He was straining his ears so tensely to hear, and his eyes to see, that he forgot the soreness of his knees and ankles.

Now and then the dogs stopped while Mukoki and the Missioner dragged a log or a bit of brushwood from their path.

During one of these intervals there came to them, from a great distance, a long, mournful howl.
"A wolf!" said Father Roland, his face a gray shadow as he nodded at David.

"Listen!" From behind them came another cry.

It was Baree.
They went on, circling around the edge of a great windfall.