grow weary, and just +drift looking for food, for grass. I remember, +at Pot Hole, which is a deep +coulee, and has always been a great +shelter to us in such times, on one side +was some grass still bare of the White +Storm; but the Buffalo were so many +they ate it as locusts might—quicker +than I tell it. As I have said, Dog-Wolf, +I lived for a month off the fat +that was in my loins about the kidneys, +for I had never a bite to eat. Then +the fat, aye, even the red meat, commenced +to melt from my hump and my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87" href="#Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +neck, even to my legs, and I grew +weak—so weak I could hardly crawl. +Many of us died; first the Cow Mothers, +giving up their lives for the Calves, +A'tim; then the old people; we who +were in the middle of life (for I was a +Smooth Horn then, Brother, and Leader +of the Herd) lived through this terrible +time.</p> + +<p>"It was a great weeding out of the +Herd; it was like the sweep of the fire +breath that bares the prairie only to +make the grass come up stronger and +sweeter again. Longingly we waited +for our friend, the gentle Chinook, to +come up out of the Southwest; but this +time it must have got lost in the mountains, +for only the South wind, which is +always cold, or a blizzard breath from +the Northwest blew across the bleak, +white-covered Buffalo land.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88" href="#Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> +<p>"One night, just as I thought I must +surely die before morning, a sweet +moisture came into my nostrils, and I +knew that our Wind Brother, the +Chinook, had found us at last. The +sun smiled at us in the morning and +warmed the white cover, and by night +we could see the grass; next day the +White Storm was all gone. So, Brother +Outcast, I too, know what it is to be +hungry. Have a strong heart—food +will be sent."</p> + +<p>"Sent!" snapped A'tim crabbedly; +"who will send it? Will my Gray Half-Brothers, +who are Wolves, send it—come +and lay a dead Caribou at my +feet? Will the Train Dogs, of whose +kind I am, come and feed me with +White Fish—the dried Fish their drivers +give them so sparingly?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot say, Dog-Wolf; but surely +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89" href="#Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +food does not come of one's own thinking. +The grass does not grow because +of me, but for me. The Animals all +say it is our God, Wie-sah-ke-chack, +who sends the eating."</p> + +<p>"E-u-h-h!" yawned A'tim sulkily, +swinging his head in petulant irritation, +"I must have meat, no matter +where it comes from; I can't starve." +There was a covert threat in the Dog-Wolf's +voice, but Shag did not notice +it—his mind was above that sort of +thing.</p> + +<p>In the evening, as they entered a little +thicket of dogberry bushes growing +in low land, a small brown shadow +flitted across their path. With a snarl +A'tim was after it, crushing through +the long, dry, spike-like grass in hot +pursuit. Shag waited.</p> + +<p>Back and forth, up and down, in and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90" href="#Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +out, double and twist, sometimes near +and sometimes far, but always with the +"Ghur-r-r!" of the Dog-Wolf's breath +coming to Shag's ears, the shadow and +its pursuer chased. Suddenly Shag +started as a plaintive squeak died away +in a harsh growl of exultation.</p> + +<p>"He has him," muttered Shag; +"this will stay the clamor of his hunger +talk, I hope."</p> + +<p>The well-blown Dog-Wolf came +back carrying a Hare. "Hardly worth +the trouble," he said disdainfully, laying +the fluffy figure down at Shag's feet. +"Now I know of a surety why the +Flesh Feeders have fled the Boundaries; +it is the Plague Year of Wapoos. This +thing that should be fat, and of tender +juiciness, is but a skin full of bones; +there are even the plague lumps in his +throat. There is almost as much poison +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91" href="#Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +in this carrion as in a Trapper's +bait; but I must eat of it, for I am +wondrous hungry."</p> + +<p>"I, also, have eaten bad food in my +time," said Shag; "great pains in the +stomach I've had from it. Some seasons +the White Storm would come +early in the Cold Time, and cover the +grass not yet fully ripened into seed. It +would hold warm because of this, and +grow again, and become green; then +the white cover would go, and the +grass would freeze and become sour to +the tongue. Mou-u-ah! but all through +the Cold Time I would have great +pains. How far do we go now, A'tim, +till we rest in the Northland?"</p> + +<p>"Till there is food for both of us."</p> + +<p>"Quite true," concurred Shag. "We +must go on until you also have food, my +friend."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92" href="#Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> +<p>It was coming up the bank out of +La Biche River that A'tim, perfectly +mad with hunger, made a vicious snap +at the Bull's leg, just above the hock, +meaning to hamstring him. Shag flipped +about and faced the Dog Wolf.</p> + +<p>"What is this, A'tim?" he demanded, +lowering his horns and stamping +in vexed restlessness.</p> + +<p>"A big fly of the Bull-Dog kind. I +snapped at him, and in my eagerness +grazed your leg."</p> + +<p>Shag tossed his huge head unbelievingly, +and snorted through his dilated +nostrils. "There are no Bull-Dogs +now, A'tim; they were killed off days +since by the white-striped Hornets."</p> + +<p>"There was one, Shag—at least I +thought so, Great Bull."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't think again—just that +way. Once bitten is twice shy with +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93" href="#Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +me; and, as you see, I carry the Tribe +mark of your Wolf-kind in my thigh +since the time I was a Calf."</p> + +<p>"Ghur-r-r! Of the Wolf-kind, quite +true, Great Bull—that is their way; +but I, who am no Wolf, but a Dog, do +not seek to hamstring my friends."</p> + +<p>The Bull answered nothing, but as +they journeyed watched his companion +carefully.</p> + +<p>"Dreadfully foolish!" mused A'tim. +"I must coax this stupid Bull into a +muskeg; his big carcass will keep me +alive through all the Cold Time."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/ill123.jpg" width="250" height="148" alt="BUFFALO HERD IN A STORM" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><a name="Chapter_Five" id="Chapter_Five"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill124.jpg" width="400" height="147" alt="CHAPTER FIVE" title="CHAPTER FIVE" /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94" href="#Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> +<p>They were now well within +the treacherous muskeg lands +which border the Athabasca; +and that very night, while Shag slumbered +in the deep sleep of a full age, +A'tim, whose lean stomach tugged at +his eyelids and kept them open, stole +off into the forest, and searched by the +strong light of the moon for a bog that +would mire his comrade to death.</p> + +<p>An open piece of swamp land, fringed +by tamarack and slim-bodied spruce, +promised fair for his scheme. Back and +forth, back and forth over its cushion +of deep moss he passed, seeking for a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95" href="#Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +treacherous place—a place wherein Shag +would sink to the belly; where the +sand-mud would grasp his legs like +soft chains and hold him to his death, +but not engulf the body—that must +remain for A'tim's eating.</p> + +<p>"Euh-h! the very thing!" he exclaimed +joyously, as his foot sank deep +in soft slime. "Yes, indeed, the very +spot. Now must I cover up its black +mud so that the blurred eyes of old Shag +will see only a fair trail, not over ankle-deep."</p> + +<p>For an hour he labored with rare +villainy, carrying bunches of moss to +cover up the black ooze, that was not +more than twenty feet broad; even +small willow wands and coarse rush grass +he placed under the moss, so that he +himself, light-footed as a cat, might cross +ahead of the unsuspicious Bull, and lure +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96" href="#Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +him to his death. "There," he said +finally, as he sat on his haunches and +rested for a minute, looking like a ghoul +in the ghostly moonlight, "I think that's +a trick worthy of my Wolf cunning." +Then he hastened back to the other +Outcast.</p> + +<p>Shag was awake and heard the Dog-Wolf +creep to his side. "Where have +you been, A'tim?" he asked sleepily.</p> + +<p>"I heard a strange noise in the forest, +and thought perhaps some evil Hunter +had followed your big trail; fearing for +your safety, Brother, I went to see what +it was."</p> + +<p>"And?" queried Shag.</p> + +<p>"It was nothing—nothing but a Lynx +or some prowling animal." Shag was +already snoring heavily again, and the +Dog-Wolf, tired by his exertion, also +soon slumbered.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97" href="#Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> +<p>Next morning A'tim was in rare good +humor. "We shall only have another +day or two of this weary tramp," he +said, "for the air is full of the perfume +of living things; also things that are +dead, for yonder, high in the air, float +three Birds of the Vulture kind. I shall +be in the land of much eating to-day +or to-morrow, I know."</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that," answered Shag +heartily; "I am tired of this long tramp—my +bones ache from it."</p> + +<p>Talking almost incessantly to distract +the other's attention, A'tim led the way +straight for his muskeg trap.</p> + +<p>"There is some lovely blue-joint +grass on the other side of this beautiful +little plain," he said as they came to the +tamarack border of the swamp.</p> + +<p>"Is it safe crossing?" asked Shag.</p> + +<p>"Quite safe," answered the Dog-Wolf; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98" href="#Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +"there is not a mud spot to be +seen—you will scarce wet a shin. I +will go ahead and warn you should it +so happen that there be a soft hole; +follow close in my track."</p> + +<p>"Lough-hu! lough-hu!" grunted +the Bull at the first step in the muskeg, +as his foot cushioned in the deep moss: +"this is like walking on the White +Storm." Ere he could take another +step a startled, "Mouah! Mouah!" +struck on his ear. It was the call of +his own kind; and whipping about in +an instant, he saw, staring at him from +the tamarack fringe, a Buffalo Cow.</p> + +<p>Where had she come from? It was +the God of Chance that had sent her +to save the unsuspicious, noble old Bull, +only he did not know that—how could +he? "Perhaps she is an Outcast like +myself," he muttered, advancing eagerly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99" href="#Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +to caress her forehead with his +tongue.</p> + +<p>"Come back, Shag," called the Dog-Wolf, +seeing the destruction of his plan; +"come back to the sweet feeding; that +is but a disgraced Cow, outcasted from +some Herd."</p> + +<p>Startled by the bark of the Dog-Wolf, +or perhaps by the ungainly garb of the +hairless, manged Bull, the Cow turned +and fled. Excited into activity, Shag +galloped after her, his huge feet making +the forest echo with the crack of smashing +timber as he slid through the bush +like an avalanche; but the Cow was +swift of foot, and pig-jinked around +stumps and over timber, and down +coulees and up hills until Shag was +fairly blown and forced to give up the +pursuit.</p> + +<p>"Was there ever such a queer happening?" +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100" href="#Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +exclaimed Shag, staring after the +vanished figure of the Cow. A'tim had +followed with eager gallop, inwardly +reviling the ill luck which had snatched +from him the mighty Kill of the fat +Bull. The Cow Buffalo was, perhaps, +only one of those spirit animals that +prowl at night and utter strange cries.</p> + +<p>Also had they galloped miles past +the muskeg trap, and A'tim dared not +take the Bull back; some new plan +must be devised for his destruction.</p> + +<p>"Where did she come from?" puffed +Shag, his froth-covered tongue lolling +from between big, thick lips; "where +did she come from, A'tim, you who +know the Northland forests?"</p> + +<p>"She's a Wood Buffalo," answered +the Dog-Wolf.</p> + +<p>"What's a Wood Buffalo?" asked +Shag.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101" href="#Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> +<p>"They are even as yourself, Great +Bull; driven from the plains by the +many-breathed Fire-stick, they have +come to this good Range of the Northland. +They go not in Herds, but few +together, as Mooswa and others of the +forest."</p> + +<p>"Why did she run away, Brother +A'tim?" grunted Shag, lying down to +rest.</p> + +<p>The Dog-Wolf laughed disagreeably. +"That is but the way of the Cow kind," +he answered.</p> + +<p>"No," said Shag decisively; "she was +frightened."</p> + +<p>"She was," assented A'tim; "Ghur-r-r! +I should say so."</p> + +<p>"At what?" asked Shag.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Brother, but most assuredly +she was frightened by you."</p> + +<p>"By me—am I not of her kind?"</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102" href="#Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, but how should she know? +Are you like a Buffalo, Shag? Your +hide is bare and scarred, and perhaps +she took you for some evil thing."</p> + +<p>Shag looked ruefully at his great, +scraggy sides, so like an Elephant's, only +more disreputable, and sighed resignedly; +"I suppose I can't help it," he +muttered.</p> + +<p>"You can, Shag; if you will but eat +of the Fur Flower it will cure this evil +disease which is in your blood, and +bring back the beautiful silk coat that +was the envy of the Buffalo Range."</p> + +<p>"Do you speak the truth, Dog-Wolf?" +asked Shag.</p> + +<p>"Most surely. All the Dwellers in +the Northland know that. Are not all +the Forest-Dwellers full-haired?"</p> + +<p>"And this Fur Flower, A'tim; where +is it?"</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103" href="#Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> +<p>"Less than a day's trail," answered +the Dog-Wolf.</p> + +<p>"Find it for me, kind Brother," +begged the Bull. "When one frightens +those of his own kind it is time to +try something."</p> + +<p>As they plodded through the forest, +A'tim muttered: "Now I shall surely +have this vain old Bull. The Death +Coulee is close to Porcupine Water, and +that is not far. Shag shall eat of the +Death Flower, which I have called the +Fur Flower, to improve his appearance; +and when he is dead I will eat of him +to improve mine."</p> + +<p>A three hours' tramp and they came +to a little valley rich in bright yellow +grass, topped by a stately plant that nodded +and rustled in the wind as its many +seed pods swayed like strings of dark +pearls. It was the Monkshood, the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104" href="#Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +deadly aconite, which, when the summer +was young, hung its helmet flower +in a shimmering veil of blue over the +sweet grass of the Death Valley—the +valley known of all animals as the Coulee +of the Long Rest, for he who +browsed there found his limbs bound in +the steel cords of death.</p> + +<p>"There," said A'tim, nodding his +head at the bronze gold of the many +Monkshood, "there is the Fur Flower. +It will be dry eating now, being of a +season's age, but in the early feed-time +it is sweet and tender. While you eat +of it I shall rest here."</p> + +<p>A strong rustling of grass almost at +their heels caused the Dog-Wolf to +spring to his feet in alarm.</p> + +<p>"Eu-h-h, eu-h-h! here is the accursed +Cow again. Where in the name +of Forest Fools have you come from—why +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105" href="#Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +do you follow us?" exclaimed +A'tim.</p> + +<p>"It is the way of my kind," she replied, +"to follow a Herd Leader; there +is no harm in that."</p> + +<p>Into the big, sleepy eyes of Shag crept +a pleased look.</p> + +<p>"Where go you, Great Bull?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"To eat of this Fur Flower my kind +Brother, A'tim, has told me will bring +back my coat; a soft, silky coat it was, too."</p> + +<p>"Eat of that—that which is the +Death Grass growing in the Valley of +the Long Rest! You must wish to die; +our Herd Leader, who was even of your +size, Great Bull, ate of it, and died like +a stricken Calf."</p> + +<p>"What is this?" demanded Shag, his +big, honest eyes turned on A'tim with +a wondering look of unbelief.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106" href="#Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> +<p>"A lie," quoth A'tim; "the Cow is +full of a stupid duplicity: perhaps she +even killed this Herd Leader by some +trick, and blames it on the innocent +Fur Flower. Does it look like a poison +herb, Wise Bull? Is it like the +scraggy Loco Plant of the South Ranges? +Has it not the beautiful blossom of a +good herb? Would Wie-sah-ke-chack, +who is wise, put such a tempting coat +on a death plant?"</p> + +<p>Shag looked puzzled. Why should +A'tim wish him to eat of a Death +Flower; and yet, there was the graze of +the Wolf's fang on his thigh that time +they came up out of La Biche River. +That surely had the full flavor of treachery +about it. His ponderous mind +worked slowly over the tortuous puzzle.</p> + +<p>"I am a stranger here," he said, +"and know little of these herbs, but +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107" href="#Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +this Dog-Wolf, who is also an Outcast +like myself, has trailed from the Southland +with me, and we have been even +as Brothers. Thinking perhaps that my +rough coat was not so fine as it once +was, I listened to the speech of this +Dog-Wolf to the end that this blue-flowered +herb will cause the soft, beautiful +hair to grow again."