that is but a
disgraced Cow, outcasted from some Herd."

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.

"Was there ever such a queer happening?" 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.

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.

"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?"

"She's a Wood Buffalo," answered the Dog-Wolf.

"What's a Wood Buffalo?" asked Shag.

"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."

"Why did she run away, Brother A'tim?" grunted Shag, lying down
to rest.

The Dog-Wolf laughed disagreeably. "That is but the way of the
Cow kind," he answered.

"No," said Shag decisively; "she was frightened."

"She was," assented A'tim; "Ghur-r-r! I should say so."

"At what?" asked Shag.

"Forgive me, Brother, but most assuredly she was frightened by
you."

"By me--am I not of her kind?"

"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."

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.

"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."

"Do you speak the truth, Dog-Wolf?" asked Shag.

"Most