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Updated: July 26, 2025
Jimmie said, and the next moment the wolf-cry which Fremont had first heard rang out. "Sounds like a wet wolf!" declared Frank. "I know of a Black Bear that ain't any dryer!" replied Jimmie. Nestor reached the level space in front of the west window of the hut just as the guard left the corner in the interest of a little warmth.
An answering cry rose in his throat, dying away in a whine, and for an hour after that he heard no more of the wolf-cry in the wind. The pack had swung to the west so far away that their voices were lost. And it passed with the moon straight over them close to the shack of Pierrot, the halfbreed. In Pierrot's cabin was a white man, on his way to Fort O' God.
MacNair drew a deep breath, and the next moment the long wolf-cry boomed out over the silent snow. As if by magic, the clearing sprang into life. Lights shone from the barrack windows and from the windows of the cabins beyond; doors banged.
"No, oh, no!" she generously responded. "None of us not one of us not even Angelica, suspected for a moment that he was in earnest. It had been his wolf-cry, you know, all his life. Evadne herself has no inkling of the truth." "I hope she never will," I said. "If it rests with Diavolo, she will not," his mother answered, proud of him, and with good cause.
Yet it was not the wolf-cry, for long ago the malformation of a healing throat-wound had distorted the bell-like cry into a hideous scream like the shriek of a soul foredamned, which quavered loud and shrill upon the keen air and ended in a series of quick jerks, like stabs of horrible laughter.
This ecstasy, this forgetfulness of living, comes to the artist, caught up and out of himself in a sheet of flame; it comes to the soldier, war-mad on a stricken field and refusing quarter; and it came to Buck, leading the pack, sounding the old wolf-cry, straining after the food that was alive and that fled swiftly before him through the moonlight.
All the drivers were more or less the worse for merry-making, and the groom was absorbed in his bride. The wolves were bad that winter, and every one knew it, yet when they heard the first wolf-cry, the drivers were not much alarmed. They had too much good food and drink inside them. The first howls were taken up and echoed and with quickening repetitions. The wolves were coming together.
Boniface Church avers that the tolling bell on Christmas Eve never fails to provoke that weird and melancholy Wolf-cry from the wooded graveyard a hundred steps away, where they laid his Little Jim, the only being on earth that ever met him with the touch of love. Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal! Sing ye the song of the Vand-dam troll.
Her trembling limbs began to fail; but again the fiendish wolf-cry resounded, succeeded by that of another, and yet another, showing that the call of the first had brought others to the chase, made her forget her weakness, and, like a spirit, away she sped, once more, on the race for life.
All too quickly, far more quickly than he had expected, it happened. He heard a shot, then two shots, in rapid succession, and he knew that Bill's ammunition was gone. Then he heard a great outcry of snarls and yelps. He recognised One Ear's yell of pain and terror, and he heard a wolf-cry that bespoke a stricken animal. And that was all. The snarls ceased. The yelping died away.
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