struggling to solve a great mystery--the reason for his desire to creep
out from under his rock and approach that wonderful creature with the
shining eyes and the beautiful hair.

Baree wanted to approach. It was like an invisible string tugging at
his very heart. It was Kazan, and not Gray Wolf, calling to him back
through the centuries, a "call" that was as old as the Egyptian
pyramids and perhaps ten thousand years older. But against that desire
Gray Wolf was pulling from out the black ages of the forests. The wolf
held him quiet and motionless. Nepeese was looking about her. She was
smiling. For a moment her face was turned toward him, and he saw the
white shine of her teeth, and her beautiful eyes seemed glowing
straight at him.

And then, suddenly, she dropped on her knees and peered under the rock.

Their eyes met. For at least half a minute there was not a sound.
Nepeese did not move, and her breath came so softly that Baree could
not hear it.

Then she said, almost in a whisper:

"Baree! Baree! Upi Baree!"

It was the first time Baree had heard his name, and there was something
so soft and assuring in the sound of it that in spite of himself the
dog in him responded to it in a whimper that just reached the Willow's
ears. Slowly she stretched in an arm. It was bare and round and soft.
He might have darted forward the length of his body and buried his
fangs in it easily. But something held him back. He knew that it was