of the dwellers within there is no eating to be had here for me.
Cree Indians, and Half-breeds, and Palefaces, all searching the
country for something to kill; and when they have slaughtered the
Beaver, and Marten, and Foxes, and everyting else that has
life, they bring the pelts there and get fire-water, which burns
their stomachs and sets their brains on fire. An honest hunter
like myself, who only kills to stay the hunger that is bred in
him, has no chance; we must sneak and steal, or die."

"But there will be much waste of the Bacon Food there, surely,
A'tim. Why do you not replenish the stomach that is but a curse
to you, being empty, at the lodges we see?"

"No, friend Bull," answered the Dog-Wolf; "unwittingly enough I
nearly caused you disaster the last time I fed at Man's expense.
That time there was but one hunter; here are many, and they would
slay you quick enough."

This was all a lie; the Dog-Wolf had no such consideration for
his Brother Outcast. At the Fort were fierce-fanged hounds that
would run him to earth of a certainty should he venture near;
either that, or if caught he would be quickly clapped into a Dog
Train, and made to push against a collar. Many a weary day of
that he had in his youth; he would rather starve as a vagabond.
Also, would he not perhaps fall heir to the eating that was on
the body of the huge Bull?

"No, Brother," he said decisively; "we shall soon come to a land
with food for both of us; let us go."

Toward the Athabasca they journeyed. The prairie was almost done
with, only patches of it now like fields; poplar and willow and
birch growing everywhere; and beyond the Sturgeon River, tiny
forests of gnarled, stunted jack-pine, creeping wearily from a
soft carpet of silver and emerald moss which lay thick upon the
white sand hills. Little red berries, like blood stars, peeped at
them from the setting of silk lace moss--wintergreen berries, and
grouse berries, and lowbush cranberries, all blushing a furious
red.

"I could sleep here forever," muttered Shag, as he rolled in
luxurious content on this forest rug.

"I can't sleep because of my hunger pains," snarled A'tim. "You
who are well fed care not how I fare." A'tim was petulantly
unreasonable.

Shag looked at the Dog-Wolf wonderingly. "I'm sorry for you, for
your hunger, Dog Brother. Did I not call lovingly to a Moose Calf
but to-day, thinking to entice him your way?"

"Yes, and frightened the big-nosed, spindle-