</p> + +<p>"It is the Death Flower," declared +the Cow with sententious persistence; +"and this Outcast Wolf is a traitor, for +if he is from the Northland he also +knows that, even as in the Southland +they know the Loco Plant."</p> + +<p>A'tim slunk back nervously and +watched Shag with wary caution.</p> + +<p>"Do you believe this lie, Shag, my +dear Friend? Ghur-r-r-ah! do you +think I would do such a thing? This +lone Cow, who is also an Outcast because +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108" href="#Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +of some wrong thing, must be +locoed (mad)—even as every Herd has +one such."</p> + +<p>"I am wise enough not to eat of the +Death Flower, by the knowledge of our +kind. But you can prove all this, Herd +Leader—let the Dog-Wolf eat of this +medicine plant, if it be harmless."</p> + +<p>This clever idea pleased the Bull +mightily. "Yes, A'tim," he cried; +"the Cow, who is but a Buffalo, and, of +course, has not the great Wolf wisdom, +may be mistaken. You who are an +eater of grasses when you are ill, eat of +this Fur Flower, as you name it; then +also I will eat in great faith—after a +little," he added in an undertone.</p> + +<p>A'tim walked backward a few paces +hesitatingly, and, looking wondrous hurt, +said in a deprecating voice: "Ghur-r-rh, +eu-h-h! I have been a friend to you, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109" href="#Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +Lone Bull, even a Brother in solitude; +and now at the word of a stranger, a +silly Cow, who having done some wrong +has been outcasted from her Herd, you +lose faith in me, and treat me as a traitor."</p> + +<p>Still farther into the tangle of birch +and poplar he backed, saying: "Of +course, I couldn't expect you to take +my part against a sleek-hided Buffalo +Cow."</p> + +<p>With a sudden spring he turned, and +barked derisively as he loped through +the forest: "Good-by, bald-hided old +Bull; I will bring harm to you because +of this."</p> + +<p>"I think you were just in time," said +Shag to the Cow; "that Dog-Wolf +meant my death."</p> + +<p>Then Shag learned from the Buffalo +Cow that she was one of a Herd of six, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110" href="#Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +and that the Herd was not very far +away; that they were unguarded because +of the loss of their Leader through +the Death Flower, even as she had said. +Willingly Shag went with her, making +many protestations as to his disreputable +appearance, and the unfitness of his well-worn +stub-horns to battle for them; but +he went.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/ill140.jpg" width="250" height="157" alt="BIRD FLYING" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><a name="Chapter_Six" id="Chapter_Six"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/ill141.jpg" width="400" height="181" alt="CHAPTER SIX" title="CHAPTER SIX" /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111" href="#Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> +<p>A'tim slunk through the forest, +his lean body filled with nothing +but the rage of disappointed +appetite. "I'm starving!" he gasped; +"Starving! I must have something to +eat. By the feast that is in a dead +Buffalo! if that evil-minded Cow had +also eaten of the Death Flower when +her Bull did, as she says, I should now +be closer friend than ever with old +Shag—Shag, the Fool."</p> + +<p>A large dead cottonwood, rotted to +the heart till its flesh was like red earth +mould, lay across his path like an unburied +Redskin. "Should be Grub +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112" href="#Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +Worms here," muttered A'tim, sniffing +at the moss shroud which clothed +the tree corpse. In famine haste he +tore with strong claws at the crumbling +mass. One, two, three large +Grubs, full of a white fat, twisted and +squirmed at their rude awakening; the +Dog-Wolf swallowed them greedily. +"Eu-h-h! Hi, yi! Such a tiny morsel," +he whined plaintively; "they but +give life to the famine pains which +were all but dead through starvation. +Wait, you, fool Bull—I'll crack your +ribs with my strong teeth yet! But +small as the Grubs are there should +be more."</p> + +<p>With swift diligence A'tim excavated, +grumblingly, until his gaunt form +was half buried in the hole.</p> + +<p>Three Gray Shadows were creeping +in stealthy silence upon his flank; owing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113" href="#Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +to his anxious work A'tim was oblivious +to the approaching trouble.</p> + +<p>"E-e-yah!" and quick as a slipping +sound that fluttered his ear A'tim was +up on the dead cottonwood, only to find +himself peering into the lurid eyes of a +huge Wolf.</p> + +<p>Like war stars, four other balls of light +gleamed at him from a close crescent. +The Outcast was clever. Surely this +was a case for diplomacy; he had no +desire to feed three hungry Wolves with +his thin carcass.</p> + +<p>"You startled me, Brothers," he said, +grinning nervously.</p> + +<p>"I did not mean to," replied the Pack +Leader; "my foot slipped on a wet +leaf."</p> + +<p>"Ye-e-s—just so," hesitated A'tim in +deprecating voice; "so fortunate—I +mean—Brothers, I'm sorry I can't offer +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114" href="#Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +you good eating—there were only three +Grubs——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't mention it!" exclaimed +the Wolf; "no doubt we shall find +something for dinner presently—don't +you think so, children?" he asked, turning +to the others.</p> + +<p>"I was going to say," recommenced +the Outcast, "that I could not ask you +to eat just here, but I was actually +on my way to invite you to a big feeding."</p> + +<p>The Timber Wolf bared his fangs in +a grin of derisive unbelief. His comrades +blinked at one another solemnly. +"Was there ever such a liar?"</p> + +<p>A'tim coughed nervously and continued +his politic address. "I heard your +powerful bay, Pack Leader, hours ago, +as I was attending to a little trailing +matter I had on hand, and resolved to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115" href="#Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +invite you to the Kill when I had located +the trailed one."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 227px;"> +<a href="images/ill145.jpg" name="OH_DONT_MENTION" id="OH_DONT_MENTION"> +<img src="images/ill145tn.jpg" width="227" height="150" class="plain" alt=""OH, DON'T MENTION IT!" EXCLAIMED THE WOLF; "NO DOUBT WE SHALL FIND SOMETHING +FOR DINNER PRESENTLY."" title=""OH, DON'T MENTION IT!" EXCLAIMED THE WOLF; "NO DOUBT WE SHALL FIND SOMETHING +FOR DINNER PRESENTLY."" /> +</a> +<span class="caption">"OH, DON'T MENTION IT!" EXCLAIMED THE WOLF; "NO DOUBT WE SHALL FIND SOMETHING +FOR DINNER PRESENTLY."</span> +</div> + +<p>"That's good news," answered the +Wolf, "for we are wondrous hungry," +and he edged closer to the Outcast.</p> + +<p>A'tim shrank into a very small parcel +on the log. "I, too, have been sick for +the need of food. I have starved, actually +starved, for a moon; why, I am nothing +but skin and bone; the smallest creature, +even a weasel, would find it difficult +to fill his stomach from my lean +ribs. Besides, I have eaten off a plague-stricken +Rabbit but a day since, and +my blood is on fire—though there's not +much of it, to be sure. I'm filled with +the accursed plague poison—I believe +there's enough of it in my poor, thin +body to bring to their death a whole +Wolf Pack."</p> + +<p>"That's serious!" exclaimed the Gray +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116" href="#Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +Wolf; "but you'd die anyway, so it +doesn't matter—I mean, never mind +about that just now. Gh-u-r-r-h! what +of this great kill?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Brother Wolves——"</p> + +<p>"Brother <i>Wolves</i>?" questioned the +other with a sneer-tinge in his gruff +voice; "thou art overthick in the +shoulder for a Wolf."</p> + +<p>"I never saw ears like yours on a +Wolf, Newcomer," said one of the +youngsters; "they are short and round +like those of the Huskie Dog we ate. +Is not that so?" he asked, turning to the +Leader.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed; we ate him, I'm +ashamed to say—for Dog meat is horrible—but +what is one to do when there's +naught else in the Boundaries?"</p> + +<p>A'tim shuddered; their merciless eyes +gleamed with the ferocity of famine. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117" href="#Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +Neither his strength nor his speed, +which had so often stood him in good +stead, would avail him this time; nothing +but his half-breed duplicity—Wolf +cunning and Dog wisdom.</p> + +<p>"But I <i>am</i> a Wolf," he reiterated; +"else why should I seek your company +at my Kill?"</p> + +<p>"We were easily found," sneered the +Wolf; "we did not take much calling, +did we? Knowing your desire for our +fellowship, we kept you not waiting—E-a-ah, +Lone Dog? But where hunts +the Pack that carry their tails curled +over their backs like Train Dogs?"</p> + +<p>"It's because of my nervousness—you +startled me," pleaded A'tim; "also +my seat is narrow."</p> + +<p>"And the big, round feet, Lone Dog? +They leave not a Wolf track. And +you're broad in the loin, and heavy in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118" href="#Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +the jowl, and short in the leg—a Dog, +a Hermit Dog, by the knowledge that +has come to me of age."</p> + +<p>"I'm a Wolf from the Southland," +maintained A'tim. "We shape different +there. Our meat is the flesh of +Buffalo, and our Kill is because of +strength, and not speed—therefore we +are of a strong build. You are of the +Northland; swift as the wind, and long +running, Great Wolf—you and your +beautiful Sons—yet was I eager for your +company at this Kill, which has taken +me days to arrange."</p> + +<p>"Buh-h, buh-ha! his great Kill! and +here is the killer slaying fierce, white +Wood Grubs—but never mind; what +of the Kill, Lone Dog?"</p> + +<p>"What say you to a Buffalo—a fat, +young Bull?" asked A'tim, heaving a +sigh of relief; "would not that be a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119" href="#Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +dinner fit for a great Pack Leader, like +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"A Buffalo?" queried the Wolf incredulously. +"I have heard of such in +these forests, but I come from the North, +and have never seen them—have we, +Sons?"</p> + +<p>"Never," they answered, closing in +on A'tim.</p> + +<p>"Even to-day I trailed one, and was +on my way to ask you to the Kill, as is +the way of the Wolf kind. I am no +Dog, to kill and eat in secret."</p> + +<p>"It's truly noble to feed your +friends," declared the Wolf. He snapped +viciously at A'tim's throat with +fang-lined jaws. The Dog-Wolf jumped +back nervously.</p> + +<p>"Wait, Brothers," he pleaded; "you +do not believe me, I see—let us go together, +and if I do not show you this +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120" href="#Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +Buffalo, waiting for the Kill, then—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, then—" sneered the Wolf; +"if you fail to show us this Buffalo, +then—" He grinned diabolically in +A'tim's face.</p> + +<p>"E-e-u-h, I know," exclaimed the +Dog-Wolf, stepping down gingerly +from the log. "You may keep close; +I will show you that I have spoken no +lie."</p> + +<p>Together, one Wolf on either side +of A'tim and one behind, they glided +along his back trail till they came to +the scene of his caustic farewell to +Shag. Suddenly the Pack Leader +stopped, buried his nose in a hoof hole +and sniffed with discriminating intentness.</p> + +<p>"If-if-if-fh-h! By my scent, 'tis not +Mooswa—nor Caribou. What say you, +sons? Perhaps it is the Buffalo of which +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121" href="#Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +the Lone Dog speaks. Phew-yi, hi! +Another trail call. Here are two of +these big-footed creatures, be they Buffalo, +or what—you spoke of but one, +Lone Dog; Wolves do not tackle a +Herd."</p> + +<p>"Only a silly Cow," answered A'tim. +"She will flee at the first blood cry."</p> + +<p>The big Wolf softened a trifle. +Surely here was prospect of a mighty +Kill. There would be much flesh feeding +and blood drinking till they were +gorged. And the Lone Dog would +keep. When the Buffalo were eaten, +then—He look grimly at A'tim's attenuated +form. "Not much to tempt +one after the sweet meat of a Grass +Feeder," he muttered disconsolately. +"How shall we make the Kill, Lone +Dog?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"When we have trailed them down +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122" href="#Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +watch till they feed apart and stampede +the Cow with a fierce rush full of much +cry; then all on the Bull—two in front, +to put them at bay, and two behind +with sharp teeth for the hamstring. +That will lay him helpless as a new +Calf."</p> + +<p>"Thou art a Leader of Sorts, Lone +Dog; but why not the Cow first? It's +an easier task, and better eating."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my Brothers, I see you have +never run the Kings of the Prairie. +While you were busy with the Cow, +what think you the Bull would be doing—brushing +his mane with a wet +tongue? His strong horns, stronger +than Wolf tusks, would be ripping your +ribs, and the weight of his huge forehead +would be breaking your backs—flat +as a fallen leaf he would crush you. +No, no; by my knowledge of these +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123" href="#Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +things, first the Bull—after, the Cow +will be easy."</p> + +<p>All this logic, sound though it +seemed, was born of A'tim's desire for +revenge upon old Shag for refusing to +be murdered.</p> + +<p>"Well, it is your Run and your Kill, +and to the Trailer the say of the Kill is +our Law," answered the Wolf; "lead us +to the eating, and make haste lest we +get too hungry."</p> + +<p>But A'tim had started ere the Wolf +had finished his implied threat. Nose +to ground, and tail almost as straight +as a true Wolf's, he raced through the +ghost forms of silent poplars, sheared +by the autumn winds of their gold-leaf +mantle. Over wooded upland, and +through lowland cradling the treacherous +muskeg, spruce-shielded and moss-bedded, +he followed the trail of old +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124" href="#Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +Shag and his Cow mate. Ever at his +flank, one on either side, sped the young +Wolves, and, lapping their quarters, +loped in easy stride their giant Sire. In +the Dog-Wolf's heart were revenge and +the prospect of much eating, and the +diplomacy that was to save his life.</p> + +<p>"This strange Run is surely from the +hand of Wie-sah-ke-chack," muttered +the Pack Leader; "and of the end I +have no knowledge, but, by the memory +of my long fast, there will be food +at the end of it for me and the Pups."</p> + +<p>Through a black cemetery of fire-killed +trees, the charred limbs cracking +harshly under their eager feet, they +swept. Suddenly the trail kinked +sharply to the right, and the Dog-Wolf, +swift-rushing, overshot it. "E-u-h! at +fault," he muttered. "Some trick of +the fool Cow's." Back and forth, back +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125" href="#Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +and forth like Setters the four Killers +scurried.</p> + +<p>"H-o-o-oh! here away!" cried +A'tim, picking it up; and on again +galloped the Gray Hunters.</p> + +<p>At Towatano Creek the trail went +into the air; at least it was no longer +of the earth. Straight to the south +bank it had led, but on the north there +was nothing; nothing but the hoot of +a frightened Arctic Owl that swirled off +into the forest because of their impetuous +blood cry.</p> + +<p>"They are not wet to their death," +cried the Wolf, "for here is little +water."</p> + +<p>It was as though the Bisons had +crawled into a cave, only there was no +burrow in sight—nothing. A'tim was +confused.</p> + +<p>"Surely thou art a Dog," cried the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126" href="#Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +Wolf disdainfully; "they have gone up +the water, or they have gone down the +water. This is no young Bull we follow, +for he has the wisdom which comes +with age; that, or this Cow has the +duplicity of a Mother guarding her +Calf."</p> + +<p>"I will search up, and do you seek +down," said A'tim.</p> + +<p>"Not so," replied the Wolf; "we +will stay here together while my Pups +pick up the trail, be it up or down."</p> + +<p>Very close to A'tim the huge Wolf +sat while his two Sons searched the opposite +bank for the coming out of Shag. +Soon a "Hi, yi—he, he, he-voh-ooh!" +came floating dismally up the tortuous +stretch of winding stream. "Come; +they have found it," said the Wolf.</p> + +<p>On again, faster and faster, flitted the +Gray Shadows in the waning of the day. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127" href="#Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +All vain had been the precautions of the +Cow; the twisting and doubling, and +walking in the water to kill the scent—all +in vain. Nothing would turn these +blood-thirsters from the trail.</p> + +<p>"Hurry a little," panted the Wolf +from behind. "Gallop, Lone Dog; +gallop, brave Pups; the scent grows +strong, and we need light for our +work."</p> + +<p>A'tim stretched his thin limbs in +eager chase; at his shoulder now raced +the Wolf Pups; the blood fever crept +stronger and stronger into the hot hearts +of the Gray Runners. Short yelps of +hungry exultation broke from their dry +throats; it was like the tolling of a +death bell; first one and then the other, +"Oo-oo-ooh-ooh!" The dry leaves +scurried under their feet, swirled up by +the wind from their rushing bodies. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128" href="#Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +Poplar bluff, and jack-pine knoll, +and spruce thicket, and open patch of +rosebush-matted plain flitted by like the +tide of a landscape through which an +express speeds.