Rea hunted for dead wolves and found not so much as a piece of white fur.
Soon the hunters were speeding southward.

Other than a disposition to fight among themselves, the dogs showed no evil effects of the attack.
They were lashed to their best speed, for Rea said the white rangers of the north would never quit their trail.

All day the men listened for the wild, lonesome, haunting mourn.

But it came not.
A wonderful halo of white and gold, that Rea called a sun-dog, hung in the sky all afternoon, and dazzlingly bright over the dazzling world of snow circled and glowed a mocking sun, brother of the desert mirage, beautiful illusion, smiling cold out of the polar blue.
The first pale evening star twinkled in the east when the hunters made camp on the shore of Artilery Lake.

At dusk the clear, silent air opened to the sound of a long, haunting mourn.
"Ho! Ho!" called Rea.