ant of his meal to a place of hiding under an overhanging rock.
Then, well content with himself, he crept into a dark thicket and
slept for several hours.

When he awoke, a new-risen moon was shining, with something in her
light which half bewildered him, half stung him to uncomprehended
desires. Skulking to the crest of a naked knoll, he saw the landscape
spread out all around him, with the few twinkling lights of the
straggling village below the slopes of the pasture. But not for
lights, or for villages, or for men was his concern. Sitting up very
straight on his gaunt haunches, he stretched his muzzle toward the
taunting moon, and began to sound that long, dreadful gathering cry of
his race.

It was an unknown or a long-forgotten voice in those neighborhoods,
but none who heard it needed to have it explained. In half a minute
every dog in the settlement was howling, barking, or yelping, in rage
or fear. To Lone Wolf all this clamor was as nothing. He paid no more
attention to it than as if it had been the twittering of sparrows.
Then doors opened, and lights flashed as men came out to see what was
the matter. Clearly visible, silhouetted against the low moon, Lone
Wolf kept up his sinister chant to the unseen. But presently, out of
the corner of his eye, he noted half a dozen men approaching up the
pasture, with the noisy dogs at their heels. Men! That was different!
Could it be that they wanted him? All at once he experienced a qualm
of conscience, so to speak, about the sheep he had killed. It occurred
to him that if sheep belonged to men, there might be trouble ahead.
Abruptly he stopped his serenading of the moon, slipped over the crest
of the knoll, and made off at a long, tireless gallop which before
morning had put leagues between himself and the angry villagers.

After this he gave a wide berth to settlements; and having made his
first kill, he suddenly found himself an accomplished hunter. It was
as if long-buried memories had sprung all at once to life,--memories,
indeed, not of his own but of his ancestors',--and he knew, all at
once, how to stalk the shy wild rabbits, to run down and kill the red
deer. The country through which he journeyed was well stocked with
game, and he fed abundantly as he went, with no more effort than just
enough to give zest to his freedom. In this fashion he kept on for
many days, working ever northward just because the wild lands
stretched in that direction; and at last he c