</p> + +<p>Why had this silly Cow and effete +old Bull traveled so far? A'tim wondered. +Would they never overtake +them?</p> + +<p>Suddenly a vibrating bellow echoed +through the forest and halted the Wolf +Runners.</p> + +<p>"It's the Bull!" cried A'tim +triumphantly. "Now, Brothers, we +shall feast. Have I not spoken the +truth?"</p> + +<p>On again sped the four Killers—the +four that were eager of blood; on +through the thicket, and with suddenness +out upon a plain that had been +fire-swept years before—a plain wide, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129" href="#Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +and void of poplar, or spruce, or cottonwood. +Only the grass plain, and on +the plain seven Buffalo; a waiting crescent +of seven huge heads lined in symmetrical +defense; a little in front old +Shag, and behind, shoulder to shoulder, +the others. With a cry of dismay, +A'tim stopped.</p> + +<p>"A trick—a trap!" yelped the Wolf.</p> + +<p>"I did not know of these," whined +A'tim; "but it is nothing. If we +charge boldly they will stampede."</p> + +<p>"They will fight," answered the Wolf. +"No charge will break a Wolf Pack, +and it will be that way with these, I +think."</p> + +<p>"The Buffalo are different," lied +A'tim. He knew better, but it was his +only hope. Well he knew that if there +were no attack his New Comrades would +surely eat him. In the battle many +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130" href="#Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +things might come to pass, his Dog wisdom +said; the Wolves might be killed, +or prodded full of a sufficiency of fight; +the Buffalo might stampede, being new +to Shag's leadership; or, when the combat +was heavy, he could steal away if he +saw it going against them. Also his desire +for revenge on Shag was a potent +factor.</p> + +<p>"They will surely break if we charge +with strength," he declared: "they are +Cows, having no Calves to guard, and +each will think only of her own safety +when she hears your fierce cry, Pack +Leader. I, who have lived upon Buffalo +in the South, know this. Why should +I say this, being also in the fight, if it +were not true. Come, Brothers, even +now they are afraid."</p> + +<p>The Buffalo Cows were stamping the +young-turfed prairie with nervous feet. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131" href="#Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +Shag was throwing clouds of dust over +his lowered head, and kinking his +tufted tail in battle anger.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he will fight," declared A'tim, +as Shag snorted and shook his head defiantly; +"he will fight, but that will +save much running, for we shall soon +bring him down."</p> + +<p>The Wolf Leader weighed the matter +with a gravity born of his long fast. +Certainly it appeared worth a battle. +If they could but make one Kill, what +a feast it would be! Never had he seen +Grass Feeders of this bulk. Why +should he and his Sons, who were +strong fighters, full of the Wolf cunning, +dread these Buffalo who had +nothing but horns for defense! No +fear of the fierce-cutting hoof thrust, +such as Mooswa gave! And he was +hungry. He looked at the Dog-Wolf +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132" href="#Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +with the eye of an epicure; what miserable +eating his thin carcass would make. +Much better this fight for a Buffalo.</p> + +<p>"We will charge," he said. "All +at the Bull!"</p> + +<p>With short, gasping yelps the three +Wolves and the Mongrel dashed at the +Herd. The crescent of horned heads +swayed a little irresolutely; but Shag, +wise old Leader, Leader of mighty +Herds, Patrician of a thousand kine, +who had stood against the fierce blizzard, +and the Foothill Wolves that +came down in mighty Packs seeking +the calves that were in his charge,—he +who had fought the young Bulls growing +into their strength, and kept them +in subjection until his horns were worn +to stubs and of no avail; whose heart, +once aroused, was strong, and knew not +of defeat until it came: this dauntless +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133" href="#Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +Monarch of the plain stood firm. What +were four Wolves to him! Let them +come.</p> + +<p>"This is a Leader!" said the six +Cows. "Surely here is no danger."</p> + +<p>"No danger," repeated Shag, hearing +their voices; "stand close and there is +no danger."</p> + +<p>"Oo-oo-oo-ah, wah, wah, wah!" +howled the Wolves and barked the +Dog-Wolf, as almost to the stockade +of heavy heads they rushed.</p> + +<p>"Circle, Brothers, circle," called the +big Wolf, as he swerved to the right, +seeking to turn the flank of the Cow +line. Like trained soldiers the Buffalo +crescent swung as the Wolves swung, +Shag always a little in front. With an +angry snarl the Leader dashed at the +Buffalo; his two Sons were at his +shoulder.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134" href="#Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> +<p>"The Bull! the Bull!" yelped +A'tim, crouching to steal under the giant +head, and lay him by the flank.</p> + +<p>Famine-braved, the Wolves fought +and snapped, and snarled the Kill cry. +Crazed beyond cowardice by the smell +of their own blood, the Cows fenced +and thrust, and stood one against the +other—the sharp horns ripped like skinning-knives.</p> + +<p>"Ee-e-yah! if I could but do it!" +snarled the great Wolf. Ah! he had +her—by the nose! Down to her +knees, dragged by the Wolf, came the +Cow that had turned Shag from the +Death Flower.</p> + +<p>"Yah, yah, yah!" snarled the Wolf +joyously through his set teeth, as the +Cow bellowed loud in her agony of +terror.</p> + +<p>Then something like the falling of a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135" href="#Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +great forest was heard, and the Buffalo +Bull descended upon the Big Wolf and +blotted him out from the light of the +world. It was not a question of horns +at all; it was simply a great weight +like an avalanche of rock crushing him +into the herbed plain. His grim jaws +relaxed their hold; from ears and nostrils +flowed his mighty strength in a red +stream.</p> + +<p>Even as Shag charged the Wolf, +A'tim had reached for the Cow's flank! +Ah! here was his chance. The Bull's +fat throat beckoned to him from within +easy reach. Wah, for his revenge! +E-e-uh, for the throat grip—the throat-cutting +hold!</p> + +<p>Eagerly, wide-jawed he sprang at the +Brother Outcast—and missed.</p> + +<p>The carnage had sent Shag's life +back a score of years; the battle heat +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136" href="#Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +warmed his old blood until it coursed +with the fire of fighting youth; he +was a young Bull again, full of the +glorious supple strength that had been +his as chief gladiator of all the prairie +arena: that was why A'tim fell short +as he reached for the death hold.</p> + +<p>With a deft twist Shag had the Dog-Wolf +pinned to the earth between the +worn old horns.</p> + +<p>"Now, traitor," he grunted.</p> + +<p>"Spare me," pleaded A'tim; "I, +who am not of your kind, slept by your +side, and guided you to this land where +you have a Herd. I was forced to this +by the Wolves—they threatened to eat +me. Spare me, Great Bull; I came to +warn you, but the Wolves followed fast."</p> + +<p>Shag hesitated. One crunch from his +broad forehead, one little push—so, and +the Dog-Wolf, who was A'tim, would— +</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 211px;"> +<a href="images/ill169.jpg" name="THOU_ART" id="THOU_ART"> +<img src="images/ill169tn.jpg" width="211" height="150" class="plain" alt=""THOU ART A TRAITOR, AND A GREAT LIAR," SAID THE BULL" title=""THOU ART A TRAITOR, AND A GREAT LIAR," SAID THE BULL" /> +</a> +<span class="caption">"THOU ART A TRAITOR, AND A GREAT LIAR," SAID THE BULL</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137" href="#Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> +<p>"Spare me, Shag—let me go," +pleaded the mongrel again; "I brought +you to this Herd—to this Northland +which is good. Were we not Outcast +Brothers together?"</p> + +<p>Again Shag hesitated. Why not? +Was he not a Buffalo Bull, a Leader of +Herds? Did his kind ever do aught +for revenge—kill except in defense of +their own lives? And was not this +Dog-Wolf lying helpless between his +horns beyond all chance of doing him +injury—this Mongrel that had been as +a Brother to him when they were Outcasts? +Also the Wolves were dead—trampled +into silence.</p> + +<p>"Thou art a traitor, and a great liar, +A'tim," said the Bull, rising, "but you +may go because you are an Outcast, and +because I also was one."</p> + +<p>And that was the beginning of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138" href="#Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +Herd of the Wood Buffalo, that are big +and strong and beautiful, in the spruce +forests of the Athabasca Lake.</p> + +<p><br /><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/ill172.jpg" width="250" height="182" alt="END" title="END" /> +</div> + +<p><br /><br /></p> + +<table border="1" cellpadding="10" summary=""> +<tr><td><b>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES</b> +<p>The word "everyting" has been retained on page 82.</p> +<p> +The punctuation was standardized in the caption "One after another they +hurtled into the slaughter-pen of the Blood Indians' corral."</p> +<p> +The punctuation and paragraphing were standardized on page 129.</p> +<p> +A table of contents was added to the HTML version.</p> +</td></tr></table> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Outcasts, by W. 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A. Fraser + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Outcasts + +Author: W. A. Fraser + +Illustrator: Arthur Heming + +Release Date: September 26, 2006 [EBook #19387] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTCASTS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzan Flanagan and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries) + + + + + + + + + +THE OUTCASTS + +[Illustration: SHAG CARRIED THE DOG-WOLF ON HIS BACK.] + + + + +THE +OUTCASTS + +BY W. A. FRASER + +ILLUSTRATED BY ARTHUR HEMING + +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS +NEW YORK ----- MDCCCCI + + + + +_Copyright, 1901, by_ +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + + + + +Illustrations + +_The full-page subjects from drawings by Arthur Heming. The +head- and tail-pieces from drawings by J. S. Gordon_ + + FACING + +Shag carried the Dog-wolf on his back Title + +"Lying on my back as though I were dead, I +held my tail straight up" 6 + +"I am no Wolf, Shag; I am A'tim, which +meaneth a Dog in the talk of the Crees" 10 + +One after another they hurtled into the +slaughter-pen of the Blood Indians' corral 36 + +Muskwa had A'tim in his long-clawed grasp 66 + +"Steady, Dog-Wolf, steady," admonished +Shag, "this is a friend of mine" 78 + +"Oh, don't mention it!" exclaimed the Wolf; +"no doubt we shall find something for +dinner, presently" 114 + +"Thou art a traitor, and a great liar," said +the Bull 136 + + + + +THE OUTCASTS + + + + +[Illustration] + +THE OUTCASTS + +CHAPTER ONE + + +A'tim the Outcast was half Wolf, half Huskie Dog. That meant +ferocity and bloodthirst on the one side, and knowledge of Man's +ways on the other. Also, that he was an Outcast; for neither side +of the house of his ancestry would have aught of him. + +A'tim was bred in the far Northland, where the Cree Indians trail +the white snow-waste with Train Dogs; and one time A'tim had +pressed an unwilling shoulder to a dog-collar. Now he was an +outcast vagabond on the southern prairie, close to the Montana +border-land. + +It was September; and all day A'tim had skulked in the willow +cover of Belly River flat-lands, close to the lodges of the Blood +Indians. + +Nothing to eat had come the way of the Dog-Wolf; only a little +knowledge of something that was to happen, for he had heard +things,--the voices of the Indians sitting in council had slipped +gently down the wind to his sharp Wolf ears. + +As he crawled up the river bank close to Belly Buttes and looked +across the plain, he could see the pink flush of eventide, like a +fairy veil, draping the cold blue mountains--the Rockies. + +"Good-night, warm Brother," he said, blinking at the setting sun; +"I wonder if you are going to sleep with an empty stomach, as +must A'tim." + +The soft-edged shafts of gold-yellow quivered tremblingly behind +the blue-gray mountains, as though Sol were laughing at the +address of the Outcast. The Dog-Wolf looked furtively over his +shoulder at the smoke-wreathed cones of the Blood tepees. The +odor of many flesh-pots tickled his nostrils until they quivered +in longing desire. Buh-h-h! but he was hungry! All his life he +had been hungry; only at long intervals had a gorge of much +eating fallen to his lot. + +"Good-night, warm Brother," he said again, turning stubbornly +from the scent of flesh, and eying the crimson flush where the +sun had set; "one more round of your trail and I shall sleep with +a full stomach, for to-morrow the Bloods make a big Kill--the Run +of many Buffalo." + +A'tim, sitting on his haunches, and holding his nose high in air +until his throat pipe drew straight and taut, sang: "O-o-o-o-o-h! +for the blood drinking! W-a-u-g-ha! the sweet new meat--hot to +the mouth!" + +The Indian Dogs caught up the cry of A'tim as it floated over the +Belly River and voiced it from a thousand throats. + +"The Blackfeet!" screamed Eagle Shoe, rushing from his tepee. +"It's only a hungry Wolf," he grunted, as he sat in the council +again; "let us talk of the Buffalo Run." + +That was what the Dog-Wolf had heard lying in the tangle of gray +willow, close to the tepee of Eagle Shoe, the Blood Indian; and +he would sleep peacefully, his hunger stayed by the morrow's +prospect. As he sat yawning toward the rose sky in the West, a +huge, dark form came majestically from a cleft in the buttes, and +stood outlined, a towering black mass. A'tim flattened to earth +as though he had been shot, looking not more than a tuft of +withered bunch-grass. Then he arose as suddenly, chuckled to +himself, and growled nervously: "Oh! but I got a start--it's only +old Shag, the Outcast Bull. Ha, ha! A'tim to fear a Buffalo! +Good-evening, Brother," he exclaimed; "you quite frightened me--I +thought it was that debased Long Knife, Camous." + +"Thought me Camous!" bellowed the Bull, snorting indignantly; +"he's but a slayer and a thief. All the Paleface Long Knives are +that; killing, killing--stealing, stealing. Why, even among his +own kind he is called 'Camous'; and you, who were bred in the Man +camps, know what that means." + +"Of course, of course--ha! most surely it means 'a stealer of +things.' But I meant not to liken you to him, Brother Shag--it +was only my fright; for even in my dreams I am always seeing the +terrible Camous. I have cause to remember him, Shag--it was this +way. Did I ever tell you?" + +"Never," answered Shag, heavily. + +[Illustration: "LYING ON MY BACK AS THOUGH I WERE DEAD, I HELD MY +TAIL STRAIGHT UP."] + +"Well, it was this way: Once upon a time, in the low hills they +call Cypress, I was stalking a herd of antelope. To tell you the +truth, I had been at it for two days. Waugh! but they were wary. +At last I worked within fair eyesight of them, and knowing the +stupid desire they have to look close at anything that may be +strange to them, I took to myself a clever plan. Lying on my back +as though I were dead, I held my tail straight up, and let the +wind blow it back and forth. The big-eyed Eaters-of-Grass asked +one another: 'What is this new thing? Is it a plant or an animal?' +That is the way they talked, I am sure, for they are like +wolf-pups, quite silly. Well, they came closer and closer and +closer. E-u-h-h, e-u-h-h! but my mouth watered with the thought +of their sweet meat as I lay as one dead. Now, they hadn't the +knowledge to work up wind to me, but came straight for the thing +they saw that moved. Would you believe it, just as I was +measuring from the corner of my eye the time for a strong rush, +who should creep over a hill but Camous! In fright I sprang to my +feet, and away went the Goat-faced small-prongs. Then the +deviltry of the many-breathed Fire-stick this Camous carries came +down upon me as I ran faster than I'd ever gone before. 'Click, +snap! click, snap!' the quick-breathing Fire-stick coughed; and +though I rocked, and jumped sideways and twisted, before I could +get away I had one of the breath-stings in my shoulder. E-u-h-h! +but I go lame from it still." + +Shag slipped a cud of sweet grass up his throat with a gurgling +cough and chewed it reflectively, for he was of a slow turn of +thought, not at all like the nimble-brained Dog-Wolf. Then he +swallowed the cud, blew from his nostrils the sand that had come +into them crossing the scant-garbed hills of Belly Buttes, and +said ponderously: "Yes, I know the many-breathed Fire-stick; +that's what makes the Palefaces so terrible. The plain simply +reeks with the dead bodies of my people whom they have slain." + +"And the bodies all poisoned, too; whur-r, whur-r! All turned +into death meat for the Flesh-feeders, Dog or Wolf," snarled +A'tim. "Killed for the hide--think of that, Shag!