wolfine form, framed by the doorway, was designed in black against the
light of morning. He made up his mind, and entered. The boy, seeing the
wolf in the caravan, got out of the bear-skin, and, standing up, placed
himself in front of the little infant, who was sleeping more soundly
than ever.

Ursus had just hung the lantern up on a nail in the ceiling. Silently,
and with mechanical deliberation, he unbuckled the belt in which was his
case, and replaced it on the shelf. He looked at nothing, and seemed to
see nothing. His eyes were glassy. Something was moving him deeply in
his mind. His thoughts at length found breath, as usual, in a rapid
outflow of words. He exclaimed,--

"Happy, doubtless! Dead! stone dead!"

He bent down, and put a shovelful of turf mould into the stove; and as
he poked the peat he growled out,--

"I had a deal of trouble to find her. The mischief of the unknown had
buried her under two feet of snow. Had it not been for Homo, who sees as
clearly with his nose as Christopher Columbus did with his mind, I
should be still there, scratching at the avalanche, and playing hide and
seek with Death. Diogenes took his lantern and sought for a man; I took
my lantern and sought for a woman. He found a sarcasm, and I found
mourning. How cold she was! I touched her hand--a stone! What silence in
her eyes! How can any one be such a fool as to die and leave a child
behind? It will not be convenient to pack three into this box. A pretty
family I have now! A boy and a girl!"

Whilst Ursus was speaking, Homo sidled up close to the stove. The hand