Not more than another six weeks had passed since then, and Muskwa weighed about twenty pounds--that is, he had weighed twenty pounds, but he was emptier now than he had ever been in his life, and probably weighed a little less.
Three hundred yards below Thor was a clump of balsams, a small thick patch that grew close to the edge of the miniature lake whose water crept around the farther end of the hollow.

In that clump there was a caribou--perhaps two or three.

Thor knew that as surely as though he saw them.

The _wenipow_, or "lying down," smell of hoofed game was as different from the _nechisoo_, or "grazing smell," to Thor as day from night.

One hung elusively in the air, like the faint and shifting breath of a passing woman's scented dress and hair; the other came hot and heavy, close to the earth, like the odour of a broken bottle of perfume.
Even Muskwa now caught the scent as he crept up close behind the big grizzly and lay down.
For fully ten minutes Thor did not move.