emi-circle to the north
or south. Yet not one of these suspicious folk could have given any
plain reason for their avoidance of the spot. It was enough for them
that the wisdom of the ages informed them it was bad.

But now, in addition to the vague influence of the place, its evil
reputation had been strengthened by an added terror which was by no
means vague: it was known as the lair of a new resident--the Great Lone
Wolf.

Where the Lone Wolf had come from, nobody could tell. One Fall, when the
air was full of the honking of the geese, he had arrived mysteriously
with the first cold, and seemed to bring the winter with him. And from
that day, the soundless word went throughout Carboona's inmost recesses:
"Beware of the Terror of the eastern thickets. Beware of the Lone Wolf."
And those who were foolish enough to disregard the warning, escaped a
hard winter by falling to prey to the wolf.

One morning, Lone Wolf slept later than was his habit. During his sleep
he did not dream; yet warm scents, drifting in the shimmering tide of
the heat, lapped against his nose in ripples so fine that they did not
disturb his brain.

When at length he awoke, he yawned. The yawn was like a huge gash in his
lower face. After the yawn, he rose, and shook himself. Then he sat down
on his haunches and looked abroad into the world. He had slept well, and
was not aware of being hungry; so there was no need to bother himself
about hunting. For all that, he was not contented. He wanted something,
but he didn't know what. He felt he might find it, if he went for a
walk. So he walked. When he came to the angle of a certain stone, he
stopped dead, sniffed, set his hair bristling between his shoulders, and
growled in the very black places of his throat.

He had found a rival's mark!

The sudden change in Lone Wolf was remarkable. From being an apparently
lazy hump of dark grey wolfishness with an air of nothing to do, he
turned into an alert, cunning Ferocity whose every nerve and faculty
were tightened up for the performance of something very particular
indeed. As he moved over the sun-scorched surface of the rocky ground,
his body carried low on the great springs of his legs, he seemed to
gather all the ancient floating evil of the locality to himself and give
it a wolf's shape.

If the Carboona peoples had known that the Terror was once more upon the
prowl, a thrill of fear would have shot along the mountain, like an
electric current.