Baree wanted to approach.  It was like an invisible string tugging at his very heart.  It was Kazan, and not Gray Wolf, calling to him back through the centuries, a “call” that was as old as the Egyptian pyramids and perhaps ten thousand years older.  But against that desire Gray Wolf was pulling from out the black ages of the forests.  The wolf held him quiet and motionless.  Nepeese was looking about her.  She was smiling.  For a moment her face was turned toward him, and he saw the white shine of her teeth, and her beautiful eyes seemed glowing straight at him.

And then, suddenly, she dropped on her knees and peered under the rock.

Their eyes met.  For at least half a minute there was not a sound.  Nepeese did not move, and her breath came so softly that Baree could not hear it.

Then she said, almost in a whisper: 

“Baree!  Baree!  Upi Baree!”

It was the first time Baree had heard his name, and there was something so soft and assuring in the sound of it that in spite of himself the dog in him responded to it in a whimper that just reached the Willow’s ears.  Slowly she stretched in an arm.  It was bare and round and soft.  He might have darted forward the length of his body and buried his fangs in it easily.  But something held him back.  He knew that it was not an enemy.  He knew that the dark eyes shining at him so wonderfully were not filled with the desire to harm—­and the voice that came to him softly was like a strange and thrilling music.

“Baree!  Baree!  Upi Baree!”

Over and over again the Willow called to him like that, while on her face she tried to draw herself a few inches farther under the rock.  She could not reach him.  There was still a foot between her hand and Baree, and she could not wedge herself forward an inch more.  And then she saw where on the other side of the rock there was a hollow, shut in by a stone.  If she had removed the stone, and come in that way—­

She drew herself out and stood once more in the sunshine.  Her heart thrilled.  Pierrot was busy over his bear—­and she would not call him.  She made an effort to move the stone which closed in the hollow under the big boulder, but it was wedged in tightly.  Then she began digging with a stick.  If Pierrot had been there, his sharp eyes would have discovered the significance of that stone, which was not larger than a water pail.  Possibly for centuries it had lain there, its support keeping the huge rock from toppling down, just as an ounce weight may swing the balance of a wheel that weighs a ton.

Five minutes—­and Nepeese could move the stone.  She tugged at it.  Inch by inch she dragged it out until at last it lay at her feet and the opening was ready for her body.  She looked again toward Pierrot.  He was still busy, and she laughed softly as she untied a big red-and-white Bay handkerchief from about her shoulders.  With this she would secure Baree.  She dropped on her hands and knees and then lowered herself flat on the ground and began crawling into the hollow under the boulder.