A weakness in that thong, a slip of the collar, and Wolf would have bounded joyously into the forests to seek for ever the packs of his fathers.

Now the babeesh rope was taut, Wolf's muzzle was turned half to the sky, his ears were alert, half-sounding notes rattled in his throat.
"There is something near our camp!" announced the Indian boy, drawing himself back quickly.

"Muky--" He was interrupted by a long mournful howl from the captive wolf.
Mukoki had jumped to his feet with the alertness of a cat, and now with his gun in his hand slunk around the edge of the shelter and buried himself in the gloom.

Roderick lay quiet while Wabi, seizing the remaining rifle, followed him.
"Lie over there in the dark, Rod, where the firelight doesn't show you up," he cautioned in a low voice.

"Probably it is only some animal that has stumbled on to our camp, but we want to make sure." Ten minutes later the young hunter returned alone.
"False alarm!" he laughed cheerfully.