They approached cautiously, keeping full in the wind.

The swamp grew thicker, the spruce more dense, and now--from a hundred yards ahead of them--there came a crashing of locked and battling horns.

Ten seconds more they climbed over a snowdrift, and Kazan stopped and dropped flat on his belly.

Gray Wolf crouched close at his side, her blind eyes turned to what she could smell but could not see.
Fifty yards from them a number of moose had gathered for shelter in the thick spruce.

They had eaten clear a space an acre in extent.