--or just the +tongue taken. If we make a kill it is for the eating--to still +the gnawing pain that comes to us, and we waste nothing, leave +nothing." + +"Most assuredly," replied the Bull, "thou leavest nothing but the +bones." + +"Nothing but the bones," concurred A'tim. "And as I was saying, +these Long Knives put the Flour of Death in the dead Buffalo, and +my Wolf Brethren, when they eat, being forced to of their hunger, +die like flies at Cold Time." + +"And a good thing, too--I mean--" and Shag coughed +apologetically; "I mean, as a Calf I received cause to remember +your Wolf Brothers, A'tim; there's a hollow in my thigh you could +bury your paw in, where one of your long-fanged Pack sought to +hamstring me. You, A'tim, who are half Wolf, know how it comes +that where one of your kind puts his teeth, the flesh, sooner or +later, melts away, and leaves but a hole--how is it, A'tim?" + +"Foul teeth," growled the Dog-Wolf. "They're a mean lot, are the +Gray Runners; even I, who am half of their kind, bear them no +love--have they not outcasted me because of my Dog blood? I am no +Wolf, Shag; I am A'tim, which meaneth 'a Dog,' in the talk of the +Crees." + +"Even so, Brother," said Shag, "how comes it that thou art a +half-breed Wolf at all?" + +[Illustration: "I AM NO WOLF, SHAG; I AM A'TIM, WHICH MEANETH A +DOG IN THE TALK OF THE CREES."] + +"That is also of Man's evil ways, Brother Bull--thinking to +change everything that was as it should be before he came. This +false mating is of his thought; to get the strength of the Wolf, +and the long-fasting of the Wolf, and the toughness of the Wolf, +into the kind of his Train-Dogs. And because of all this, I, who +am a Dog, am outcasted." + +"Well, we'll soon all be gone," sighed the Bull, plaintively; +"when I was a Smooth Horn, and in the full glory of my strength--" + +"Thou must have been of a great strength, Shag, for thou art the +biggest Bull from Belly Buttes to Old Man River--Waugh! Waugh! +that I can swear to." + +"In those days," continued Shag, taking a swinging lick at his +scraggy hide with his rough tongue, "in those days, when I was a +Smooth Horn, I led a Herd that caused the sweet-grass plain to +tremble like water when we galloped over it. We were as +locusts--that many; and when crossing a coulee I've turned with +pride on the opposite bank--I always went first--and, looking +back, saw the whole hollow just a waving mass of life. Such life, +too, Lone Dog; silk-coated Cows with Calf at knee; and Bulls +there were full many--because I tolerated them, of course--and +all strong and fat, and troubled by nothing but, perchance, in +the Cold Time a few days of the White Storm which covered our +food. But that did not matter much; we just drifted head on to +the harsh-edged blizzard, and lived on the thick fat of our +kidneys." + +"But the Redmen--the hairless-faced ones," interrupted Dog-Wolf; +"they killed many a Buffalo in the old days." + +"We could spare them," replied Shag; "their Deathshafts of wood +slew but a few. Like yourself, A'tim, they killed only when they +were hungry. It's the many-breathed Fire-stick of the Paleface +that has destroyed us, A'tim; but like you, Brother, I, who am +but an Outcast because of my great age, and because my horns have +become stubs, care not overmuch. Why should I lament over my own +people who have driven me forth--made of me an Outcast?" + +"There is to be a big Run to-morrow--a mighty Kill," said A'tim, +growing tired of the old Bull's reminiscent wail. + +"Where?" queried the other. + +"At Stone Hill Corral. Eagle Shoe says they will kill five +hundred head." + +"I know," sighed Shag--"at the Pound; I know that death-trap. +Half a Herd I lost there once through the conceit of a young Bull +hardly out of the Spike Horn age. Well I know the Pound--even the +old Indian of deep cunning who made it, Chief Poundmaker--that's +how he came by his name, A'tim. But, as I was saying, when I +tried to turn the Herd, knowing what was meant, this Calf Bull +led a part of them straight into the very trap. Served him right, +too; but the Cows! Ah, me! My poor people! Slaughtered, every one +of them; and so it will be again to-morrow--eh, A'tim? It's the +big Herd down in the good feeding they're after, I suppose." + +"Yes," answered A'tim; "to-morrow the whole Blood tribe, and +Camous the Paleface, who is but a squaw man, living in their +lodges, will make the Run." + +"I wish I could stampede the Buffalo to save them," sighed Shag; +"but my sides are sore from the insulting prods of the Spike +Horns. Not a Bull in the whole Herd, from Smooth Horns, who are +wise, down to Spike Horns, who are fools because of their youth, +but thinks it fair sport to drive at me if I go near. Surely I am +an Outcast--which seems to me a strange thing. When we come to +the knowledge age, having gained wisdom, we are driven forth." + +"No; you'd only get into trouble," declared A'tim decisively. +"We, who are Brothers because of our condition, will watch this +Run from afar. To-morrow, for once in my life, I shall have a +full stomach." + +"I am going back to the Buttes to sleep," declared Shag. + +"I will go also," said A'tim; "while you rest, I, who sleep with +one eye open, after the manner of my Wolf Brothers, will watch." + +In a little valley driven into the Buttes' side, where the grass +grew long because of deep snow in winter time, the big Buffalo +stopped, prospected the ground with his nose, flipped a sharp +stone from the couch with nimble lip, and knelt down gingerly, +for rheumatism had crept into his old bones; then with a tired +grunt of relaxation he rolled on his side, and blew a great +breath of sweet content through his nostrils. + +"A good bed," quoth A'tim. "I will share it with you, Brother; +close against your stomach for warmth." + +He took the three turns that had come to him of his Dog +heritage, and curled up contentedly against the great paunch of +the scarred Bull. + +"I can't sleep for thinking of the big Kill," murmured Shag. "My +poor Brothers and Sisters, also some of my own children, are in +that Herd, though they, too, have disowned and driven me forth." + +"There will be more sweet grass for your feeding when they are +gone, Shag," declared Dog-Wolf. + +"Ah, there's plenty of eating, such as it is; though the grass on +the prairie looks short and dry and harsh, yet it is sweet in the +cud. To you, who are but a Dog-Wolf, the eating comes first in +your thought, but with us it is the dread of hunters, who keep us +ever on the move." + +"I know of a land where it is not this way," asserted A'tim, +after a pause; "a beautiful land, with pea-vine knee-deep, and +grass the Men call blue-joint, that fair tops my back when I walk +through it. As for drink! why, one day in a single tramp I +crossed sixteen streams of beautiful running water." + +"Are you dreaming, A'tim?" asked Shag, touching the Dog-Wolf's +back with the battered point of his stub-horn. + +"No, Bull; and there are few hunters in that land, and few of +your kind; and shelter of forest against the White Storm; and +buttes and coulees everywhere." + +"An ideal Range," muttered the Bull; "is it far?" + +"Perhaps half a moon--perhaps a whole moon from here to there, +just as one's feet stand the trail." + +"You make me long for that great feeding," sighed Shag enviously. + +"Yes, you'd be better in the Northland, Shag," said the Dog-Wolf, +sleepily--"better there. Here you are an Outcast, even as I am." + +"Yes, after the big Kill to-morrow," sighed the Bull mournfully, +"I shall want to trail somewhere. Across Kootenay River is good +feeding-ground, but there the accursed Long Knives are filled +with the very devil of destruction, and kill even such as I am, +though my hide is not worth the lifting. I, who am an Outcast, +and have lost all pride, know this--I am worthless." + +The bubbling monotone of the old Bull had put A'tim to sleep. He +was giving vent to gasping snores and plaintive whimpers, and his +legs were twitching spasmodically; he was dreaming of the chase. +Shag turned his massive head and watched the nervous Dog-Wolf +with heavy, tired eyes. "He is chasing the reed-legged Antelope +now; or, perhaps, even in his sleep, Camous pursues him with the +many-breathed Fire-stick. Well, well, by my hump, but we all have +our troubles; even this Dog-Wolf, who is not half my age, has +lived into the hard winter of life." + +Then Shag rested his black-whiskered chin on the soft turf, his +tired eyelids, mange-shaved, drooped over the age-blurred eyes, +and these two Outcasts, so strangely mated, driven together by +adversity, slept in the coulee of Belly Buttes. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER TWO + + +A cold, weakling gray-light was touching with ghastly fresco the +Belly Buttes when A'tim stretched out his paw and scratched +impatiently at Shag's leather side. The Bull came back slowly out +of his heavy sleep. + +"Gently, Wolf Brother," he cried petulantly; "your claws are +wondrous strong, and my side has many sore spots--love scars from +my Brother Bulls." + +"You'll have worse than Bull scars if you don't wake up," +answered A'tim; "can't you hear something?" + +Shag tipped his massive head sideways with drowsy inquiry, the +heavy lids opening in unwilling laziness. A muffled, palpitating +beat was in the sulky morning air; it was like the monotonous +thump of a war drum over on the Reserve. + +"What is it?" queried the Bull, raising his head with full-aged +dignity. + +"Eagle Shoe's pinto is pounding the trail; the Run is on," +answered A'tim. + +Shag heaved his huge body to his knees wearily, struggled to his +feet with stiff-limbed action, and shook his gaunt sides. + +"You needn't do that," sneered A'tim; "not much grass sticks to +your coat now." + +"No, it's only force of habit," grunted Shag. "And to think of +the time when my beautiful hair was the envy of the whole range; +for I was a Silk-Coat, you know--a rare thing in Bulls, to be +sure. But I'm not that now; when I look in the lake waters and +see only this miserable ruff about my neck, and scant tuft on my +tail, I feel sad--feel ashamed. The tongue of the lake tells me +all that, Brother, so say no more about it." + +"Wait you here, Shag," commanded A'tim; "I will go up on a Butte +and see the method of these hunters; my eyes are younger than +yours, Herd Leader." + +When the Dog-Wolf returned he said: "Eagle Shoe is riding far to +the South; let us follow in the river flat and see this Run, for +it will be a mighty Kill. O-o-o-h! but I am empty--famished!" + +"Always of blood," muttered the Bull to himself--"always of blood +and meat eating; Wolf and Dog; Dog-Wolf and Man--always full of +the blood thought and the desire for a Kill." + +They could hear the thud of pony hoofs on the dry prairie's +hollow drum as they traveled, winding in and out the tangle of +willow bushes that followed the river. Then the hoof beats died +away, and A'tim said: "Now he has circled to the West--that means +something; let us go up and see." + +They stole up the old river bank to the brow of the uplands. A +mile off they could see Eagle Shoe standing beside his cayuse. As +they watched, the Blood Indian stooped, caught up a handful of +black earth-dust and threw it high in air. That was sign talk, +and told his comrades who were hiding on the prairie that he saw +many Buffalo--Buffalo many as the grains of sand cast to the +wind. + +Then he trailed his blanket behind him as he walked beside his +ewe-necked pinto, and two Indians stole stealthily from their +prairie cover like Coyotes, and followed Eagle Shoe. + +"Ah!" muttered Shag, as he and A'tim went forward slowly, "I +know. This Indian has the cunning of a whole Wolf-Pack; is that +not so, Brother? King Animals!" he exclaimed, in a great voice +like the low of the wind coming through a mountain gorge; "is +that not the Herd yonder, clear-eyed Dog-Wolf?" + +"By the chance of meat, it is--a mighty Herd, Shag; such a Herd +as the Caribou make in the Northland when they mate." + +"Now the Buffalo see Eagle Shoe," continued Shag; "but they have +no wisdom; they but see some one thing that has life. Perhaps +they will even say: 'It is only old Shag, the Outcast; let us +feed in peace.' Their eyes are the eyes of Calves, and their +noses tell them nothing, for the hunt Man is down Wind, is he +not, A'tim?" + +"Surely, Brother; even a _moneas_, a green hunter of a Paleface, +would know better than to send the flavor of his presence on the +Wind's back." + +"Yes, even so," continued Shag. "See how gently he moves toward +them. Danger! One Bull's head is up; he has discovered that it is +not a Buffalo; now he has whispered to the others, for they are +moving slowly. Thou hast spoken truth, A'tim--a strange thing for +a Dog-Wolf, too," he muttered to himself--"it _will_ be a mighty +Kill. How slowly the Herd moves; they are not afraid of the one +animal, whatever it is--one, did I say, A'tim? Look you, Brother, +for you have the Wolf-eyes: are there not three now--three Kill +drivers?" + +"Yes, three Indians," answered the Dog-Wolf. "The same old Hunt. +I've watched it many a time from behind the runners; I know every +trick of these slayers. Now the Run surely begins; let us close +up, Shag, for the hunters will have no eyes for such as us; their +hearts are full of the killing of many Buffalo. Also, there will +be much meat warm to a cold stomach to-night;" and he licked his +chops greedily. + +"I don't like it," muttered Shag; "the Palefaces, with their +many-breathed Fire-sticks, have killed my people, and have driven +them up from the South, and now they are gathered together in a +few mighty Herds such as this. The Redmen, who have not these +Fire-sticks, but have the cunning of Wolves, see all this, and +say they too must slay a whole Herd, where before they killed but +two or three. We'll soon be all gone--we, who are the meat food +of these Redmen, we'll soon be all gone, and then what will they +do, A'tim? Will they kill each other, as your people do when the +famine gets into their hearts? Or will they just lie down and +die, as my people do when the White Storm blots out all the grass +food?" + +"I do not know, Great Bull," answered A'tim. "To-night I shall be +full of much meat, perhaps even to-morrow; after that I know not +what may come with the warm trail of the sun." + +The Outcasts saw the two Indians ride into the eye of the Wind +that blew up from the South across the Herd. As a sudden squall +ripples a smooth lake, so the scent of the Redmen carried by the +prairie breeze stirred the sea of brown-backed Buffalo. + +"Now they will stampede," quoth Shag, eying this man[oe]uver with +heavy intentness. + +"Yes," answered A'tim, "and Eagle Shoe will lead your brethren to +their destruction. We will wait here till they have passed, then +we will follow." + +"Yonder is one of the bush wings leading to the slaughter-pen, +the Stone Hill Corral," cried Shag; "and on the far side will be +another, though we can't see it yet." + +"Yes," concurred A'tim, "I see it; they'll come closer and closer +together, these two run of bushes, and at the far end there will +be but a narrow trail like a coulee, and after that they drop +into Stone Hill Pit--the Buffalo Pound. I saw the Indians +building these trail-slides last night. It will be a great Run--a +mighty Kill!" + +"Yes," affirmed Shag, "we both know of this thing--we who are of +no account; it is only the Outcasts who have much wisdom, +seemingly. Behind the bushes hide the Indians, and no Buffalo +will break through because of them. On, on they'll gallop to the +death-pit, the Pound. Let us move up closer; my old blood tingles +with it, for I've been in many a Run." + +A'tim grinned like a Hyena. Already in his Wolf nostrils was the +visionary scent of blood, and much killing. That night he would +dip his lean jaws in the Kill of the Redmen. + +Eagle Shoe and the two Indians who had come up out of the level +plain like evil spirits were leading and driving their prey into +the wide jaws of the converging stockade. The Buffalo were +pressing on to destruction with increased pace, following with +blind stupidity the horseman who cantered in front of them. From +a lazy stroll they had quickened to a fast walk; a shuffling trot +had given place to an impatient lope. Calves were being hustled +to the center of the moving Herd by loving mothers. Head down, +and wisp-tail straight out, the brown bodies shifted from lope to +mad gallop. The Bulls snorted restlessly and called hoarse-voiced +to their consorts: "Speed fast, for something evil follows." + +The beaten earth groaned in hollow misery; the thrusting weight +of half a thousand head made its breast ache; its plaintive +protest grew into an angry roar like incessant thunder; the +dust, sharp-hoof-pounded, rose like a hot breath, and hung +foglike over the troubled sea of rocking bodies. + +Behind, the two horsemen, wide apart like fan points, galloped +with hard-set faces. Eagerly the ponies, bred to the Hunt, +stretched their limbs of steel-like toughness, and raced for the +brown cloud that fled as a broken regiment. + +Surely it was wondrous sport, as A'tim thought; surely it was +unholy slaughter, as the Outcast Bull muttered. + +Now the galloping brutes were well between the brush walls of the +ever-narrowing stockade. A Calf, speed-strangled, slipped from +the dust cloud and wandered aimlessly toward the galloping +horsemen; Grasshead's pony swerved as the Calf sprawled in his +path. + +On the Buffalo galloped; faster and faster rode Eagle Shoe. His +cayuse, the fleetest Buffalo horse of all the Blood tribe, +galloped with the full fear in his heart of the danger that was +behind. Low over his neck crouched Eagle Shoe; one false step--a +yawning badger hole, a swerve at a white rock, a falter, and +crunching hoofs would grind the Redskin to pulp. + +Wedge-shaped the Herd raced for the leading horseman; hindermost +labored the fatted bulls, but in front thundered the leader. + +With hawk eye, Eagle Shoe swept the stockade wall for the opening +through which he was to slip and let the Herd gallop on to their +destruction. Hi, yi! there it was. Sharp to the left, swinging +his body far out on the side to steady the careening cayuse, he +turned. As he shot through the opening two Indians rose up, and +their guns belched a red repulse in the faces of the Buffalo. + +On swept the Herd--on raced the pursuing Redskins, now joined +by Eagle Shoe. An Indian rose like a specter behind the bush +wall, and twanged a hoarse-singing arrow into the quivering flank +of the Herd that was as one Buffalo. His Hunt-Cry of joy, +fierce-voiced, was like the wail of an infant--the roar of the +troubled earth hushed it to nothing. + +Fear rode on the backs of the striding beasts, and they were +afraid; and in their hearts was only gallop, gallop, gallop; +there was no thought, nothing but frenzy; no thought of breaking +through the wing sides, flimsy as a deep shadow, for behind +twig-laced walls were strange demons possessed of the Man-Call, +the Kill-Cry. On, on, on! only in front was any opening; there +the prairie lay still and smiling. Wedge-like behind their Bull +Leader they thundered. To him the open prairie in front beckoned +and smiled a lie of safe passage; the Pound, the death-pit, dug +on its rounded breast, lay hushed in silent ambush, and the Bull +Leader saw only a narrow gate at the far end of the fast-closing +wings. Soon he would lead all this mighty Herd that had grown +into his charge past the walls that were alive with evil spirits, +and out to the prairie beyond. + +What could rise up in front and stay that mad rush of half a +thousand Buffalo? Nothing--nothing! and the Pound still lay +hushed--waiting. + +Behind the Bull, with implicit faith, pressed the Herd. Only a +short distance reached the dreaded