Mooka as she watched him was brim full of an eagerness which swept away all fear.  “Tomah says, wolf and Injun hunt just alike; keep ver’ still; don’t trouble game ’cept when he hungry,” she whispered.  “Says too, Keesuolukh made us friends ’fore white man come, spoil um everything.  Das what Malsunsis say now wid hees tail and eyes; only way he can talk um, little brother.  No, no,”—­for Noel’s bow was still strongly bent,—­“you must not shoot.  Malsunsis think we friends.”  And trusting her own brave little heart she stepped in front of the deadly arrow and walked straight to the big wolf, which moved aside timidly and sat down again at a distance, with the friendly expression of a lost collie in eyes and ears and wagging tail tip.

Cheerfully enough Noel slacked his long bow, for the wonder of the woods was strong upon him, and the hunting-spirit, which leads one forth to frighten and kill and to break the blessed peace, had vanished in the better sense of comradeship which steals over one when he watches the Wood Folk alone and friendly in the midst of the solitudes.  As they went on their way again the big wolf trotted after them, keeping close to their trail but never crossing it, and occasionally ranging up alongside, as if to keep them in the right way.  Where the woods were thickest Noel, with no trail to guide him, swung uncertainly to left and right, peering through the trees for some landmark on the distant hills.  Twice the big wolf trotted out to one side, returned and trotted out again in the same direction; and Noel, taking the subtle hint, as an Indian always does, bore steadily to the right till the great ridge, beyond which the Lodge was hidden, loomed over the tree-tops.  And to this day he believes—­and it is impossible, for I have tried, to dissuade him—­that the wolf knew where they were going and tried in his own way to show them.

So they climbed the long ridge to the summit, and from the deep valley beyond the smoke of the Lodge rose up to guide them.  There the wolf stopped; and though Noel whistled and Mooka called cheerily, as they would to one of their own huskies that they had learned to love, Malsunsis would go no farther.  He sat there on the ridge, his tail sweeping a circle in the snow behind him, his ears cocked to the friendly call and his eyes following every step of the little hunters, till they vanished in the woods below.  Then he turned to follow his own way in the wilderness.

GLOSSARY OF INDIAN NAMES

Cheokhes, che-ok-h[)e]s’, the mink.

Cheplahgan, chep-lah’gan, the bald eagle.

Ch’geegee-lokh-sis, ch`gee-gee’lock-sis, the chickadee.

Chigwooltz, chig-wooltz’, the bullfrog.

Clote Scarpe, a legendary hero, like Hiawatha, of the Northern Indians. 
Pronounced variously, Clote Scarpe, Groscap, Gluscap, etc.

Commoosie, com-moo-sie’, a little shelter, or hut, of boughs and bark.