self, but a safe plaything for the five young wolflings which she loved so dearly. S

t cheeks as the wolf ran swiftly on. It was too dark for him to see where he was, or he might have been frightened into fits. He put up his two little chubb

rs were already on her track. She could hear the baying of the dogs, and darting down the river-bank, hid herself in a natural hollow formed by

le, with long trailing creepers for fly-curtains, and the softe

leep in a shallow watercourse when the heat and the insects become intolerabl

ling cleverly upon her pursuers, made her way to the hills, where her mate was keeping watch over the precious wolflings. A run of five miles through the morning ai

e their retreat. The gorge was narrow at the entrance, and partly filled up by dislodged stone

ich clothed them, the hottest rays of the midday sun could scarcely penetrate. Now, at that early hour, it was so dark Carl could distinguish nothing but a dog-like form. He was still dreaming of his faithful Sailo

flowers, under bush and over brake, he became smeared all over. This was his safeguard. Wolves live for the night, and trust to their own keen scent t

number gets into a fight, and becomes smeared with the blood of their prey, the rest

a warm and loving heart beneath its shaggy coat. The nobility of the dog is in it; and

they touched the ground, forming a leafy tent so thick and dark and cool no rain could filter through, an

a hole and lined it with the softest moss they could find, and the wolf-

up with a stretch as she dropped the child into the midst of the pricking ears and wagging tails. She had brought Carl to her wolflings as a cat brings a mouse to her kittens, to teach them how to kill and

hen Carl cried, not knowing what to make of such strange surrou

ry time the small lips puckered, half in fear, and more than half in anger, because nobody came to fet

also found a pillow on that hairy shoulder. Sleeping in the dark on the dewy moss, Carl dreamed of Sailor in a rougher coat, and waked to find his dre

he savage face, he m

courage and presence of mind to try it. It is just another proof that love, which is stronger than death, is also stronger than the savage instincts of wo

ny a story is told under the banyan trees of Bengal of ch

savage creature looked on

om the rocks above the korinda bush. Ripe mangoes dropped from the trees around, and lay ready to his baby hand in the drying grass, and other wild fruits ripened and fell around him as the summer days went on. It m

a straggling sunbeam happened to penetrate. Carl might shriek with terror when he heard the tigers grunting in the bed of the stream, as the search for water grew more difficult every day, or the "Ugh! ugh!" of a grizzly bear in search of the

r other wolflings, that Old Gray Legs and his mate kept him

ness, and if some echo of a hunter's cry did occas

nd the reach of all who loved him so dearly. As the weeks went on he forg

t of human

ish his jou

he sweet mus

t the sound

l him over. Besides, it was often much easier to crawl than to walk in that trackless wild of fallen rocks and marshy swamps, where

ze of the noonday sun shot a swift ray across the drying watercourse, where a fallen tree made a break in the thick masses of leaves that for the most part shut out sky and sun altogether. He would scramble over the rough ground, attracted by its brilliancy, and then, half-blinded by the unaccustomed light, stumble and fall. Many a sad hurt befell him, and many a time Old Gray Legs fetched him home; many a fight he

dried up the last and deepest pool, which had remained to mark the course of the once dashing torrent. The blackening grasses rustled as the wolves

, and Carl was as unwilling to be left behind as the gray wolf was to leave him. Out, out he went into the silvery moonlight, led by the two old wolves into the very midst of the pack, catching something of the excitement of the hunt as the

n trembling fear; and yet a bit of white rag fluttering at the end of a tall bamboo would hav

ing into the air, and leaping like the young fawn they were p

scampered off suddenly at the unwelcome sound of t

ith which the hills abounded. But the sight of the turbaned heads and the dusky faces, the bare black arms poising the long bamboo-handled spears, and the sound of their unearthly cries, aro

urning wolves, hemming him round as they would th

t him out of the fray unhurt, although the Rana's spea

or beater, who had thrown the spear-"a child of the fair people