CHAPTER EIGHT
Not until he had covered at least a quarter of a mile did Neewa stop.To Miki it seemed as though they had come suddenly out of day into thegloom of evening. That part of the forest into which Neewa's flight hadled them was like a vast, mysterious cavern. Even Challoner would havepaused there, awed by the grandeur of its silence, held spellbound bythe enigmatical whispers that made up its only sound. The sun was stillhigh in the heavens, but not a ray of it penetrated the dense greencanopy of spruce and balsam that hung like a wall over the heads ofMiki and Neewa. About them was no bush, no undergrowth; under theirfeet was not a flower or a spear of grass. Nothing but a thick, softcarpet of velvety brown needles under which all life was smothered. Itwas as if the forest nymphs had made of this their bedchamber,sheltered through all the seasons of the year from wind and rain andsnow; or else that the were-wolf people--the loup-garou--had chosen itas their hiding-place and from its weird and gloomy fastnesses wentforth on their ghostly missions among the sons of men.
Not a bird twittered in the trees. There was no flutter of life intheir crowded branches. Everything was so still that Miki heard theexcited throbbing of life in his own body. He looked at Neewa, and inthe gloom the cub's eyes were glistening with a strange fire. Neitherof them was afraid, yet in that cavernous silence their comradeship wasborn anew, and in it there was something now that crept down into theirwild little souls and filled the emptiness that was left by the deathof Neewa's mother and the loss of Miki's master. The pup whined gently,and in his throat Neewa made a purring sound and followed it with asqueaky grunt that was like the grunt of a little pig. They edgednearer, and stood shoulder to shoulder facing their world. They went onafter a little, like two children exploring the mystery of an old andabandoned house. They were not hunting, yet every hunting instinct intheir bodies was awake, and they stopped frequently to peer about them,and listen, and scent the air.
To Neewa it all brought back a memory of the black cavern in which hewas born. Would Noozak, his mother, come up presently out of one ofthose dark forest aisles? Was she sleeping here, as she had slept inthe darkness of their den? The questions may have come vaguely in hismind. For it was like the cavern, in that it was deathly still; and ashort distance away its gloom thickened into black pits. Such a placethe Indians called MUHNEDOO--a spot in the forest blasted of all lifeby the presence of devils; for only devils would grow trees so thickthat sunlight never penetrated. And only owls held the companionship ofthe evil spirits.
Where Neewa and Miki stood a grown wolf would have paused, and turnedback; the fox would have slunk away, hugging the ground; even themurderous-hearted little ermine would have peered in with his beady redeyes, unafraid, but turned by instinct back into the open timber. Forhere, in spite of the stillness and the gloom, THERE WAS LIFE. It wasbeating and waiting in the ambush of those black pits. It was rousingitself, even as Neewa and Miki went on deeper into the silence, andeyes that were like round balls were beginning to glow with a greenishfire. Still there was no sound, no movement in the dense overgrowth ofthe trees. Like the imps of MUHNEDOO the monster owls looked down,gathering their slow wits--and waiting.
And then a huge shadow floated out of the dark chaos and passed soclose over the heads of Neewa and Miki that they heard the menacingpurr of giant wings. As the wraith-like creature disappeared there cameback to them a hiss and the grating snap of a powerful beak. It sent ashiver through Miki. The instinct that had been fighting to rouseitself within him flared up like a powder-flash. Instantly he sensedthe nearness of an unknown and appalling danger.
There was sound about them now--movement in the trees, ghostly tremoursin the air, and the crackling, metallic SNAP--SNAP--SNAP over theirheads. Again Miki saw the great shadow come and go. It was followed bya second, and a third, until the vault under the trees seemed filledwith shadows; and with each shadow came nearer that grating menace ofpowerfully beaked jaws. Like the wolf and the fox he cringed down,hugging the earth. But it was no longer with the whimpering fear of thepup. His muscles were drawn tight, and with a snarl he bared his fangswhen one of the owls swooped so low that he felt the beat of its wings.Neewa responded with a sniff that a little later in his life would havebeen the defiant WHOOF of his mother. Bear-like he was standing up. Andit was upon him that one of the shadows descended--a monstrousfeathered bolt straight out of darkness.