yellow-leafed walls that hid +the Man enemy. In six breaths he would have passed the narrow +mouth, and all his heart's pride would stream out from that death +gauntlet to the broad Range that called to him. + +Even now he drew a sigh of relief; one more jump--oh, spirit of +sacred Buffalo! that yawning abyss! the frown of the Pound. He +braced his giant forelegs in the graveled earth on its very +brink. Too late! Behind, two hundred tons of impetuous fright +crashed against his guarding frame; the treacherous sod crumbled; +down, down, thirty feet sheer, over the cliff he shot: two, six, +a dozen, fifty! beyond all count, one after another, bellowing +Cow and screaming Calf, they hurtled into the slaughter-pen of +the Blood Indians' corral. + +[Illustration: ONE AFTER ANOTHER THEY HURTLED INTO THE +SLAUGHTER-PEN OF THE BLOOD INDIANS' CORRAL.] + +Inferno upon earth was born in an instant; up from the sun smile +of the prairie rose a shadow of fiends. The walls of the pit, +large as the Coliseum, were lined with Redskins of the murder +caste. Bow-strings twanged; dag-spears, long-handled, were driven +with vengeful swish into the bellowing mob of crazed Buffalo. A +sulphurous cloud of gun smoke settled over the pit. Of a verity +it was a carnival of demons. Surely it was a mighty Kill! Surely +it was a blood fresco on the beautiful earth. + +Some strong animals, not shattered in their fall, rushed about +the pit in erratic frenzy, like victims in a Roman arena. The +mocking walls rose on every side, grim, unsurmountable, and +thrust the captives back into the shambles; jagged flint +arrow-heads stung their hearts like angry serpents. Oh, blessed +quick death! better than the smother and trample that beat out +the lives of others, inch by inch. The gun fire belched hot in +their faces; the bellowing of Bulls almost hushed the Hunt-Cry of +the Redman. + +For an hour the full carnage lived; the joy of blood-shedding was +over the Indians; gray-aged warriors and lean-chested children, +all drank of the glory of slaughter. Skinning-knife in hand, the +Squaws waited for the tumult to subside that they might complete +the tragedy. + +At last no Buffalo chased hopelessly over the dead bodies of his +fellows, seeking a vain safety; all were stricken to their +death--not one had escaped. No bellowing was heard now; nothing +but the victory clamor of the rabble and the gasping choke of +dying Buffalo. Out on the prairie the silly Calf wandered like a +lost babe--the only survivor of a king-led Herd. + +Like butchers, the strong-backed Squaws leaped into the arena, +its stone floor slippery with blood, and stripped the bodies of +their victims. The Indians, their warrior pride holding them +aloof from this menial labor, sat and gloried in the mighty Kill. + +Shag and the Dog-Wolf had heard the din from afar. "They will not +poison the meat to-night," muttered A'tim, "and when they have +gorged themselves to sleep, I also shall feast, for it must have +been a great Kill." + +"It's dreadful!" lamented Shag; "it's dreadful! I can't eat--the +grass tastes of blood, for this Kill has been of my kind. It is +different with you, A'tim. I will sleep here in this near-by +coulee, and when you have feasted, Dog Brother, come back to me, +for I am sad and my heart is heavy; come back, A'tim, and sleep +warm against my side." + +Far into the night, by the light of dry willow fires, like +dancing ghouls, the Squaws cut and hacked and laid bare the bones +that had been joyous in much life at sunrise. + +Over the camp-fires, for long hours, the pots boiled and bubbled +with the cooking meat--the delicious Buffalo flesh that was meat +and bread to the Indians; and beside the glowing embers huge +joints spitted on sharp sticks sizzled and threw off a perfume +that came to the starved nostrils of A'tim, and almost crazed him +with eager hunger. + +Would the Indians never cease eating? he wondered. Close-crept, +he watched Eagle Shoe take a piece of the luscious "back +fat"--ah, well A'tim knew the loin!--and devour it greedily. How +like vultures these feeders were, A'tim thought. At least a dozen +times each Indian returned to the flesh-pots, the Dog-Wolf felt +sure. "They are like Wolves," he snarled; "well I know them. For +days and days they will live on nothing, even as a Wolf; then, +when the Kill is on, they will gorge until they are stupid. +E-u-h-ha! but when they become stupid from this feeding surely I +will also feast; wait, hunger-pain, wait just a little." + +A cold moon came up over the fog-lined prairie and looked down +wonderingly at the fierce barbecue. Sometimes the silent prairie, +silent as the Catacombs, would be startled by the exultant cry of +a blood-drunken feaster. It was a fierce joy the Kill had brought +to these Pagans. + +Half a thousand robes Eagle Shoe had tallied. "Waugh! Ugh! Ugh!" +he had grunted in sheer joy when the little willow wands which +marked the score had been counted before him. Surely they would +revel in things dear to the heart of an Indian when the robes +were carted to the Hudson Bay Store. The meat was feeling all +right in its way when the stomach was lean, but at the Fort, at +the time of giving up the robes--Waugh! God of the fallen +Indians! how they would revel in the fierce fire-water, the +glorious fire-water! Even the Squaws, useful at the skinning, +would also drink, and reel, and become lower than the animals +they had slain to bring about all this saturnalia. Why had his +forefathers fought against the Palefaces? Was not all this +civilized evil a good thing, after all? + +A cloud drifted a frown over the face of the cold moon, and A'tim +skulked closer and closer--almost to the very edge of the +slaughter-pit. The Indian Pack-Dogs snarled at his presence, and +yapped crabbedly. Other gray shadows, less venturesome than the +Dog-Wolf, flitted restlessly back and forth in the dim mist of +the silent plain. + +A'tim sneered to himself maliciously. "To-day is the Kill of the +Buffalo," he muttered; "to-morrow you, my Gray Brothers, will +give up your lives because of the Death Powder. There will be +meat enough for the poisoning; feast to-night, for to-morrow you +die, and your pelts will go with those of the Dead Grass-Eaters. +If you had not outcasted me, I, who know of this thing, would +save you; but to-morrow I shall be far away and care not." + +Would the Indians never gorge themselves to sleep? Eagle Shoe's +voice was hushed; one by one the feasters stretched themselves +upon the silent grass, and slumbered with a heaviness of full +content. When the last Squaw, weary of the blood toil, curled +beneath her blanket, A'tim crept to the meat piles. All the +energy of his rested stomach urged him to the feasting; there was +no stint. + +Surely no Swift-runner, Dog or Wolf, ever had such a choosing. +The Pack-Dogs kept the Wolves at bay, but with A'tim was the +scent of their own kind, the Dog scent. He was not an utter +stranger to them, only an Outcast; they tolerated him as a beggar +at the meat store of which they had more than enough. + +At last the hunger pain was all gone. Once in his Train-Dog days +he had looted a cache of White Fish, and eaten until he could eat +no more; it was like that now. Then, with a Dog thought for the +morrow, he stole four huge pieces of choice meat, and cached them +in the little coulee where waited Shag. + +"Ah! you've come back, Brother," said the Bull, as A'tim crept +complacently to his side. "I was afraid something might have +happened to you, for hunger often carries us into unknown +danger." + +"E-u-h-h! but it was a mighty Kill, Shag. Such flesh I've never +tasted--never--tasted--" He was asleep. + +"I wonder what makes the moon red," muttered Shag, drowsily, as +he, too, nodded off to sleep. + +Then again the two Outcasts, the one for whom the blood horror +had colored the moon red, and the other with a new joy of meat +fullness, slumbered together in the little coulee by the Buffalo +Pound. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER THREE + + +Shag was the first to awaken; the night's banquet caused the +morning to come slowly to A'tim. + +The pulling cut of Shag's heavy jaws on the crisp grass awoke the +Dog-Wolf. He yawned heavily, and eyed the old Bull with sleepy +indifference. Ghur-h-h-h! what a plaintive figure the aged +Buffalo was, to be sure. + +"Good-morning, Brother," whuffed Shag, his mouth full of grass; +"where are you going?" + +"I _cached_ a piece of the new meat here last night," answered +A'tim, as he nosed under an overhanging cut-bank. "Forest +thieves!" he ejaculated angrily; "the Gray Stealers of Things +have taken it." His _cache_ was as bare as Mother Hubbard's +cupboard--not even a bone; there was nothing but the reddened +stones where the meat had lain, and a foul odor of Wolf. +Impetuously he rushed to the second _cache_; it, too, was void of +all meat; the third _cache_ held nothing but the footprints of +his gray half-brothers, the Wolf Thieves. + +Despair crept into the heart of A'tim; what use to explore the +fourth _cache_? The meat would be gone of a certainty. Why had he +slept so soundly? Why had he hidden the meat at all? Oh! but he +_was_ stupid; as silly as a calf Musk Ox. + +And the other meat up at the Pound, such as was left, would be +full of Death Powder, put there for the Gray Runners. How he +hoped they might eat it all--the thieves! It seemed such +unnecessary looting, too, to steal his food when there was so +much at the Pound; it was like the persecution that had kept him +an Outcast from the Wolf Pack. + +"There is nothing meaner in the world than a Wolf," he muttered; +"nothing; and already I am hungry again." + +At his fourth _cache_ he scratched indifferently. But the long +nails of his paw touched something soft and yielding--it was +flesh. How had it escaped the Gray Stealers? + +"See, Shag," he said, bringing his joint close to the Bull, and +laying it down lovingly, "last night I laid in a grub stake, as +my old Master would say, that would have landed me in fair +condition in the Northland. Those accursed Wolves, of whose kind +I am not, being a Dog, have stolen it--all but this piece. It was +out of consideration for you, my friend, knowing your dread of +the blood smell, that made me _cache_ it a little apart. How I +wish I had lain on it--made my bed on its soft, sweet sides. Such +meat I have not eaten for many a day." + +"I'm sorry," lamented Shag; "it's too bad. Here is nothing but +sorrow for every one. See how still and quiet the old Range is; +only those slayers of Redmen up by the Pound. Years ago, A'tim, +perhaps when you were a Pup, all this prairie that is so +beautiful with its short Buffalo grass, was just covered with +people of my kind; and Antelope--though they were not of our +kind, still we liked to see them--there was no harm in them, +being, like ourselves, Grass Feeders; and to the South-West, +Dog-Wolf----" + +"I am no Wolf," interrupted A'tim, thinking of his stolen meat; +"I am a Dog!" + +"Well, well, Dog, to the South-West--from here we can even see +Chief Mountain where is that land--there were beautiful +big-horned Elk, also Grass Feeders, and of a sweet temper." + +"I know," ejaculated A'tim, licking at his flesh food; "in the +North it was just the same with the Caribou, the whole land alive +with them--and Mooswa, too." + +"But now, A'tim, since the coming of the Palefaces we are +slaughtered by them and by the Redmen. L-o-u-g-h--h-o-o! I shall +leave this old Range to-day forever; my heart is sad." + +"Come with me, then, Brother," cried A'tim; "together we will go +to the land of which I have spoken. It is a long, lone trail for +one. I will guard you well, for I know Man's ways; and at night +we will rest side by side." + +"I will go," said the Bull simply. + +"Let us start," cried A'tim, seizing his joint of Buffalo meat, +and sweeping the horizon with suspicious eyes. + +"Your eating is heavy," said Shag; "I will carry it for you on my +horns. L-o-u-g-h--h-u! the blood smells terrible!" he exclaimed +as A'tim pulled the buffalo flesh over Shag's forehead. + +Then the two Outcasts took up the long trail toward the +Northland, where in a woof of sage green and bracken gold was +woven a scheme of flesh-colored Castillejia, and wine-tinted +moose-weed, and purple pea-flower; where was the golden shimmer +of Gaillardia and slender star-leafed sunflower; the pencil stalk +of blue-joint, and the tasseled top of luscious pony-grass: a +veritable promised land for the old Bull, buffeted of his +fellows, and finding the short grass of the Southland stubbornly +hard against his worn teeth. + +There, too, was Wapoos, the Hare so easily caught in the years of +plenty, and A'tim need never feel the pangs of a collapsing +stomach. There also were Marten, and Grouse, and Pheasant, and +Kit Beaver, and other animals sweet against the tongue. Surely +the Dog-Wolf had lingered too long in that barren Southern +country, where there was only the rat-faced Gopher, who was but +a mouthful; with, perhaps, the chance of a Buffalo Calf caught +away from the Herd. Even that chance was gone now, for man was +killing them all off. Yes, it was well that they should trail to +the Northland, each said to the other. + +For days they plodded over the prairie, cobwebbed into deep ruts +by Buffalo trails leading from grassland to water. + +It was on the third day that A'tim said to the Buffalo Bull: "I +am thirsty, Shag; my throat is hot with the dust. Know you of +sweet drinking near--even with your sense of the hidden drinking +you can find it, Great Bull, can you not?" + +"This hollow trail leads to water, most assuredly," answered +Shag, stepping leisurely into a path that was like an old plow +furrow in a hay meadow. "Even this shows how many were my people +once." The Buffalo sighed. "Within sight are more trails like +this than you have toes to your feet, Dog-Wolf--this whole mighty +Range from here to the Uplands, which is the home of the White +Storm, is so marked with the trails of my people; and now there +are only these Water Runs to remind us of them." + +Soon they came to a little lake blue with the mirrored sky, its +mud banks white as though with driven snow. "The bitter water +mark," said Shag, as his heavy hoof sank through the white crust +on the dark mud. + +"I know," answered A'tim--"alkali, that's what Man calls it." + +"Let us rest here this night--close to the drinking," commanded +Shag; "to-morrow we will go forward again." + +That night A'tim ate the last of the Buffalo meat Shag had packed +on his horns for him. The next day they trailed again toward the +Northland. + +When they came to a river that was to be forded Shag carried the +Dog-Wolf on his back; when there was presence of danger, a +suspicious horseman, Shag curled up like a boulder, or crouched +in a coulee, and if the Man came too near A'tim led him away on a +hopeless chase. Daily the Dog-Wolf grew into the heart of Shag, +the Buffalo, who listened with eager delight to his tales of the +Northland. + +A'tim had fared well while the meat lasted; but they were now in +a land of much hunger--a land almost devoid of life; and the +Dog-Wolf was coming again into the chronic state of his +existence--famine. + +As they trailed Northward the grass grew richer and softer and +more luscious; Shag commenced to put on fat. But daily the +Dog-Wolf grew hungrier and thinner. In the vast solitude, walled +on every side by the never-ending sky from which the stars peeped +at night and the sun smiled by day, there was little for the +Dog-Wolf, who was a flesh-eater. Scarce anything but Gophers; not +an Antelope, nor a Mule Deer, nor a Black Tail had they seen for +days. Once a Kit Fox, the small, gray kind of the prairie, waited +tantalizingly with his nozzle flat on the turf, seemingly asleep, +until A'tim was within two jumps, then he slipped nonchalantly +into his burrow as though he had just been called to dinner. A +froth of disappointed rage wreathed the hungry lips of the +Dog-Wolf. Surely he was in danger of starvation. + +For two days he lived on a single Mole, unearthed quite by +chance; then a Gopher, stalked from behind the big legs of Shag, +saved him from utter collapse. Of a verity he was living from +hand to mouth; such abject poverty he had never known, not even +in the Southland by the Blood Reserve. + +"Carry me, Brother," he said to the Bull, "for I am weak like a +new Pup. If I could but see a Trapper's shack or a camp," he +confided to Shag, as he clung to the Bull's hump, "I might find +something to eat--Ghur-r-r! a piece of the Pork Eating, or a +half-picked bone, or a Duck killed by the Fire-stick! Even one of +my own kind, a Dog, would I eat, I'm that famished--Great Bull, +is that not a shack?" he exclaimed suddenly as a square building +loomed on the horizon. + +"I think I see it," said the Bull; "but my eyes are no longer +good at a great distance." + +As they journeyed toward the object Shag suddenly stopped and +gave a loud bubbling guffaw. + +"What are you laughing at, Bull?" demanded A'tim angrily. + +"I, who am an Outcast because of my great age, Dog-Wolf, am even +now a great Fool; and so art thou, A'tim, an Outcast and a Fool." + +"Your wit is like yourself, Shag, heavy and not too pleasing. +Pray, why am I a Fool!" + +"That is no shack," answered the Bull; "it is but a rock; +there's a line of them, like a trail of teepees, for miles, +stretching for the length of many a day's march, running as +straight as the cough of a Fire-stick, all looking like that one. +Wie-sah-ke-chack, who is God of the Animals, put them there for +the Buffalo to brush their hides against--a most wise act." + +With a weary sigh A'tim turned his eyes from the deceitful rock, +and watched furtively for the chance of even a small Kill as they +journeyed. + +Day by day Shag was eating of the richer grass and becoming of a +great corpulency. Envious thoughts commenced to creep into the +mind of A'tim. Why should he starve and become a skeleton, while +this hulking Bull, to whom he was acting as a friend and guide, +waxed fat in the land that was of his finding? Many times Shag +carried the Dog-Wolf on his back, and at night the heat of his +great body kept A'tim warm. + +But the vicious envy that was in the Wolf mind of A'tim started +a line of proper villainy. Let the Bull grow fat. If the worst +came to the worst--if no other meat was to be had--when the +Frogs, and Moles, and such Waterfowl as might be surprised had +failed, and his very life depended on food, would not there be +much eating off the body of this Bull Buffalo? Therefore let him +wax fat. At first A'tim only thought of it just a little--a +flash-light of evil, like the sting of a serpent; but daily it +grew stronger. What was Shag to him? He was not of his kind. If, +when they came to the Northland, to the forests of the Athabasca, +the Wapoos were in the year of plague, and all other animals had +fled the boundaries because of this, and there was no food to +be had, why should he not feast for days and days off the +Buffalo?