ted as a cat,
might cross ahead of the unsuspicious Bull, and lure him to his
death. "There," he said finally, as he sat on his haunches and
rested for a minute, looking like a ghoul in the ghostly
moonlight, "I think that's a trick worthy of my Wolf cunning."
Then he hastened back to the other Outcast.

Shag was awake and heard the Dog-Wolf creep to his side. "Where
have you been, A'tim?" he asked sleepily.

"I heard a strange noise in the forest, and thought perhaps some
evil Hunter had followed your big trail; fearing for your safety,
Brother, I went to see what it was."

"And?" queried Shag.

"It was nothing--nothing but a Lynx or some prowling animal."
Shag was already snoring heavily again, and the Dog-Wolf, tired
by his exertion, also soon slumbered.

Next morning A'tim was in rare good humor. "We shall only have
another day or two of this weary tramp," he said, "for the air is
full of the perfume of living things; also things that are dead,
for yonder, high in the air, float three Birds of the Vulture
kind. I shall be in the land of much eating to-day or to-morrow,
I know."

"I am glad of that," answered Shag heartily; "I am tired of this
long tramp--my bones ache from it."

Talking almost incessantly to distract the other's attention,
A'tim led the way straight for his muskeg trap.

"There is some lovely blue-joint grass on the other side of this
beautiful little plain," he said as they came to the tamarack
border of the swamp.

"Is it safe crossing?" asked Shag.

"Quite safe," answered the Dog-Wolf; "there is not a mud spot to
be seen--you will scarce wet a shin. I will go ahead and warn you
should it so happen that there be a soft hole; follow close in my
track."

"Lough-hu! lough-hu!" grunted the Bull at the first step in the
muskeg, as his foot cushioned in the deep moss: "this is like
walking on the White Storm." Ere he could take another step a
startled, "Mouah! Mouah!" struck on his ear. It was the call of
his own kind; and whipping about in an instant, he saw, staring
at him from the tamarack fringe, a Buffalo Cow.

Where had she come from? It was the God of Chance that had sent
her to save the unsuspicious, noble old Bull, only he did not
know that--how could he? "Perhaps she is an Outcast like myself,"
he muttered, advancing eagerly to caress her forehead with his
tongue.

"Come back, Shag," called the Dog-Wolf, seeing the destruction of
his plan; "come back to the sweet feeding;