Six feet away Miki's blazing eyes saw his comrade smothered under agray mass, and for a moment or two he was held appalled and lifeless bythe thunderous beat of the gargantuan wings. No sound came from Neewa.Flung on his back, he was digging his claws into feathers so thick andsoft that they seemed to have no heart or flesh. He felt upon him thepresence of the Thing that was death. The beat of the wings was likethe beat of clubs: they drove the breath out of his body, they blindedhis senses, yet he continued to tear fiercely with his claws into afleshless breast.
In his first savage swoop Oohoomisew, whose great wings measured fivefeet from tip to tip, had missed his death-grip by the fraction of aninch. His powerful talons that would have buried themselves like knivesin Neewa's vitals closed too soon, and were filled with the cub's thickhair and loose hide. Now he was beating his prey down with his wingsuntil the right moment came for him to finish the killing with theterrific stabbing of his beak. Half a minute of that and Neewa's facewould be torn into pieces.
It was the fact that Neewa made no sound, that no cry came from him,that brought Miki to his feet with his lips drawn back and a snarl inhis throat. All at once fear went out of him and in its place came awild and almost joyous exultation. He recognized their enemy--A BIRD.To him birds were a prey, and not a menace. A dozen times in theirjourney down from the Upper Country Challoner had shot big Canada geeseand huge-winged cranes. Miki had eaten their flesh. Twice he hadpursued wounded cranes, yapping at the top of his voice, AND THEY HADRUN FROM HIM. He did not bark or yelp now. Like a flash he launchedhimself into the feathered mass of the owl. His fourteen pounds offlesh and bone landed with the force of a stone, and Oohoomisew wastorn from his hold and flung with a great flutter of wings upon hisside.
Before he could recover his balance Miki was at him again, strikingfull at his head, where he had struck at the wounded crane. Oohoomisewwent flat on his back--and for the first time Miki let out of histhroat a series of savage and snarling yelps. It was a new sound toOohoomisew and his blood-thirsty brethren watching the struggle fromout of the gloom. The snapping beaks drifted farther away, andOohoomisew, with a sudden sweep of wings, vaulted into the air.
With his big forefeet planted firmly and his snarling face turned up tothe black wall of the tree-tops Miki continued to bark and howldefiantly. He wanted the bird to come back. He wanted to tear and ripat its feathers, and as he sent out his frantic challenge Neewa rolledover, got on his feet, and with a warning squeal to Miki once more setoff in flight. If Miki was ignorant in the matter, HE at leastunderstood the situation. Again it was the instinct born of countlessgenerations. He knew that in the black pits about them hovereddeath--and he ran as he had never run before in his life. As Mikifollowed, the shadows were beginning to float nearer again.
Ahead of them they saw a glimmer of sunshine. The trees grew taller,and soon the day began breaking through so that there were no longerthe cavernous hollows of gloom about them. If they had gone on anotherhundred yards they would have come to the edge of the big plain, thehunting grounds of the owls. But the flame of self-preservation was hotin Neewa's head; he was still dazed by the thunderous beat of wings;his sides burned where Oohoomisew's talons had scarred his flesh; so,when he saw in his path a tangled windfall of tree trunks he dived intothe security of it so swiftly that for a moment or two Miki wonderedwhere he had gone.
Crawling into the windfall after him Miki turned and poked out hishead. He was not satisfied. His lips were still drawn back, and hecontinued to growl. He had beaten his enemy. He had knocked it overfairly, and had filled his jaws with its feathers. In the face of thattriumph he sensed the fact
that he had run away in following Neewa, andhe was possessed with the desire to go back and have it out to afinish. It was the blood of the Airedale and the Spitz growing strongerin him, fearless of defeat; the blood of his father, the gianthunting-hound Hela. It was the demand of his breed, with its mixture ofwolfish courage and fox-like persistency backed by the powerful jawsand Herculean strength of the Mackenzie hound, and if Neewa had notdrawn deeper under the windfall he would have gone out again and yelpedhis challenge to the feathered things from which they had fled.