--that is, if anything happened to Shag. Something might +happen to him very easily. A'tim knew of many muskegs where a +stupid, heavy-footed Bull might be mired; also, there was the +poison plant, the Death Flower of the Monkshood. He could +persuade the stupid Shag to eat of it, and in an hour the Bull +would die--puffed up like a Cow's udder; it would not hurt the +flesh. Eu-h-h! there were many ways. Shag's company was good--he +was weary of being alone; it was dreadful to be an Outcast; but +rather than starve to death--well, he would eat his friend. + +What matter to him the ever-increasing beauty of the landscape, +the richer growth that appealed strongly to his companion from +the bare Southern plain? The wild rose bushes, red-berried in the +autumn of their fruitage, caressed their ankles as they passed; +pink and white berries clung to silver-leafed Buffalo willow +like rose-tinted snowflakes; hazel and wild cherry and gentle +maple swayed in the prairie wind, and sent fluttering leaf-kisses +to the parent earth. Great patches of feed-land waved silver gray +with a tasseled spread of seeding grasses. Oh! but they were +coming into a land of much growth. Shag the Bull lowed in soft +content as he rested full-bellied on the black-loamed prairie. +All the time A'tim was but thinking of something to kill, +something to eat. + +That was as they came to Egg Lake. + +"Trail slowly, kind Brother," admonished the Dog-Wolf. "It is now +the season of many Ducks here, even at Egg Lake; perchance in the +reed grass yonder, by the willows, I may stalk a Wavey, or even a +Goose." Ghur-r-r! but he was hungry! + +A'tim stole on in front; flat to the grass his belly, and low his +head. As silently as floating foam on still water he passed into +the thicket of reed grass, his fierce eyes fixed on four Mallard +that gabbled and dove their supple heads to the mud bottom for +wild rice. Only a little farther and A'tim would be upon them. +Shag was watching solicitously the stalk of his friend. + +Suddenly, and without provocation, the lake seemed to stand up +on end and commence throwing things about. The Bull was +startled--what did it all mean? Gradually something huge and +black began to take shape and form from amidst the whirl of many +moving things. + +"A Bear!" gasped Shag. "By the strength of my neck he means to +devour A'tim!" + +With a rushing charge Shag was upon the fighters--only just in +time, for Muskwa had A'tim in his long-clawed grasp, and in +another instant would have crushed his Dog ribs. And in the +succession of surprises one came to Muskwa with vivid suddenness, +for he was lifted on a pair of strong horns, like a Cub, and +thrown with great speed far out into the thin waters of the lake. + +"Thanks, Great Bull," panted the frightened Dog-Wolf, creeping +painfully from the thick sedge grass. "He also was after the +ducks, I think; I walked right on top of him, I was that busy +with my hunt." + +"If I had not been in such a blundering hurry," lamented Shag, "I +might have saved him for your eating; but he's gone now." + +And so they journeyed till they came to Battle River. There +A'tim caught three frogs among the blossom-topped leeks; they +were no more than three small oysters to a hungry man. + +"The water is deep and the banks steep," grunted Shag, looking +dubiously at the stream. + +"Lower down is a ford," answered A'tim; "we will cross there." +For when Shag swam in deep water the Dog-Wolf found it difficult +to keep on his back. + +"A teepee!" exclaimed A'tim, as they came close to the crossing. + +"Let us go back and swim the river," pleaded Shag; "there will be +hunters within the lodge." + +"No, wait you here," commanded A'tim; "there will surely be food +in the teepee, and I mean to have it." + +[Illustration: MUSKWA HAD A'TIM IN HIS LONG-CLAWED GRASP.] + +"Be careful," warned Shag; "this is a land of scarcity, and the +hunters may bring us evil." + +But already A'tim was skulking toward a small canvas tent, +gleaming white beside the blue waters of Battle River. The Bull +lay down to conceal his great bulk, and watched apprehensively +the foray of his pillaging comrade. A'tim circled until he was +down wind from the teepee. + +"The Man is not in his burrow," he muttered, sniffing the air +that floated from the tent to his sensitive nostrils; "but I +smell the brown Pork Meat they eat." + +Cautiously, stealthily, burying his brown-gray body in the river +grass, he stole to the very tent pegs of the canvas shelter; +there he listened, as still and silent as the river stones. There +was no sound within; no living thing even drew breath beyond the +cotton wall--he could have heard that. + +In through the flap he slipped. Yes, his scouting had been +perfect. A pair of blankets, an iron fry-pan, and--ah! there was +the rich brown meat, its white edge gleaming a welcome. With a +famished snarl A'tim fastened his lean jaws upon it, and sprang +for the door. He was none too quick. "Thud, thudety-thud, +thudety-thudety-thud!" a horseman was hammering down the sloping +bank across the ford. + +As A'tim leaped from the tent the horseman shouted and drove big +rowel spurs hard up the flank of his galloping Cayuse. + +"Just my evil chance!" snarled A'tim as he headed for Shag; "but +what is a small piece of Bacon compared with a big Buffalo?" For +into his quick Wolf brain came the safety thought that should the +pursuing hunter sight Shag he would follow, and let the bacon +go. + +As the Man galloped he unslung a gun, and fired at the fleeing +Dog-Wolf. A little sputter of dust drove into the nostrils of +A'tim as a trade ball spat in his face and buried itself in front +of him. There was no second shot; only the "thudety-thud" of the +Pony's hoofs. The pursuer was armed with a muzzle-loading trade +musket. + +The shot startled Shag. Now he could see them rushing his way; +soon they would be upon him. With a bellow of frightened rage at +the stupidity of A'tim, he stuck his scraggy tail out with its +tip curled over his back, and broke into a solemn gallop. + +In an instant the hunter swerved from his course and raced for +the Bull, loading his gun as the Cayuse swung along under a free +rein. Shag chuckled softly as he spread his great quarters, and +hung his nose closer to earth. + +"It's a down trail for miles," he muttered, "and I, who in my +prime have outrun the fastest Buffalo Horses of the Bloods and +Blackfeet, can surely show that lean-flanked Pack Animal a long +trail. Mou-o-o-h! but already I feel in my veins the strength of +this rich feeding." And the huge form slipped down the gentle +grade of sloping plain like an express train. Once the hunter +threw the butt of his musket to shoulder and fired; but half the +powder charge had spilled in the restless loading, and the trade +ball wandered aimlessly yards wide of the fleeing Bull. Shag +grunted and kinked his tail derisively as the spirit of old times +threw its glamor over him. It was years since he had been +thought worthy of the chase; surely he was becoming of some +account in the Buffalo world again. + +A'tim, sitting on his haunches, watched the departing cavalcade, +and industriously absorbed much of the fat pork. "I can carry it +better in my stomach," he reasoned philosophically. "But who +would have thought old Shag had it in him?" he muttered in +admiration. + +As he gazed, the extent of territory between Shag and his pursuer +widened perceptibly. The overworked Pony was tired; no doubt his +rider had trailed for many a league with him, and he was in no +condition for the fierce gallop of a Buffalo Run. + +A'tim finished the bacon with undoubted relish, then struck out +across the boundless field of grass. "I must not lose sight of +Shag," he thought; "there will not always be bacon for the +stealing when I am on the edge of starvation." + +At last the Pony was pulled to a walk, turned about, and headed +for the teepee that nestled on the river bank. The rider was +indulging in much injudicious vituperation of all the animal +kingdom, including his own well-blown Cayuse, whose trembling +flanks vouched for the energy with which he had tried to overhaul +the galloping Bull. + +A'tim circled wide, and, when he considered it safe, fell into +Shag's trail and followed on. Soon he overtook his comrade. "Well +done, my big Bull!" he exclaimed; "that was a rare turn you did +me." + +"It was," answered Shag shortly; "hardly of my own choosing, +though; you thrust it upon me. I suppose you were bringing me +the bacon, kind Brother?" + +"I knew you could do it," flattered A'tim. "You have the full +speed of a Spike Horn, and the great wisdom of your own age." + +Shag said nothing; he was angry at the selfish heartlessness of +the other Outcast. It seemed hardly a fair recognition of the +service he had rendered the Dog-Wolf when he prodded the Bear +from his throat. + +"Come, let us be moving," he said; "we must find another +crossing." + +"Oh! but I feel years younger," cried A'tim joyfully, as they +headed again for Battle River. "Euh-euh-euh-euh! Yap-yap-yap!" he +laughed; "this eating has put the joyousness of a Pup into my +heart." + +That night they crossed the river at another ford, and slept in a +bluff of slim-bodied white poplars, for they were on the edge of +the North timber lands. + +"This is good cover," muttered A'tim, as he raked the yellow +heart-shaped leaves of the poplar together for a bed. + +"It's new to me," muttered Shag; "and it will also give cover to +one's enemies; one must be very cautious in the Northland, I +think." + +Then the two Outcasts slept together on the border of the North +fairyland to which the Dog-Wolf was leading Shag the Bull. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER FOUR + + +In the morning A'tim had for his breakfast a wistful remembrance +of the yesterday's eating--that was all; while Shag made a frugal +meal off the bronzed grass, fast curing on its stem for the +winter forage. + +"There'll be good eating here for the Grass Feeders," he said, +grinding leisurely at the wild hay. + +"Indeed there will," answered the Dog-Wolf. "The Grass Feeders +will wax fat for the benefit of the Meat Eaters. I wish one would +come my way now," he sighed hungrily. + +"We are almost half way," continued A'tim, as he trotted beside +the long-striding Bull. + +"I'm glad of that, Brother. My foot joints are not so well oiled +as they once were, and are getting hot and dry. Strange that we +should not see some of our cousins, is it not, Dog-Wolf?" + +"I saw one yesterday," replied A'tim. + +"Aye, Brother, and he saw you, too." + +"Else I had eaten him," added the Dog-Wolf. + +"A Coyote?" asked Shag incredulously; "eat a Coyote? Impossible! +No animal ever ate a Coyote!" + +"No animal was ever so hungry as I was yesterday before +Wie-sah-ke led me to the Fat Bacon." + +"It's terribly dreary," said Shag, returning again to his first +thought; "no Elk, no Antelope, no Buffalo, no Indian Cayuse. Why +is it? Has Man killed them all off, as he has done with my +people?" + +"Yes, Man, and the Man-fire. From the black that is underneath +this new grass I know that last year the Man-fire swept over this +land faster and straighter than a Wolf Pack gallops----" + +Suddenly he broke off and made a fierce rush into the prairie. A +brown Cow-Bird flew up and lighted on Shag's horn. The Dog-Wolf +rose on his hind legs and snapped viciously at the Bird. + +"Steady, Dog-Wolf, steady," admonished Shag, "this is a friend of +mine. Do you not know the Cow-Bird, who is always with the Herd?" + +"Who is your friend?" asked the Cow-Bird of Shag. "Queer company +you keep, Great Bull; a Herd Leader leading a Wolf is new to me." + +"I'm no Wolf, Scavenger!" retorted A'tim. "I'm a Dog; I'll crack +your----" + +"Perhaps, perhaps," retorted the Cow-Bird. + +"Perhaps what?" snarled A'tim. + +"Perhaps you're a Dog, and perhaps you will crack my--neck, you +were going to say. Are you leading the Bull to your Wolf Pack, +perhaps--Dog?" + +"Never mind, Comrades," interrupted Shag. "We are glad of your +company, little Cow-Bird--are we not, A'tim?" + +"Yes," answered the Dog-Wolf, licking his chops, and looking +treacherously from the corner of his slit eyes at the Bird. + +"Where are you going, Great Bull?" asked the Cow-Bird, spreading +his deep-brown wings mockingly, as though he would fly down on +the Dog-Wolf's head. + +"To the Northland." + +[Illustration: "STEADY, DOG-WOLF, STEADY," ADMONISHED SHAG, +"THIS IS A FRIEND OF MINE."] + +"I know," quoth the Bird; "but I stick to the plains; why, I +don't know, for there are few Buffalo now. This summer I made a +long trip. I started in at Edmonton with a Herd of the Man's +Buffalo." + +"I've seen them," said Shag; "great clumsy things without shape +or make; as big behind as they are in front; of a verity the +shape of their own carts." + +"Well," continued the Bird, "there was a matter of a dozen of +these creatures tied to a four-wheeled cart, and I followed the +Herd through to the place they call Fort Garry. But I got tired +of it--day after day the same thing. What I like is to fly about. +Now, I'll travel with you to-day, just for companionship, and +to-morrow I shall be off with some new friend." + +"Perhaps," mumbled the Wolf. + +"Did you speak, Wolf?" perked the Bird. + +"I said, 'Good riddance,'" snapped A'tim. + +"He, he, he!" laughed the Cow-Bird; "your friend is pleasant +company, Great Bull." + +That night the two Outcasts and the Cow-Bird camped together, +near the Saskatchewan River; the brown body curled up contentedly +on Shag's horn, while the Dog-Wolf slept against his paunch. + +In the morning the Cow-Bird was gone. + +"Have you seen him?" Shag asked of A'tim. + +"He flew away early," answered the Dog-Wolf. + +"He should have taken all his coat with him," answered Shag, +thrusting from his mouth a bunch of grass in which were three +brown feathers. + +"He flew far away," affirmed A'tim sheepishly. + +"The length of your gullet, Dog-Wolf," declared Shag. "Thou must +be wondrous hungry to eat one of our own party--a cannibal." + +A'tim answered nothing as they journeyed down along the steep, +heavily wooded river bank, its soft shale sides slid into mighty +terraces, but in his heart was a murder thought, as he eyed the +great bulk of his Brother Outcast, that he would also eat him. + +They passed over the broad Saskatchewan, running emerald green +between its high, pink-earthed banks, through a long, tortuous +ford, taking Shag to the belly and half way up his ribs. As they +topped the north bank and rested after the steep climb, A'tim +pointed his nose to a distant flat where nestled the white +stockaded fort of the Hudson's Bay Company. + +"That's Fort Edmonton," he said bitterly; "and see the cluster of +teepees all about, thick as Muskrat lodges in a muskeg. Because +of the dwellers within there is no eating to be had here for me. +Cree Indians, and Half-breeds, and Palefaces, all searching the +country for something to kill; and when they have slaughtered the +Beaver, and Marten, and Foxes, and everyting else that has +life, they bring the pelts there and get fire-water, which burns +their stomachs and sets their brains on fire. An honest hunter +like myself, who only kills to stay the hunger that is bred in +him, has no chance; we must sneak and steal, or die." + +"But there will be much waste of the Bacon Food there, surely, +A'tim. Why do you not replenish the stomach that is but a curse +to you, being empty, at the lodges we see?" + +"No, friend Bull," answered the Dog-Wolf; "unwittingly enough I +nearly caused you disaster the last time I fed at Man's expense. +That time there was but one hunter; here are many, and they would +slay you quick enough." + +This was all a lie; the Dog-Wolf had no such consideration for +his Brother Outcast. At the Fort were fierce-fanged hounds that +would run him to earth of a certainty should he venture near; +either that, or if caught he would be quickly clapped into a Dog +Train, and made to push against a collar. Many a weary day of +that he had in his youth; he would rather starve as a vagabond. +Also, would he not perhaps fall heir to the eating that was on +the body of the huge Bull? + +"No, Brother," he said decisively; "we shall soon come to a land +with food for both of us; let us go." + +Toward the Athabasca they journeyed. The prairie was almost done +with, only patches of it now like fields; poplar and willow and +birch growing everywhere; and beyond the Sturgeon River, tiny +forests of gnarled, stunted jack-pine, creeping wearily from a +soft carpet of silver and emerald moss which lay thick upon the +white sand hills. Little red berries, like blood stars, peeped at +them from the setting of silk lace moss--wintergreen berries, and +grouse berries, and lowbush cranberries, all blushing a furious +red. + +"I could sleep here forever," muttered Shag, as he rolled in +luxurious content on this forest rug. + +"I can't sleep because of my hunger pains," snarled A'tim. "You +who are well fed care not how I fare." A'tim was petulantly +unreasonable. + +Shag looked at the Dog-Wolf wonderingly. "I'm sorry for you, for +your hunger, Dog Brother. Did I not call lovingly to a Moose Calf +but to-day, thinking to entice him your way?" + +"Yes, and frightened the big-nosed, spindle-legged suckling with +your gruff voice, so that what should have been an easy stalk +turned out a long chase for nothing." + +"Well, well," responded Shag soothingly, "no doubt you will soon +have food--this can't go on forever, this barrenness of the +woods; I'm sorry for you, for once I had nothing to eat for days +and days. That was ten seasons of the Calf-gathering since--I +remember it well. The White Storm came in the early Cold Time, +and buried the whole Range to the depth of my belly. We Buffalo +did nothing but drift, drift, drift--like locusts, or dust before +the wind. We always go head-on to a storm, for our heads are warm +clothed with much hair, but when it lasts for days and days we +grow weary, and just drift looking for food, for grass. I +remember, at Pot Hole, which is a deep coulee, and has always +been a great shelter to us in such times, on one side was some +grass still bare of the White Storm; but the Buffalo were so many +they ate it as locusts might--quicker than I tell it. As I have +said, Dog-Wolf, I