ughed at it. But it was the best his finances would allow
of. He started south--up the McFarlane. Beyond a certain point on the
river prospectors had found no gold. Sandy pushed confidently _beyond_
this point. Not until he was in new country did he begin his search.
Slowly he worked his way up a small tributary whose headwaters were
fifty or sixty miles to the south and east. Here and there he found
fairly good placer gold. He might have panned six or eight dollars'
worth a day. With this much he was disgusted. Week after week he
continued to work his way up-stream, and the farther he went the poorer
his pans became. At last only occasionally did he find colors. After
such disgusting weeks as these Sandy was dangerous--when in the company
of others. Alone he was harmless.

One afternoon he ran his canoe ashore on a white strip of sand. This was
at a bend, where the stream had widened, and gave promise of at least a
few colors. He had bent down close to the edge of the water when
something caught his attention on the wet sand. What he saw were the
footprints of animals. Two had come down to drink. They had stood side
by side. And the footprints were fresh--made not more than an hour or
two before. A gleam of interest shot into Sandy's eyes. He looked behind
him, and up and down the stream.

"Wolves," he grunted. "Wish I could 'a' shot at 'em with that old
minute-gun back there. Gawd--listen to that! And in broad daylight,
too!"

He jumped to his feet, staring off into the bush.

A quarter of a mile away Gray Wolf had caught the dreaded scent of man
in the wind, and was giving voice to her warning. It was a long wailing
howl, and not until its last echoes had died away did Sandy McTrigger
move. Then he returned to the canoe, took out his old gun, put a fresh
cap on the nipple and disappeared quickly over the edge of the bank.

For a week Kazan and Gray Wolf had been wandering about the headwaters
of the McFarlane and this was the first time since the preceding winter
that Gray Wolf had caught the scent of man in the air. When the wind
brought the danger-signal to her she was alone. Two or three minutes
before the scent came to her Kazan had left her side in swift pursuit of
a snow-shoe rabbit, and she lay flat on her belly under a bush, waiting
for him. In these moments when she was alone Gray Wolf was constantly
sniffing the air. Blindness had developed her scent and hearing until
they were next to infallible. Firs