For fully a hundred yards Thor continued his detour, and three times in that hundred yards he paused to sniff in the direction of the timber.

At last he was satisfied.

The wind was full in his face, and it was rich with promise.
[Illustration: "Like the wind Thor bore down on the flank of the caribou, swung a little to one side, and then without any apparent effort--still like a huge ball--he bounded in and upward, and the short race was done."] He began to advance, in a slinking, rolling, rock-shouldered motion, taking shorter steps now, and with every muscle in his great body ready for action.

Within two minutes he reached the edge of the balsams, and there he paused again.

The crackling of underbrush came distinctly.