lived for a month off the fat that was in my +loins about the kidneys, for I had never a bite to eat. Then the +fat, aye, even the red meat, commenced to melt from my hump and +my neck, even to my legs, and I grew weak--so weak I could +hardly crawl. Many of us died; first the Cow Mothers, giving up +their lives for the Calves, A'tim; then the old people; we who +were in the middle of life (for I was a Smooth Horn then, +Brother, and Leader of the Herd) lived through this terrible +time. + +"It was a great weeding out of the Herd; it was like the sweep of +the fire breath that bares the prairie only to make the grass +come up stronger and sweeter again. Longingly we waited for our +friend, the gentle Chinook, to come up out of the Southwest; but +this time it must have got lost in the mountains, for only the +South wind, which is always cold, or a blizzard breath from the +Northwest blew across the bleak, white-covered Buffalo land. + +"One night, just as I thought I must surely die before morning, a +sweet moisture came into my nostrils, and I knew that our Wind +Brother, the Chinook, had found us at last. The sun smiled at us +in the morning and warmed the white cover, and by night we could +see the grass; next day the White Storm was all gone. So, Brother +Outcast, I too, know what it is to be hungry. Have a strong +heart--food will be sent." + +"Sent!" snapped A'tim crabbedly; "who will send it? Will my Gray +Half-Brothers, who are Wolves, send it--come and lay a dead +Caribou at my feet? Will the Train Dogs, of whose kind I am, come +and feed me with White Fish--the dried Fish their drivers give +them so sparingly?" + +"I cannot say, Dog-Wolf; but surely food does not come of one's +own thinking. The grass does not grow because of me, but for me. +The Animals all say it is our God, Wie-sah-ke-chack, who sends +the eating." + +"E-u-h-h!" yawned A'tim sulkily, swinging his head in petulant +irritation, "I must have meat, no matter where it comes from; I +can't starve." There was a covert threat in the Dog-Wolf's voice, +but Shag did not notice it--his mind was above that sort of +thing. + +In the evening, as they entered a little thicket of dogberry +bushes growing in low land, a small brown shadow flitted across +their path. With a snarl A'tim was after it, crushing through the +long, dry, spike-like grass in hot pursuit. Shag waited. + +Back and forth, up and down, in and out, double and twist, +sometimes near and sometimes far, but always with the "Ghur-r-r!" +of the Dog-Wolf's breath coming to Shag's ears, the shadow and +its pursuer chased. Suddenly Shag started as a plaintive squeak +died away in a harsh growl of exultation. + +"He has him," muttered Shag; "this will stay the clamor of his +hunger talk, I hope." + +The well-blown Dog-Wolf came back carrying a Hare. "Hardly worth +the trouble," he said disdainfully, laying the fluffy figure down +at Shag's feet. "Now I know of a surety why the Flesh Feeders +have fled the Boundaries; it is the Plague Year of Wapoos. This +thing that should be fat, and of tender juiciness, is but a skin +full of bones; there are even the plague lumps in his throat. +There is almost as much poison in this carrion as in a Trapper's +bait; but I must eat of it, for I am wondrous hungry." + +"I, also, have eaten bad food in my time," said Shag; "great +pains in the stomach I've had from it. Some seasons the White +Storm would come early in the Cold Time, and cover the grass not +yet fully ripened into seed. It would hold warm because of this, +and grow again, and become green; then the white cover would go, +and the grass would freeze and become sour to the tongue. +Mou-u-ah! but all through the Cold Time I would have great pains. +How far do we go now, A'tim, till we rest in the Northland?" + +"Till there is food for both of us." + +"Quite true," concurred Shag. "We must go on until you also have +food, my friend." + +It was coming up the bank out of La Biche River that A'tim, +perfectly mad with hunger, made a vicious snap at the Bull's leg, +just above the hock, meaning to hamstring him. Shag flipped about +and faced the Dog Wolf. + +"What is this, A'tim?" he demanded, lowering his horns and +stamping in vexed restlessness. + +"A big fly of the Bull-Dog kind. I snapped at him, and in my +eagerness grazed your leg." + +Shag tossed his huge head unbelievingly, and snorted through his +dilated nostrils. "There are no Bull-Dogs now, A'tim; they were +killed off days since by the white-striped Hornets." + +"There was one, Shag--at least I thought so, Great Bull." + +"Well, don't think again--just that way. Once bitten is twice shy +with me; and, as you see, I carry the Tribe mark of your +Wolf-kind in my thigh since the time I was a Calf." + +"Ghur-r-r! Of the Wolf-kind, quite true, Great Bull--that is +their way; but I, who am no Wolf, but a Dog, do not seek to +hamstring my friends." + +The Bull answered nothing, but as they journeyed watched his +companion carefully. + +"Dreadfully foolish!" mused A'tim. "I must coax this stupid Bull +into a muskeg; his big carcass will keep me alive through all the +Cold Time." + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER FIVE + + +They were now well within the treacherous muskeg lands which +border the Athabasca; and that very night, while Shag slumbered +in the deep sleep of a full age, A'tim, whose lean stomach tugged +at his eyelids and kept them open, stole off into the forest, and +searched by the strong light of the moon for a bog that would +mire his comrade to death. + +An open piece of swamp land, fringed by tamarack and slim-bodied +spruce, promised fair for his scheme. Back and forth, back and +forth over its cushion of deep moss he passed, seeking for a +treacherous place--a place wherein Shag would sink to the belly; +where the sand-mud would grasp his legs like soft chains and hold +him to his death, but not engulf the body--that must remain for +A'tim's eating. + +"Euh-h! the very thing!" he exclaimed joyously, as his foot sank +deep in soft slime. "Yes, indeed, the very spot. Now must I cover +up its black mud so that the blurred eyes of old Shag will see +only a fair trail, not over ankle-deep." + +For an hour he labored with rare villainy, carrying bunches of +moss to cover up the black ooze, that was not more than twenty +feet broad; even small willow wands and coarse rush grass he +placed under the moss, so that he himself, light-footed as a cat, +might cross ahead of the unsuspicious Bull, and lure him to his +death. "There," he said finally, as he sat on his haunches and +rested for a minute, looking like a ghoul in the ghostly +moonlight, "I think that's a trick worthy of my Wolf cunning." +Then he hastened back to the other Outcast. + +Shag was awake and heard the Dog-Wolf creep to his side. "Where +have you been, A'tim?" he asked sleepily. + +"I heard a strange noise in the forest, and thought perhaps some +evil Hunter had followed your big trail; fearing for your safety, +Brother, I went to see what it was." + +"And?" queried Shag. + +"It was nothing--nothing but a Lynx or some prowling animal." +Shag was already snoring heavily again, and the Dog-Wolf, tired +by his exertion, also soon slumbered. + +Next morning A'tim was in rare good humor. "We shall only have +another day or two of this weary tramp," he said, "for the air is +full of the perfume of living things; also things that are dead, +for yonder, high in the air, float three Birds of the Vulture +kind. I shall be in the land of much eating to-day or to-morrow, +I know." + +"I am glad of that," answered Shag heartily; "I am tired of this +long tramp--my bones ache from it." + +Talking almost incessantly to distract the other's attention, +A'tim led the way straight for his muskeg trap. + +"There is some lovely blue-joint grass on the other side of this +beautiful little plain," he said as they came to the tamarack +border of the swamp. + +"Is it safe crossing?" asked Shag. + +"Quite safe," answered the Dog-Wolf; "there is not a mud spot to +be seen--you will scarce wet a shin. I will go ahead and warn you +should it so happen that there be a soft hole; follow close in my +track." + +"Lough-hu! lough-hu!" grunted the Bull at the first step in the +muskeg, as his foot cushioned in the deep moss: "this is like +walking on the White Storm." Ere he could take another step a +startled, "Mouah! Mouah!" struck on his ear. It was the call of +his own kind; and whipping about in an instant, he saw, staring +at him from the tamarack fringe, a Buffalo Cow. + +Where had she come from? It was the God of Chance that had sent +her to save the unsuspicious, noble old Bull, only he did not +know that--how could he? "Perhaps she is an Outcast like myself," +he muttered, advancing eagerly to caress her forehead with his +tongue. + +"Come back, Shag," called the Dog-Wolf, seeing the destruction of +his plan; "come back to the sweet feeding; that is but a +disgraced Cow, outcasted from some Herd." + +Startled by the bark of the Dog-Wolf, or perhaps by the ungainly +garb of the hairless, manged Bull, the Cow turned and fled. +Excited into activity, Shag galloped after her, his huge feet +making the forest echo with the crack of smashing timber as he +slid through the bush like an avalanche; but the Cow was swift of +foot, and pig-jinked around stumps and over timber, and down +coulees and up hills until Shag was fairly blown and forced to +give up the pursuit. + +"Was there ever such a queer happening?" exclaimed Shag, staring +after the vanished figure of the Cow. A'tim had followed with +eager gallop, inwardly reviling the ill luck which had snatched +from him the mighty Kill of the fat Bull. The Cow Buffalo was, +perhaps, only one of those spirit animals that prowl at night and +utter strange cries. + +Also had they galloped miles past the muskeg trap, and A'tim +dared not take the Bull back; some new plan must be devised for +his destruction. + +"Where did she come from?" puffed Shag, his froth-covered tongue +lolling from between big, thick lips; "where did she come from, +A'tim, you who know the Northland forests?" + +"She's a Wood Buffalo," answered the Dog-Wolf. + +"What's a Wood Buffalo?" asked Shag. + +"They are even as yourself, Great Bull; driven from the plains by +the many-breathed Fire-stick, they have come to this good Range +of the Northland. They go not in Herds, but few together, as +Mooswa and others of the forest." + +"Why did she run away, Brother A'tim?" grunted Shag, lying down +to rest. + +The Dog-Wolf laughed disagreeably. "That is but the way of the +Cow kind," he answered. + +"No," said Shag decisively; "she was frightened." + +"She was," assented A'tim; "Ghur-r-r! I should say so." + +"At what?" asked Shag. + +"Forgive me, Brother, but most assuredly she was frightened by +you." + +"By me--am I not of her kind?" + +"Yes, but how should she know? Are you like a Buffalo, Shag? Your +hide is bare and scarred, and perhaps she took you for some evil +thing." + +Shag looked ruefully at his great, scraggy sides, so like an +Elephant's, only more disreputable, and sighed resignedly; "I +suppose I can't help it," he muttered. + +"You can, Shag; if you will but eat of the Fur Flower it will +cure this evil disease which is in your blood, and bring back the +beautiful silk coat that was the envy of the Buffalo Range." + +"Do you speak the truth, Dog-Wolf?" asked Shag. + +"Most surely. All the Dwellers in the Northland know that. Are +not all the Forest-Dwellers full-haired?" + +"And this Fur Flower, A'tim; where is it?" + +"Less than a day's trail," answered the Dog-Wolf. + +"Find it for me, kind Brother," begged the Bull. "When one +frightens those of his own kind it is time to try something." + +As they plodded through the forest, A'tim muttered: "Now I shall +surely have this vain old Bull. The Death Coulee is close to +Porcupine Water, and that is not far. Shag shall eat of the Death +Flower, which I have called the Fur Flower, to improve his +appearance; and when he is dead I will eat of him to improve +mine." + +A three hours' tramp and they came to a little valley rich in +bright yellow grass, topped by a stately plant that nodded and +rustled in the wind as its many seed pods swayed like strings of +dark pearls. It was the Monkshood, the deadly aconite, which, +when the summer was young, hung its helmet flower in a shimmering +veil of blue over the sweet grass of the Death Valley--the valley +known of all animals as the Coulee of the Long Rest, for he who +browsed there found his limbs bound in the steel cords of death. + +"There," said A'tim, nodding his head at the bronze gold of the +many Monkshood, "there is the Fur Flower. It will be dry eating +now, being of a season's age, but in the early feed-time it is +sweet and tender. While you eat of it I shall rest here." + +A strong rustling of grass almost at their heels caused the +Dog-Wolf to spring to his feet in alarm. + +"Eu-h-h, eu-h-h! here is the accursed Cow again. Where in the +name of Forest Fools have you come from--why do you follow us?" +exclaimed A'tim. + +"It is the way of my kind," she replied, "to follow a Herd +Leader; there is no harm in that." + +Into the big, sleepy eyes of Shag crept a pleased look. + +"Where go you, Great Bull?" she asked. + +"To eat of this Fur Flower my kind Brother, A'tim, has told me +will bring back my coat; a soft, silky coat it was, too." + +"Eat of that--that which is the Death Grass growing in the Valley +of the Long Rest! You must wish to die; our Herd Leader, who was +even of your size, Great Bull, ate of it, and died like a +stricken Calf." + +"What is this?" demanded Shag, his big, honest eyes turned on +A'tim with a wondering look of unbelief. + +"A lie," quoth A'tim; "the Cow is full of a stupid duplicity: +perhaps she even killed this Herd Leader by some trick, and +blames it on the innocent Fur Flower. Does it look like a poison +herb, Wise Bull? Is it like the scraggy Loco Plant of the South +Ranges? Has it not the beautiful blossom of a good herb? Would +Wie-sah-ke-chack, who is wise, put such a tempting coat on a +death plant?" + +Shag looked puzzled. Why should A'tim wish him to eat of a Death +Flower; and yet, there was the graze of the Wolf's fang on his +thigh that time they came up out of La Biche River. That surely +had the full flavor of treachery about it. His ponderous mind +worked slowly over the tortuous puzzle. + +"I am a stranger here," he said, "and know little of these herbs, +but this Dog-Wolf, who is also an Outcast like myself, has +trailed from the Southland with me, and we have been even as +Brothers. Thinking perhaps that my rough coat was not so fine as +it once was, I listened to the speech of this Dog-Wolf to the end +that this blue-flowered herb will cause the soft, beautiful hair +to grow again." + +"It is the Death Flower," declared the Cow with sententious +persistence; "and this Outcast Wolf is a traitor, for if he is +from the Northland he also knows that, even as in the Southland +they know the Loco Plant." + +A'tim slunk back nervously and watched Shag with wary caution. + +"Do you believe this lie, Shag, my dear Friend? Ghur-r-r-ah! do +you think I would do such a thing? This lone Cow, who is also an +Outcast because of some wrong thing, must be locoed (mad)--even +as every Herd has one such." + +"I am wise enough not to eat of the Death Flower, by the +knowledge of our kind. But you can prove all this, Herd +Leader--let the Dog-Wolf eat of this medicine plant, if it be +harmless." + +This clever idea pleased the Bull mightily. "Yes, A'tim," he +cried; "the Cow, who is but a Buffalo, and, of course, has not +the great Wolf wisdom, may be mistaken. You who are an eater of +grasses when you are ill, eat of this Fur Flower, as you name it; +then also I will eat in great faith--after a little," he added in +an undertone. + +A'tim walked backward a few paces hesitatingly, and, looking +wondrous hurt, said in a deprecating voice: "Ghur-r-rh, eu-h-h! I +have been a friend to you, Lone Bull, even a Brother in solitude; +and now at the word of a stranger, a silly Cow, who having done +some wrong has been outcasted from her Herd, you lose faith in +me, and treat me as a traitor." + +Still farther into the tangle of birch and poplar he backed, +saying: "Of course, I couldn't expect you to take my part against +a sleek-hided Buffalo Cow." + +With a sudden spring he turned, and barked derisively as he loped +through the forest: "Good-by, bald-hided old Bull; I will bring +harm to you because of this." + +"I think you were just in time," said Shag to the Cow; "that +Dog-Wolf meant my death." + +Then Shag learned from the Buffalo Cow that she was one of a Herd +of six, and that the Herd was not very far away; that they were +unguarded because of the loss of their Leader through the Death +Flower, even as she had said. Willingly Shag went with her, +making many protestations as to his disreputable appearance, and +the unfitness of his well-worn stub-horns to battle for them; but +he went. