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 it mean? Was it just an accident, or was a small pack of gray marauders following him? What could be their object? They were natural prowlers. Did they contemplate creeping upon him at night and killing him? He had never heard of such a thing, but it would be well to keep his campfire burning while he slept. That would fix them.

Promptly at nine that evening he again heard the long plaintive howling of the wolf, and, in spite of all he could do, it got on his nerves. So he piled more fagots on the campfire and finally went to sleep. But his last remembrance was of a plaintive, long-drawn howl. The following day he rose early and started for the little stream for more fresh water. He had not gone far from his camp when something on the ground arrested his attention. It was the paw print of a great wolf plainly registered on a last year's dead leaf and near it were other tracks.

"By Godfrey, this is getting exciting," he