The famine was over.

The wolves were now in the country of game, and though they still hunted in pack, they hunted more cautiously, cutting out heavy cows or crippled old bulls from the small moose-herds they ran across.
There came a day, in this land of plenty, when the wolf-pack split in half and went in different directions.

The she-wolf, the young leader on her left, and the one-eyed elder on her right, led their half of the pack down to the Mackenzie River and across into the lake country to the east.
Each day this remnant of the pack dwindled.

Two by two, male and female, the wolves were deserting.

Occasionally a solitary male was driven out by the sharp teeth of his rivals.