He felt for a match, but his fingers were too numbed to open the watertight case, and he proceeded to measure the distance between the footprints.

This was an unreliable test, as a big deer's stride varies with its pace, but he thought the tracks indicated a caribou.

Then he stopped, without rising, and looked about.
Near in front the trees rose in a shadowy wall against the clear blue sky; there was no wind, and it was oppressively still; the darkness of the woods was impenetrable and its silence daunting.

The row of tracks was the only sign of life Blake had seen for days.
While he listened, a faint howl came out of the distance, and was followed by another.

After the deep silence, the sound was startling.
Blake recognized the cry of the timber wolves, and knew his danger.
The big gray brutes would make short work of a lonely man.