beasts of the wild together. She must be hunted down and
destroyed before he could go on with his business of laying in stores
for the winter.

For several days the man prowled in ever-widening circles around his
cabin, seeking to pick up his enemy's fresh trail. At last, late one
afternoon, he found it, on the outskirts of the swamp. It was too late
to follow it up then. But the next day he set out betimes with rifle,
axe and spade, vowed to the extermination of the whole carcajou
family, for he knew, as well as the old wolf did, why the carcajou had
taken up her quarters in the swamp.

It chanced that this very morning was the morning when the wolves had
undertaken to settle their ancient grudge. The old leader--his mate
being occupied with her cubs--had managed to get hold of two other
members of the pack, with memories as long as his. The unravelling of
the trails in the swamp was an easy task for their keen noses. They
found the burrow on the dry, warm knoll, prowled stealthily all about
it for a few minutes, then set themselves to digging it open. When the
man, whose wary, moccasined feet went noiselessly as a fox's, came in
eyeshot of the knoll, the sight he caught through the dark jumble of
tree-trunks brought him to a stop. He slunk behind a screen of
branches and peered forth with eager interest. What he saw was three
big, gray wolves, starting to dig furiously. He knew they were digging
at the carcajou's burrow.

When the wolves fell to digging their noses told them that there were
young carcajous in the burrow, but they could not be sure whether the
old one was at home or not. On this point, however, they were
presently informed. As the dry earth flew from beneath their furious
claws, a dark, blunt snout shot forth, to be as swiftly withdrawn.
Its appearance was followed by a yelp of pain, and one of the younger
wolves drew back, walking on three legs. One fore paw had been bitten
clean through, and he lay down whining, to lick and cherish it. That
paw, at least, would do no more digging for some time.

The man, in his hiding-place behind the screen, saw what had happened,
and felt a twinge of sympathetic admiration for his enemy, the savage
little fighter in the burrow. The remaining two wolves now grew more
cautious, keeping back from the entrance as well as they could, and
undermining its edges. Again and again the dark muzzle shot forth, but
the wolves always sprang away in time to escape punishment.