arm, and a deadly chill possessed me, I noticed how long his little
ear-tufts were. Then my thoughts went to the comfortable
supper-table at Wright's shanty, and I thought, now they are frying
the pork for supper, or just sitting down. My pony still stood as I
left him with his bridle on the ground patiently waiting to take me
home. He did not understand the long delay, and when I called, he
ceased nibbling the grass and looked at me in dumb, helpless
inquiry. If he would only go home the empty saddle might tell the
tale and bring help. But his very faithfulness kept him waiting hour
after hour while I was perishing of cold and hunger.

Then I remembered how old Girou the trapper had been lost, and
in the following spring his comrades found his skeleton held by the
leg in a bear-trap. I wondered which part of my clothing would
show my identity. Then a new thought came to me. This is how a
wolf feels when he is trapped. Oh! what misery have I been
responsible for! Now I'm to pay for it.

Night came slowly on. A prairie wolf howled, the pony pricked up
his ears and, walking nearer to me, stood with his head down.
Then another prairie wolf howled and another, and I could make
out that they were gathering in the neighborhood. There I lay prone
and helpless, wondering if it would not be strictly just that they
should come and tear me to pieces. I heard them calling for a long
time before I realized that dim, shadowy forms were sneaking
near. The horse taw them fIrst, and his terrified snort drove them
back at first, but they came nearer next time and sat around me on
the prairie. Soon one bolder than the others crawled up and tugged
at the body of his dead relative. I shouted and he retreated
growling. The pony ran to a distance in terror. Presently the wolf