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER SIX + + +A'tim slunk through the forest, his lean body filled with nothing +but the rage of disappointed appetite. "I'm starving!" he gasped; +"Starving! I must have something to eat. By the feast that is in +a dead Buffalo! if that evil-minded Cow had also eaten of the +Death Flower when her Bull did, as she says, I should now be +closer friend than ever with old Shag--Shag, the Fool." + +A large dead cottonwood, rotted to the heart till its flesh was +like red earth mould, lay across his path like an unburied +Redskin. "Should be Grub Worms here," muttered A'tim, sniffing +at the moss shroud which clothed the tree corpse. In famine haste +he tore with strong claws at the crumbling mass. One, two, three +large Grubs, full of a white fat, twisted and squirmed at their +rude awakening; the Dog-Wolf swallowed them greedily. "Eu-h-h! +Hi, yi! Such a tiny morsel," he whined plaintively; "they but +give life to the famine pains which were all but dead through +starvation. Wait, you, fool Bull--I'll crack your ribs with my +strong teeth yet! But small as the Grubs are there should be +more." + +With swift diligence A'tim excavated, grumblingly, until his +gaunt form was half buried in the hole. + +Three Gray Shadows were creeping in stealthy silence upon his +flank; owing to his anxious work A'tim was oblivious to the +approaching trouble. + +"E-e-yah!" and quick as a slipping sound that fluttered his ear +A'tim was up on the dead cottonwood, only to find himself peering +into the lurid eyes of a huge Wolf. + +Like war stars, four other balls of light gleamed at him from a +close crescent. The Outcast was clever. Surely this was a case +for diplomacy; he had no desire to feed three hungry Wolves with +his thin carcass. + +"You startled me, Brothers," he said, grinning nervously. + +"I did not mean to," replied the Pack Leader; "my foot slipped on +a wet leaf." + +"Ye-e-s--just so," hesitated A'tim in deprecating voice; "so +fortunate--I mean--Brothers, I'm sorry I can't offer you good +eating--there were only three Grubs----" + +"Oh, don't mention it!" exclaimed the Wolf; "no doubt we shall +find something for dinner presently--don't you think so, +children?" he asked, turning to the others. + +"I was going to say," recommenced the Outcast, "that I could not +ask you to eat just here, but I was actually on my way to invite +you to a big feeding." + +The Timber Wolf bared his fangs in a grin of derisive unbelief. +His comrades blinked at one another solemnly. "Was there ever +such a liar?" + +A'tim coughed nervously and continued his politic address. "I +heard your powerful bay, Pack Leader, hours ago, as I was +attending to a little trailing matter I had on hand, and resolved +to invite you to the Kill when I had located the trailed one." + +[Illustration: "OH, DON'T MENTION IT!" EXCLAIMED THE WOLF; "NO +DOUBT WE SHALL FIND SOMETHING FOR DINNER PRESENTLY."] + +"That's good news," answered the Wolf, "for we are wondrous +hungry," and he edged closer to the Outcast. + +A'tim shrank into a very small parcel on the log. "I, too, +have been sick for the need of food. I have starved, actually +starved, for a moon; why, I am nothing but skin and bone; the +smallest creature, even a weasel, would find it difficult to +fill his stomach from my lean ribs. Besides, I have eaten off a +plague-stricken Rabbit but a day since, and my blood is on +fire--though there's not much of it, to be sure. I'm filled with +the accursed plague poison--I believe there's enough of it in my +poor, thin body to bring to their death a whole Wolf Pack." + +"That's serious!" exclaimed the Gray Wolf; "but you'd die anyway, +so it doesn't matter--I mean, never mind about that just now. +Gh-u-r-r-h! what of this great kill?" + +"Well, Brother Wolves----" + +"Brother _Wolves_?" questioned the other with a sneer-tinge in +his gruff voice; "thou art overthick in the shoulder for a Wolf." + +"I never saw ears like yours on a Wolf, Newcomer," said one of +the youngsters; "they are short and round like those of the +Huskie Dog we ate. Is not that so?" he asked, turning to the +Leader. + +"Yes, indeed; we ate him, I'm ashamed to say--for Dog meat is +horrible--but what is one to do when there's naught else in the +Boundaries?" + +A'tim shuddered; their merciless eyes gleamed with the ferocity +of famine. Neither his strength nor his speed, which had so +often stood him in good stead, would avail him this time; nothing +but his half-breed duplicity--Wolf cunning and Dog wisdom. + +"But I _am_ a Wolf," he reiterated; "else why should I seek your +company at my Kill?" + +"We were easily found," sneered the Wolf; "we did not take much +calling, did we? Knowing your desire for our fellowship, we kept +you not waiting--E-a-ah, Lone Dog? But where hunts the Pack that +carry their tails curled over their backs like Train Dogs?" + +"It's because of my nervousness--you startled me," pleaded A'tim; +"also my seat is narrow." + +"And the big, round feet, Lone Dog? They leave not a Wolf track. +And you're broad in the loin, and heavy in the jowl, and short +in the leg--a Dog, a Hermit Dog, by the knowledge that has come +to me of age." + +"I'm a Wolf from the Southland," maintained A'tim. "We shape +different there. Our meat is the flesh of Buffalo, and our Kill +is because of strength, and not speed--therefore we are of a +strong build. You are of the Northland; swift as the wind, and +long running, Great Wolf--you and your beautiful Sons--yet was I +eager for your company at this Kill, which has taken me days to +arrange." + +"Buh-h, buh-ha! his great Kill! and here is the killer slaying +fierce, white Wood Grubs--but never mind; what of the Kill, Lone +Dog?" + +"What say you to a Buffalo--a fat, young Bull?" asked A'tim, +heaving a sigh of relief; "would not that be a dinner fit for a +great Pack Leader, like yourself?" + +"A Buffalo?" queried the Wolf incredulously. "I have heard of +such in these forests, but I come from the North, and have never +seen them--have we, Sons?" + +"Never," they answered, closing in on A'tim. + +"Even to-day I trailed one, and was on my way to ask you to the +Kill, as is the way of the Wolf kind. I am no Dog, to kill and +eat in secret." + +"It's truly noble to feed your friends," declared the Wolf. He +snapped viciously at A'tim's throat with fang-lined jaws. The +Dog-Wolf jumped back nervously. + +"Wait, Brothers," he pleaded; "you do not believe me, I see--let +us go together, and if I do not show you this Buffalo, waiting +for the Kill, then--" + +"Yes, then--" sneered the Wolf; "if you fail to show us this +Buffalo, then--" He grinned diabolically in A'tim's face. + +"E-e-u-h, I know," exclaimed the Dog-Wolf, stepping down gingerly +from the log. "You may keep close; I will show you that I have +spoken no lie." + +Together, one Wolf on either side of A'tim and one behind, they +glided along his back trail till they came to the scene of his +caustic farewell to Shag. Suddenly the Pack Leader stopped, +buried his nose in a hoof hole and sniffed with discriminating +intentness. + +"If-if-if-fh-h! By my scent, 'tis not Mooswa--nor Caribou. What +say you, sons? Perhaps it is the Buffalo of which the Lone Dog +speaks. Phew-yi, hi! Another trail call. Here are two of these +big-footed creatures, be they Buffalo, or what--you spoke of but +one, Lone Dog; Wolves do not tackle a Herd." + +"Only a silly Cow," answered A'tim. "She will flee at the first +blood cry." + +The big Wolf softened a trifle. Surely here was prospect of a +mighty Kill. There would be much flesh feeding and blood drinking +till they were gorged. And the Lone Dog would keep. When the +Buffalo were eaten, then--He look grimly at A'tim's attenuated +form. "Not much to tempt one after the sweet meat of a Grass +Feeder," he muttered disconsolately. "How shall we make the Kill, +Lone Dog?" he asked. + +"When we have trailed them down watch till they feed apart and +stampede the Cow with a fierce rush full of much cry; then all on +the Bull--two in front, to put them at bay, and two behind with +sharp teeth for the hamstring. That will lay him helpless as a +new Calf." + +"Thou art a Leader of Sorts, Lone Dog; but why not the Cow first? +It's an easier task, and better eating." + +"Ah, my Brothers, I see you have never run the Kings of the +Prairie. While you were busy with the Cow, what think you the +Bull would be doing--brushing his mane with a wet tongue? His +strong horns, stronger than Wolf tusks, would be ripping your +ribs, and the weight of his huge forehead would be breaking your +backs--flat as a fallen leaf he would crush you. No, no; by my +knowledge of these things, first the Bull--after, the Cow will +be easy." + +All this logic, sound though it seemed, was born of A'tim's +desire for revenge upon old Shag for refusing to be murdered. + +"Well, it is your Run and your Kill, and to the Trailer the say +of the Kill is our Law," answered the Wolf; "lead us to the +eating, and make haste lest we get too hungry." + +But A'tim had started ere the Wolf had finished his implied +threat. Nose to ground, and tail almost as straight as a true +Wolf's, he raced through the ghost forms of silent poplars, +sheared by the autumn winds of their gold-leaf mantle. Over +wooded upland, and through lowland cradling the treacherous +muskeg, spruce-shielded and moss-bedded, he followed the trail of +old Shag and his Cow mate. Ever at his flank, one on either +side, sped the young Wolves, and, lapping their quarters, loped +in easy stride their giant Sire. In the Dog-Wolf's heart were +revenge and the prospect of much eating, and the diplomacy that +was to save his life. + +"This strange Run is surely from the hand of Wie-sah-ke-chack," +muttered the Pack Leader; "and of the end I have no knowledge, +but, by the memory of my long fast, there will be food at the end +of it for me and the Pups." + +Through a black cemetery of fire-killed trees, the charred limbs +cracking harshly under their eager feet, they swept. Suddenly +the trail kinked sharply to the right, and the Dog-Wolf, +swift-rushing, overshot it. "E-u-h! at fault," he muttered. "Some +trick of the fool Cow's." Back and forth, back and forth like +Setters the four Killers scurried. + +"H-o-o-oh! here away!" cried A'tim, picking it up; and on again +galloped the Gray Hunters. + +At Towatano Creek the trail went into the air; at least it was no +longer of the earth. Straight to the south bank it had led, but +on the north there was nothing; nothing but the hoot of a +frightened Arctic Owl that swirled off into the forest because of +their impetuous blood cry. + +"They are not wet to their death," cried the Wolf, "for here is +little water." + +It was as though the Bisons had crawled into a cave, only there +was no burrow in sight--nothing. A'tim was confused. + +"Surely thou art a Dog," cried the Wolf disdainfully; "they have +gone up the water, or they have gone down the water. This is no +young Bull we follow, for he has the wisdom which comes with age; +that, or this Cow has the duplicity of a Mother guarding her +Calf." + +"I will search up, and do you seek down," said A'tim. + +"Not so," replied the Wolf; "we will stay here together while my +Pups pick up the trail, be it up or down." + +Very close to A'tim the huge Wolf sat while his two Sons searched +the opposite bank for the coming out of Shag. Soon a "Hi, +yi--he, he, he-voh-ooh!" came floating dismally up the tortuous +stretch of winding stream. "Come; they have found it," said the +Wolf. + +On again, faster and faster, flitted the Gray Shadows in the +waning of the day. All vain had been the precautions of the Cow; +the twisting and doubling, and walking in the water to kill the +scent--all in vain. Nothing would turn these blood-thirsters from +the trail. + +"Hurry a little," panted the Wolf from behind. "Gallop, Lone Dog; +gallop, brave Pups; the scent grows strong, and we need light for +our work." + +A'tim stretched his thin limbs in eager chase; at his shoulder +now raced the Wolf Pups; the blood fever crept stronger and +stronger into the hot hearts of the Gray Runners. Short yelps +of hungry exultation broke from their dry throats; it was like +the tolling of a death bell; first one and then the other, +"Oo-oo-ooh-ooh!" The dry leaves scurried under their feet, +swirled up by the wind from their rushing bodies. Poplar bluff, +and jack-pine knoll, and spruce thicket, and open patch of +rosebush-matted plain flitted by like the tide of a landscape +through which an express speeds. + +Why had this silly Cow and effete old Bull traveled so far? A'tim +wondered. Would they never overtake them? + +Suddenly a vibrating bellow echoed through the forest and halted +the Wolf Runners. + +"It's the Bull!" cried A'tim triumphantly. "Now, Brothers, we +shall feast. Have I not spoken the truth?" + +On again sped the four Killers--the four that were eager of +blood; on through the thicket, and with suddenness out upon a +plain that had been fire-swept years before--a plain wide, and +void of poplar, or spruce, or cottonwood. Only the grass plain, +and on the plain seven Buffalo; a waiting crescent of seven huge +heads lined in symmetrical defense; a little in front old Shag, +and behind, shoulder to shoulder, the others. With a cry of +dismay, A'tim stopped. + +"A trick--a trap!" yelped the Wolf. + +"I did not know of these," whined A'tim; "but it is nothing. If +we charge boldly they will stampede." + +"They will fight," answered the Wolf. "No charge will break a +Wolf Pack, and it will be that way with these, I think." + +"The Buffalo are different," lied A'tim. He knew better, but it +was his only hope. Well he knew that if there were no attack his +New Comrades would surely eat him. In the battle many things +might come to pass, his Dog wisdom said; the Wolves might be +killed, or prodded full of a sufficiency of fight; the Buffalo +might stampede, being new to Shag's leadership; or, when the +combat was heavy, he could steal away if he saw it going against +them. Also his desire for revenge on Shag was a potent factor. + +"They will surely break if we charge with strength," he declared: +"they are Cows, having no Calves to guard, and each will think +only of her own safety when she hears your fierce cry, Pack +Leader. I, who have lived upon Buffalo in the South, know this. +Why should I say this, being also in the fight, if it were not +true. Come, Brothers, even now they are afraid." + +The Buffalo Cows were stamping the young-turfed prairie with +nervous feet. Shag was throwing clouds of dust over his lowered +head, and kinking his tufted tail in battle anger. + +"Yes, he will fight," declared A'tim, as Shag snorted and shook +his head defiantly; "he will fight, but that will save much +running, for we shall soon bring him down." + +The Wolf Leader weighed the matter with a gravity born of his +long fast. Certainly it appeared worth a battle. If they could +but make one Kill, what a feast it would be! Never had he seen +Grass Feeders of this bulk. Why should he and his Sons, who +were strong fighters, full of the Wolf cunning, dread these +Buffalo who had nothing but horns for defense! No fear of the +fierce-cutting hoof thrust, such as Mooswa gave! And he was +hungry. He looked at the Dog-Wolf with the eye of an epicure; +what miserable eating his thin carcass would make. Much better +this fight for a Buffalo. + +"We will charge," he said. "All at the Bull!" + +With short, gasping yelps the three Wolves and the Mongrel dashed +at the Herd. The crescent of horned heads swayed a little +irresolutely; but Shag, wise old Leader, Leader of mighty Herds, +Patrician of a thousand kine, who had stood against the fierce +blizzard, and the Foothill Wolves that came down in mighty Packs +seeking the calves that were in his charge,--he who had fought +the young Bulls growing into their strength, and kept them in +subjection until his horns were worn to stubs and of no avail; +whose heart, once aroused, was strong, and knew not of defeat +until it came: this dauntless Monarch of the plain stood firm. +What were four Wolves to him! Let them come. + +"This is a Leader!" said the six Cows. "Surely here is no +danger." + +"No danger," repeated Shag, hearing their voices; "stand close +and there is no danger." + +"Oo-oo-oo-ah, wah, wah, wah!" howled the Wolves and barked the +Dog-Wolf, as almost to the stockade of heavy heads they rushed. + +"Circle, Brothers, circle," called the big Wolf, as he swerved to +the right, seeking to turn the flank of the Cow line. Like +trained soldiers the Buffalo crescent swung as the Wolves swung, +Shag always a little in front. With an angry snarl the Leader +dashed at the Buffalo; his two Sons were at his shoulder. + +"The Bull! the Bull!" yelped A'tim, crouching to steal under the +giant head, and lay him by the flank. + +Famine-braved, the Wolves fought and snapped, and snarled the +Kill cry. Crazed beyond cowardice by the smell of their own +blood, the Cows fenced and thrust, and stood one against the +other--the sharp horns ripped like skinning-knives. + +"Ee-e-yah! if I could but do it!" snarled the great Wolf. Ah! he +had her--by the nose! Down to her knees, dragged by the Wolf, +came the Cow that had turned Shag from the Death Flower. + +"Yah, yah, yah!" snarled the Wolf joyously through his set teeth, +as the Cow bellowed loud in her agony of terror. + +Then something like the falling of a great forest was heard, and +the Buffalo Bull descended upon the Big Wolf and blotted him out +from the light of the world. It was not a question of horns at +all; it was simply a great weight like an avalanche of rock +crushing him into the herbed plain. His grim jaws relaxed their +hold; from ears and nostrils flowed his mighty strength in a red +stream. + +Even as Shag charged the Wolf, A'tim had reached for the Cow's +flank! Ah! here was his chance. The Bull's fat throat beckoned to +him from within easy reach. Wah, for his revenge! E-e-uh, for the +throat grip--the throat-cutting hold! + +Eagerly, wide-jawed he sprang at the Brother Outcast--and missed. + +The carnage had sent Shag's life back a score of years; the +battle heat warmed his old blood until it coursed with the fire +of fighting youth; he was a young Bull again, full of the +glorious supple strength that had been his as chief gladiator of +all the prairie arena: that was why A'tim fell short as he +reached for the death hold. + +With a deft twist Shag had the Dog-Wolf pinned to the earth +between the worn old horns. + +"Now, traitor," he grunted. + +"Spare me," pleaded A'tim; "I, who am not of your kind, slept by +your side, and guided you to this land where you have a Herd. I +was forced to this by the Wolves--they threatened to eat me. +Spare me, Great Bull; I came to warn you, but the Wolves followed +fast." + +Shag hesitated. One crunch from his broad forehead, one little +push--so, and the Dog-Wolf, who was A'tim, would-- + +[Illustration: "THOU ART A TRAITOR, AND A GREAT LIAR," SAID THE +BULL.] + +"Spare me, Shag--let me go," pleaded the mongrel again; "I +brought you to this Herd--to this Northland which is good. Were +we not Outcast Brothers together?" + +Again Shag hesitated. Why not? Was he not a Buffalo Bull, a +Leader of Herds? Did his kind ever do aught for revenge--kill +except in defense of their own lives? And was not this Dog-Wolf +lying helpless between his horns beyond all chance of doing him +injury--this Mongrel that had been as a Brother to him when they +were Outcasts? Also the Wolves were dead--trampled into silence. + +"Thou art a traitor, and a great liar, A'tim," said the Bull, +rising, "but you may go because you are an Outcast, and because I +also was one." + +And that was the beginning of the Herd of the Wood Buffalo, that +are big and strong and beautiful, in the spruce forests of the +Athabasca Lake. + +[Illustration: END] + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES + +The punctuation was standardized in the caption "One after another they +hurtled into the slaughter-pen of the Blood Indians' corral." + +The word "everyting" has been retained on page 82. + +The punctuation and paragraphing were standardized on page 129. + +The "oe" ligature in the word manoeuver is represented as [oe]. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Outcasts, by W. A. 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