farther on they found, lying on the snow, a couple of caribou carcasses
that he had shot. Strange to say, the animals had not been skinned,
nor had their tongues been removed. More remarkable still, the
wolf--although passing close to them--had not stopped to feed. Soon
they came upon another dead caribou, and this time Pot-fighter's-father
had skinned it, and had cut out its tongue; but again the wolf had
refused to touch the deer.

Continuing their pursuit, they discovered a brush windbreak where the
hunter had evidently stopped to camp for the night. Now they noticed
that the tracks of the wolf took to cover among the scrub. Approaching
the shelter, they read in the snow the signs of a terrible struggle
between a man and a wolf. The hunter's gun, snowshoes, and sash
containing his knife, rested against the windbreak, and his axe stood
in the snow where he had been cutting brush. From the snow the Indians
read the story of the long-drawn fight. Here it told how the great
wolf had leaped upon the back of the unsuspecting man while he was
carrying an armful of brush, and had knocked him down. There it showed
that the man had grappled with the brute and rolled it over upon its
back. Here the signs showed that the wolf had broken free; there, that
the two had grappled again, and in their struggle had rolled over and
over. The snow was now strewn with wolf-hair, and dyed with blood.
While the dreadful encounter had raged, the battleground had kept
steadily shifting nearer the gun. Just a couple of yards away from it
lay the frozen body of poor old Pot-fighter's-father. His deerskin
clothing was slit to tatters; his scalp was torn away; his fingers were
chewed off, but his bloody mouth was filled with hair and flesh of the
wolf.

After burying the body of old Pot-fighter's-father in a mound of