When it dropped behind the wilderness in this manner, the Indians called it the Bleeding Moon, and the air was filled with omens.
All the next day Gray Wolf was nervous, and toward noon Kazan caught in the air the warning that she had sensed many hours ahead of him.
Steadily the scent grew stronger, and by the middle of the afternoon the sun was veiled by a film of smoke.
The flight of the wild things from the triangle of forest between the junctions of the Pipestone and Cree Rivers would have begun then, but the wind shifted.

It was a fatal shift.

The fire was raging from the west and south.

Then the wind swept straight eastward, carrying the smoke with it, and during this breathing spell all the wild creatures in the triangle between the two rivers waited.

This gave the fire time to sweep completely, across the base of the forest triangle, cutting off the last trails of escape.
Then the wind shifted again, and the fire swept north.