the confession.

At this instant a most whimsical variety of voices--barks, howls, yelps,
and whines--all mingled as it were together, sounded from the prairie,
not far off, as if a whole conclave of wolves of every age and sex were
assembled there. Delorier looked up from his work with a laugh, and
began to imitate this curious medley of sounds with a most ludicrous
accuracy. At this they were repeated with redoubled emphasis, the
musician being apparently indignant at the successful efforts of a
rival. They all proceeded from the throat of one little wolf, not
larger than a spaniel, seated by himself at some distance. He was of
the species called the prairie wolf; a grim-visaged, but harmless little
brute, whose worst propensity is creeping among horses and gnawing the
ropes of raw hide by which they are picketed around the camp. But
other beasts roam the prairies, far more formidable in aspect and in
character. These are the large white and gray wolves, whose deep howl we
heard at intervals from far and near.

At last I fell into a doze, and, awakening from it, found Delorier
fast asleep. Scandalized by this breach of discipline, I was about to
stimulate his vigilance by stirring him with the stock of my rifle; but
compassion prevailing, I determined to let him sleep awhile, and then to
arouse him, and administer a suitable reproof for such a forgetfulness
of duty. Now and then I walked the rounds among the silent horses, to
see that all was right. The night was chill, damp, and dark, the dank
grass bending under the icy dewdrops. At the distance of a rod or two
the tents were invisible, and nothing could be seen but the obscure
figures of the horses, deeply breathing, and restlessly starting as they
slept, or still slowly champing the grass. Far off, beyond the black
outline of the prairie, there was a ruddy light, gradually increasing,