Neewa was smarting under the red-hot stab of Oohoomisew's talons, andhe wanted no more of the fight that came out of the air. He beganlicking his wounds, and after a while Miki went back to him and smelledof the fresh, warm blood. It made him growl. He knew that it wasNeewa's blood, and his eyes glowed like twin balls of fire as theywatched the opening through which they had entered into the dark tangleof fallen trees.
For an hour he did not move, and in that hour, as in the hour after thekilling of the rabbit, he GREW. When at last he crept out cautiouslyfrom under the windfall the sun was sinking behind the western forests.He peered about him, watching for movement and listening for sound. Thesagging and apologetic posture of puppyhood was gone from him. Hisovergrown feet stood squarely on the ground; his angular legs were ashard as if carven out of knotty wood; his body was tense, his earsstood up, his head was rigidly set between the bony shoulders thatalready gave evidence of gigantic strength to come. About him he knewwas the Big Adventure. The world was no longer a world of play and ofsnuggling under the hands of a master. Something vastly more thrillinghad come into it now.
After a time he dropped on his belly close to the opening under thewindfall and began chewing at the end of rope which dragged from abouthis neck. The sun sank lower. It disappeared. Still he waited for Neewato come out and lie with him in the open. As the twilight thickenedinto deeper gloom he drew himself into the edge of the door under thewindfall and found Neewa there. Together they peered forth into themysterious night.
For a time there was the utter stillness of the first hour of darknessin the northland. Up in the clear sky the stars came out in twos andthen in glowing constellations. There was an early moon. It was alreadyover the edge of the forests, flooding the world with a golden glow,and in that glow the night was filled with grotesque black shadows thathad neither movement nor sound. Then the silence was broken. From outof the owl-infested pits came a strange and hollow sound. Miki hadheard the shrill screeching and the TU-WHO-O-O, TU-WHO-O-O, TU-WHO-O-Oof the little owls, the trap-pirates, but never this voice of thestrong-winged Jezebels and Frankensteins of the deeper forests--thereal butchers of the night. It was a hollow, throaty sound--more a moanthan a cry; a moan so short and low that it seemed born of caution, orof fear that it would frighten possible prey. For a few minutes pitafter pit gave forth each its signal of life, and then there was asilence of voice, broken at intervals by the faint, crashing sweep ofgreat wings in the spruce and balsam tops as the hunters launchedthemselves up and over them in the direction of the plain.
The going forth of the owls was only the beginning of the nightcarnival for Neewa and Miki. For a long time they lay side by side,sleepless, and listening. Past the windfall went the padded feet of afisher-cat, and they caught the scent of it; to them came the far cryof a loon, the yapping of a restless fox, and the MOOING of a cow moosefeeding in the edge of a lake on the farther side of the plain. Andthen, at last, came the thing that made their blood run faster and senta deeper thrill into their hearts.
It seemed a vast distance away at first--the hot throated cry of wolveson the trail of meat. It was swinging northward into the plain, andthis shortly brought the cry with the wind, which was out of the northand the west. The howling of the pack was very distinct after that, andin Miki's brain nebulous visions and almost unintelligible memorieswere swiftly wakening into life. It was not Challoner's voice that heheard, but it was A VOICE THAT HE KNEW. It was the voice of Hela, hisgiant father; the voice of Numa, his mother; the voice of his kind fora hundred and a thousand generations before him, and it was theinstinct of those generations and the hazy memory of his earliestpuppyhood that were impinging the thing upon him. A little later itwould take both intelligence and experience to make him discriminatethe hair-breadth difference between wolf and dog. And this voice of hisblood was COMING! It bore down upon them swiftly, fierce and filledwith the blood-lust of hunger. He forgot Neewa. He did not observe thecub when he slunk back deeper under the windfall. He rose up on hisfeet and stood stiff and tense, unconscious of all things but thatthrilling tongue of the hunt-pack.
