tchful cur started a barking, which
was taken up and kept up for an hour by all the dogs of the village.
At this the wolf, with snarling, contemptuous jaws apart, withdrew to
a knoll, sat quietly erect upon his haunches, and waited for the din
to subside. He noted carefully the fact that one or two men were
aroused by the alarm, and came out to see what was the matter. When
all was quiet again he sought the house of the nearest yelper, took
him by surprise, and killed him in sheer rage, leaving his torn body
beside the very door-step, instead of dragging it away for a later
meal. This was a mistake in hunting craft. Had he been more familiar
with the man-folk, his wide-skulled intelligence would have taught him
better than to leave a clue behind him in this careless fashion.

[Illustration: "HE BARED HIS FANGS DISDAINFULLY."]

From the farmyard he wandered back toward the hills, and came upon a
lonely sheep pasture. Here he found killing so easy that he slew in
wantonness; and then, about daybreak, gorged and triumphant, withdrew
to a rocky hillside, where he found a lair to his taste.

Later in the day, however, he realized his mistake. He had called down
upon himself the wrath of the man-folk. A din of dogs aroused him,
and, mounting a rock, he saw a motley crowd of curs upon his trail,
with half a dozen men following far behind them. He bared his fangs
disdainfully, then turned and sought the forest at a long gallop,
which, for all his limp and his twinge, soon carried him beyond
ear-shot of his pursuers.

For hours he pressed on ever eastward, with a little trend to the
south, crossing many a trail of deer, caribou, and moose, passing here
and there a beaver village, and realizing that he had come to
wonderful hunting-grounds. But when he came to the outskirts of
another settlement, he halted. His jaws ran water at the thought of
finding another sheep pasture, and he decided to range for awhile in
this neighbourhood. He was quick to realize the disadvantage of man's
proximity, but he would dare it for a little before retiring into the
untainted wilderness. He had learned his lesson quickly, however. That
night he refrained from stirring up the dogs of the settlement; and he
killed but one sheep, in a secluded corner of the pasture.

Now, by singular chance, it happened that at this particular
settlement there was already a sheep-killer harrying the thick-wooled
flocks. A wandering peddler, smitten with a fever