[Illustration: "The terrible howl of the great white wolf"]

There was another long period of waiting; our eyes grew weary, filled as
they were with shadows and uncertainties in the moonlight, and we turned
our ears to the hills, waiting with strained, silent expectancy for the
challenge. Suddenly Noel pointed upward and my eye caught something
moving swiftly on the crest of the mountain. A shadow with the slinking
trot of a wolf glided along the ridge between us and the moon. Just in
front of us it stopped, leaped upon a big rock, turned a pointed nose up
to the sky, sharp and clear as a fir top in the moonlight,
and--_ooooooo-ow-wow-wow!_ the terrible howl of a great white wolf
tumbled down on the husky dogs and set them howling as if possessed. No
doubt now of their queer actions which had puzzled me for hours past.
The wild wolf had called and the tame wolves waked to answer. Before my
dull ears had heard a rumor of it they were crazy with the excitement.
Now every chord in their wild hearts was twanging its thrilling answer
to the leader's summons, and my own heart awoke and thrilled as it never
did before to the call of a wild beast.

For an hour or more the old wolf sat there, challenging his degenerate
mates in every silence, calling the tame to be wild, the bound to be
free again, and listening gravely to the wailing answer of the dogs,
which refused with groanings, as if dragging themselves away from
overmastering temptation. Then the shadow vanished from the big rock on
the mountain, the huskies fled away wildly from the shore, and only the
sob of the breakers broke the stillness.

That was my first (and Noel's last) shadowy glimpse of Wayeeses, the
huge white wolf which I had come a thousand miles over land and sea to
study. All over the Long Range of the northern peninsula I followed him,