For a week past there had been in him a steadily growing unrest, and it had reached its climax in these last two or three days of battle and flight.

He was filled with a strange and unsatisfied yearning, and as Muskwa napped in his little bed among the bushes Thor's ears were keenly alert for certain sounds and his nose frequently sniffed the air.

He wanted a mate.

It was _puskoowepesim_--the "moulting moon"-- and always in this moon, or the end of the "egg-laying moon," which was June, he hunted for the female that came to him from the western ranges.

He was almost entirely a creature of habit, and always he made this particular detour, entering the other valley again far down toward the Babine.