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 rifle which lay upon the bank nearby. He had barely raised it from the ground when a wolf came out of the thicket in full view. The animal had not seen him but seemed to scent him, for its hackles were up and its lips bared.

Ever since the battle which he and Silversheene had waged with the wolves, Richard had never lost a chance to shoot at a wolf, so he raised the rifle hurriedly and fired. The wolf sprang back into the thicket and disappeared and he did not see it again. Richard did not think any more of the incident until in the middle of the night, when he was awakened by the distant howling of a wolf. It was not the hunting cry, but just a long series of plaintive howls. Then he remembered the wolf that he had shot at. Perhaps he had wounded it, or maybe this was the mate. He had once read of a male wolf howling for its slain mate.

The following day Richard saw no more wolves, but that night at about nine o'clock