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Updated: June 9, 2025
Surely the Dog-Wolf had lingered too long in that barren Southern country, where there was only the rat-faced Gopher, who was but a mouthful; with, perhaps, the chance of a Buffalo Calf caught away from the Herd. Even that chance was gone now, for man was killing them all off. Yes, it was well that they should trail to the Northland, each said to the other.
Have a strong heart food will be sent." "Sent!" snapped A'tim crabbedly; "who will send it? Will my Gray Half-Brothers, who are Wolves, send it come and lay a dead Caribou at my feet? Will the Train Dogs, of whose kind I am, come and feed me with White Fish the dried Fish their drivers give them so sparingly?" "I cannot say, Dog-Wolf; but surely food does not come of one's own thinking.
The soft-edged shafts of gold-yellow quivered tremblingly behind the blue-gray mountains, as though Sol were laughing at the address of the Outcast. The Dog-Wolf looked furtively over his shoulder at the smoke-wreathed cones of the Blood tepees. The odor of many flesh-pots tickled his nostrils until they quivered in longing desire. Buh-h-h! but he was hungry!
Suddenly he broke off and made a fierce rush into the prairie. A brown Cow-Bird flew up and lighted on Shag's horn. The Dog-Wolf rose on his hind legs and snapped viciously at the Bird. "Steady, Dog-Wolf, steady," admonished Shag, "this is a friend of mine. Do you not know the Cow-Bird, who is always with the Herd?" "Who is your friend?" asked the Cow-Bird of Shag.
"My poor Brothers and Sisters, also some of my own children, are in that Herd, though they, too, have disowned and driven me forth." "There will be more sweet grass for your feeding when they are gone, Shag," declared Dog-Wolf. "Ah, there's plenty of eating, such as it is; though the grass on the prairie looks short and dry and harsh, yet it is sweet in the cud.
"There," said A'tim, nodding his head at the bronze gold of the many Monkshood, "there is the Fur Flower. It will be dry eating now, being of a season's age, but in the early feed-time it is sweet and tender. While you eat of it I shall rest here." A strong rustling of grass almost at their heels caused the Dog-Wolf to spring to his feet in alarm. "Eu-h-h, eu-h-h! here is the accursed Cow again.
"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.
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.
"It's only a hungry Wolf," he grunted, as he sat in the council again; "let us talk of the Buffalo Run." That was what the Dog-Wolf had heard lying in the tangle of gray willow, close to the tepee of Eagle Shoe, the Blood Indian; and he would sleep peacefully, his hunger stayed by the morrow's prospect.
You, A'tim, who are half Wolf, know how it comes that where one of your kind puts his teeth, the flesh, sooner or later, melts away, and leaves but a hole how is it, A'tim?" "Foul teeth," growled the Dog-Wolf. "They're a mean lot, are the Gray Runners; even I, who am half of their kind, bear them no love have they not outcasted me because of my Dog blood?
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