Wind-broken, his strength failing him, and his eyes wildly searchingthe night ahead for the gleam of water that might save him, Ahtik, theyoung caribou bull, raced for his life a hundred yards ahead of thewolves. The pack had already flung itself out in the form of ahorse-shoe, and the two ends were beginning to creep up abreast ofAhtik, ready to close in for the hamstring--and the kill. In these lastminutes every throat was silent, and the young bull sensed thebeginning of the end. Desperately he turned to the right and plungedinto the forest.
Miki heard the crash of his body and he hugged close to the windfall.Ten seconds later Ahtik passed within fifty feet of him, a huge andgrotesque form in the moonlight, his coughing breath filled with theagony and hopelessness of approaching death. As swiftly as he had comehe was gone, and in his place followed half a score of noiselessshadows passing so quickly that to Miki they were like the coming andthe going of the wind.
For many minutes after that he stood and listened but again silence hadfallen upon the night. After a little he went back into the windfalland lay down beside Neewa.
Hours that followed he passed in restless snatches of slumber. Hedreamed of things that he had forgotten. He dreamed of Challoner. Hedreamed of chill nights and the big fires; he heard his master's voiceand he felt again the touch of his hand; but over it all and through itall ran that wild hunting voice of his own kind.
In the early dawn he came out from under the windfall and smelled ofthe trail where the wolves and the caribou had passed. Heretofore itwas Neewa who had led in their wandering; now it was Neewa thatfollowed. His nostrils filled with the heavy scent of the pack, Mikitravelled steadily in the direction of the plain. It took him half anhour to reach the edge of it. After that he came to a wide and stonyout-cropping of the earth over which he nosed the spoor to a low andabrupt descent into the wider range of the valley.
Here he stopped.
Twenty feet under him and fifty feet away lay the partly devouredcarcass of the young bull. It was not this fact that thrilled him untilhis heart stood still. From out of the bushy plain had come Maheegun, arenegade she-wolf, to fill herself of the meat which she had not helpedto kill. She was a slinking, hollow-backed, quick-fanged creature,still rib-thin from the sickness that had come of eating a poison-bait;a beast shunned by her own kind--a coward, a murderess even of her ownwhelps. But she was none of these things to Miki. In her he saw inliving flesh and bone what his memory and his instinct recalled to himof his mother. And his mother had come before Challoner, his master.
For a minute or two he lay trembling, and then he went down, as hewould have gone to Challoner; with great caution, with a wildersuspense, but with a strange yearning within him that the man'spresence would have failed to rouse. He was very close to Maheegunbefore she was conscious that he was near. The Mother-smell was warm inhis nose now; it filled him with a great joy; and yet--he was afraid.But it was not a physical fear. Flattened on the ground, with his headbetween his fore-paws, he whined.
Like a flash the she-wolf turned, her fangs bared the length of herjaws and her bloodshot eyes aglow with menace and suspicion. Miki hadno time to make a move or another sound. With the suddenness of a catthe outcast creature was upon him. Her fangs slashed him just once--andshe was gone. Her teeth had drawn blood from his shoulder, but it wasnot the smart of the wound that held him for many moments as still asif dead. The Mother-smell was
still where Maheegun had been. But hisdreams had crumbled. The thing that had been Memory died away at lastin a deep breath that was broken by a whimper of pain. For him, even asfor Neewa, there was no more a Challoner, and no longer a mother. Butthere remained--the world! In it the sun was rising. Out of it came thethrill and the perfume of life. And close to him--very close--was therich, sweet smell of meat.
He sniffed hungrily. Then he turned, and saw Neewa's black and pudgybody tumbling down the slope of the dip to join him in the feast.