I could see their gleaming fangs.

Yes, I could HEAR their bodies, and he was talking to them and laughing with them through his great beard--and I turned and fled back to the cabin, running so swiftly that even the wolves would have had trouble in catching me.

And that--that--WAS NOT ALL!" Again his fingers were clenching and unclenching as he stared at Raine.
"You believe me, M'sieu ?" Philip nodded.
"It seems impossible.

And yet--you could not have been dreaming, Pierre." Breault drew a deep breath of satisfaction, and half rose to his feet.
"And you will believe me if I tell you the rest ?" "Yes." Swiftly Pierre went to his bunk and returned with the caribou skin pouch in which he carried his flint and steel and fire material for the trail.
"The next day I went back, M'sieu," he said, seating himself again opposite Philip.

"Bram and his wolves were gone.