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+<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 */
+<!--
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+ 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; */
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+ font-size: 75%;
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+ } /* page numbers */
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+
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+ .u {text-decoration: underline;}
+
+ .caption {font-weight: bold;}
+
+ .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;}
+
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+
+ .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;
+ margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;}
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+
+<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 &nbsp; &ndash; &nbsp; &ndash; &nbsp; &ndash; &nbsp; &ndash; &nbsp; &ndash; &nbsp; 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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</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">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;held my tail straight up"</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</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">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;meaneth a Dog in the talk of the Crees"</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</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">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;slaughter-pen of the Blood Indians' corral</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</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">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Shag, "this is a friend of mine"</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</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">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"no doubt we shall find something for</a></td><td></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#OH_DONT_MENTION">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;dinner, presently"</a></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</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">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;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,&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;ha! most
+surely it means 'a stealer of things.'
+But I meant not to liken you to him,
+Brother Shag&mdash;it was only my fright;
+for even in my dreams I am always seeing
+the terrible Camous. I have cause
+to remember him, Shag&mdash;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&mdash;think of that, Shag!&mdash;or just the
+tongue taken. If we make a kill it is
+for the eating&mdash;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&mdash;I mean&mdash;"
+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&mdash;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&mdash;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="&quot;I AM NO WOLF, SHAG; I AM A&#39;TIM, WHICH MEANETH A DOG IN
+THE TALK OF THE CREES." title="&quot;I AM NO WOLF, SHAG; I AM A&#39;TIM, WHICH MEANETH A DOG IN
+THE TALK OF THE CREES." />
+</a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;I AM NO WOLF, SHAG; I AM A&#39;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&mdash;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&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Thou must have been of a great
+strength, Shag, for thou art the biggest
+Bull from Belly Buttes to Old Man
+River&mdash;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&mdash;that
+many; and when crossing a coulee I've
+turned with pride on the opposite bank&mdash;I
+always went first&mdash;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&mdash;because
+I tolerated them, of course&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;made of me an Outcast?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is to be a big Run to-morrow&mdash;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&mdash;"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&mdash;even the old Indian of
+deep cunning who made it, Chief
+Poundmaker&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;"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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;famished!"</p>
+
+<p>"Always of blood," muttered the Bull
+to himself&mdash;"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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;a strange thing for a Dog-Wolf,
+too," he muttered to himself&mdash;"it
+<i>will</i> be a mighty Kill. How slowly
+the Herd moves; they are not afraid of
+the one animal, whatever it is&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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 man&#339;uver 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&mdash;the Buffalo Pound.
+I saw the Indians building these trail-slides
+last night. It will be a great Run&mdash;a
+mighty Kill!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," affirmed Shag, "we both know
+of this thing&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;nothing! and the
+Pound still lay hushed&mdash;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&mdash;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&#39; CORRAL." title="ONE AFTER ANOTHER THEY HURTLED INTO THE SLAUGHTER-PEN
+OF THE BLOOD INDIANS&#39; CORRAL." />
+</a>
+<span class="caption">ONE AFTER ANOTHER THEY HURTLED INTO THE SLAUGHTER-PEN
+OF THE BLOOD INDIANS&#39; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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"&mdash;ah, well A'tim
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41" href="#Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
+knew the loin!&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;never&mdash;tasted&mdash;"
+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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;there was
+no harm in them, being, like ourselves,
+Grass Feeders; and to the South-West,
+Dog-Wolf&mdash;&mdash;"</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&mdash;from
+here we can even see Chief
+Mountain where is that land&mdash;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&mdash;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>
+&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;"alkali,
+that's what Man calls it."</p>
+
+<p>"Let us rest here this night&mdash;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&mdash;a land almost devoid of
+life; and the Dog-Wolf was coming
+again into the chronic state of his existence&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;if no
+other meat was to be had&mdash;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&mdash;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?&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;he was weary
+of being alone; it was dreadful to be an
+Outcast; but rather than starve to death&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&#39;TIM IN HIS LONG-CLAWED GRASP." title="MUSKWA HAD A&#39;TIM IN HIS LONG-CLAWED GRASP." />
+</a>
+<span class="caption">MUSKWA HAD A&#39;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;"</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&mdash;&mdash;"</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&mdash;neck, you were going
+to say. Are you leading the Bull
+to your Wolf Pack, perhaps&mdash;Dog?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, Comrades," interrupted
+Shag. "We are glad of your company,
+little Cow-Bird&mdash;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="&quot;STEADY, DOG-WOLF, STEADY,&quot; ADMONISHED SHAG, &quot;THIS IS A
+FRIEND OF MINE.&quot;" title="&quot;STEADY, DOG-WOLF, STEADY,&quot; ADMONISHED SHAG, &quot;THIS IS A
+FRIEND OF MINE.&quot;" />
+</a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;STEADY, DOG-WOLF, STEADY,&quot; ADMONISHED SHAG, &quot;THIS IS A
+FRIEND OF MINE.&quot;</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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;at least I
+thought so, Great Bull."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, don't think again&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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)&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;just so," hesitated A'tim in
+deprecating voice; "so fortunate&mdash;I
+mean&mdash;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&mdash;there were only three
+Grubs&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't mention it!" exclaimed
+the Wolf; "no doubt we shall find
+something for dinner presently&mdash;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="&quot;OH, DON&#39;T MENTION IT!&quot; EXCLAIMED THE WOLF; &quot;NO DOUBT WE SHALL FIND SOMETHING
+FOR DINNER PRESENTLY.&quot;" title="&quot;OH, DON&#39;T MENTION IT!&quot; EXCLAIMED THE WOLF; &quot;NO DOUBT WE SHALL FIND SOMETHING
+FOR DINNER PRESENTLY.&quot;" />
+</a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;OH, DON&#39;T MENTION IT!&quot; EXCLAIMED THE WOLF; &quot;NO DOUBT WE SHALL FIND SOMETHING
+FOR DINNER PRESENTLY.&quot;</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&mdash;though there's not
+much of it, to be sure. I'm filled with
+the accursed plague poison&mdash;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&mdash;I mean, never mind
+about that just now. Gh-u-r-r-h! what
+of this great kill?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Brother Wolves&mdash;&mdash;"</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&mdash;for Dog meat is horrible&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;therefore we
+are of a strong build. You are of the
+Northland; swift as the wind, and long
+running, Great Wolf&mdash;you and your
+beautiful Sons&mdash;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&mdash;but never mind; what
+of the Kill, Lone Dog?"</p>
+
+<p>"What say you to a Buffalo&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, then&mdash;" sneered the Wolf;
+"if you fail to show us this Buffalo,
+then&mdash;" 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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,&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;the throat-cutting
+hold!</p>
+
+<p>Eagerly, wide-jawed he sprang at the
+Brother Outcast&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;so, and
+the Dog-Wolf, who was A'tim, would&mdash;
+</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="&quot;THOU ART A TRAITOR, AND A GREAT LIAR,&quot; SAID THE BULL" title="&quot;THOU ART A TRAITOR, AND A GREAT LIAR,&quot; SAID THE BULL" />
+</a>
+<span class="caption">&quot;THOU ART A TRAITOR, AND A GREAT LIAR,&quot; 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&mdash;let me go,"
+pleaded the mongrel again; "I brought
+you to this Herd&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;this Mongrel that had been as
+a Brother to him when they were Outcasts?
+Also the Wolves were dead&mdash;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. A. Fraser
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