Nanette, the woman, saw Jacques come out of the edge of the timber late in the afternoon, dragging something on the snow behind him.

In her heart, ever since her husband had begun to talk about him, she had kept secret to herself a pity for the wild dog.

Long before the last baby had come she had loved a dog.

It was this dog that had given her the only real affection she had known in the company of The Brute, and with barbarous cruelty Le Beau had driven it from her.

Nanette herself had encouraged it to seek freedom in the wilderness, as Netah had at last sought his.