The night that followed was cloudless, with a white moon and brilliant stars.

The temperature had fallen another ten degrees, and nothing was moving.

Traps were never sprung on such nights, for even the furred things--the mink, and the ermine, and the lynx--lay snug in the holes and the nests they had found for themselves.

An increasing hunger was not strong enough to drive Kazan and Gray Wolf from their windfall.

The next day there was no break in the terrible cold, and toward noon Kazan set out on a hunt for meat, leaving Gray Wolf in the windfall.