In their light he could see the cage, and he stood, watching and listening.

A sound came to him.
It was Gray Wolf gnawing at the sapling bars of her prison.

A moment later there came a low sobbing whine, and he knew that it was Kazan crying for his freedom.
Leaning against the side of the cabin was an ax.

Weyman seized it, and his lips smiled silently.

He was thrilled by a strange happiness, and a thousand miles away in that city on the Saskatchewan he could feel another spirit rejoicing with him.