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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Carry me, Brother," he said to the Bull, "for I am weak like a new Pup. If I could but see a Trapper's shack or a camp," he confided to Shag, as he clung to the Bull's hump, "I might find something to eat Ghur-r-r! a piece of the Pork Eating, or a half-picked bone, or a Duck killed by the Fire-stick!
"It is now the season of many Ducks here, even at Egg Lake; perchance in the reed grass yonder, by the willows, I may stalk a Wavey, or even a Goose." Ghur-r-r! but he was hungry! A'tim stole on in front; flat to the grass his belly, and low his head.
Back and forth, up and down, in and out, double and twist, sometimes near and sometimes far, but always with the "Ghur-r-r!" of the Dog-Wolf's breath coming to Shag's ears, the shadow and its pursuer chased. Suddenly Shag started as a plaintive squeak died away in a harsh growl of exultation. "He has him," muttered Shag; "this will stay the clamor of his hunger talk, I hope."
Once bitten is twice shy with me; and, as you see, I carry the Tribe mark of your Wolf-kind in my thigh since the time I was a Calf." "Ghur-r-r! Of the Wolf-kind, quite true, Great Bull that is their way; but I, who am no Wolf, but a Dog, do not seek to hamstring my friends." The Bull answered nothing, but as they journeyed watched his companion carefully. "Dreadfully foolish!" mused A'tim.
"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."
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