It was moonless; but the stars shone like a billion distant lamps, flooding the world in a soft and billowy sea of light.

A gentle whisper of wind made pleasant sounds in the treetops.

Beyond that it was very quiet, for it was Puskowepesim--the Molting Moon--and the wolves were not hunting, the owls had lost their voice, the foxes slunk with the silence of shadows, and even the beavers had begun to cease their labors.

The horns of the moose, the deer, and the caribou were in tender velvet, and they moved but little and fought not at all.

It was late July, Molting Moon of the Cree, Moon of Silence for the Chipewyan.
In this silence Baree began to hunt.