The Winslow mail., 1917-02-23
TRUE AT The LAST
WoIf-Dog Deserted Master, Bu'
Still Loved Him.
Answered "CalI of His Fathers
Though He Proved Loyal When
Loyalty Meant Death by the
Fanes of His Pack.

FanGS OF His Pack.
He had been called Wolf since pup
pyhoOd. He stood nearly forty inches
with a small ragged, rail-like body, ant
unusually long legs that ended in great
soft, padlike feet. Jack Stern, Steve
Wormell's partner, used to say tha
the dog could not turn round in theiI
"tWo-by four" cabin without knocking
over the table and chairs and seriously
endangering the stove and other furni'
ture.
One evening, as Steve and JACK sal
playing a game of cribbage in theil
ranger cabin, a wolf hOwled lugubri
0usly from the mountain side After 6
moment came the answer; then an
other caught up the call, and another
until the lonesome wall echoed from
mountain top to mountain top.
Suddenly there came howl, nearer
and more deep-thrOated.
Stern opened the door.
"Come here, Steve!' he said, anG
the ranger stepped to his side.
On a small, treeless mound, not fal
from the cabin, sat Wolf. He was
squatting on his launches, with his
nose pointed toward the sky, while
from his throat came a cry quite un-
like his usual howl.
"It's the call of his fathers, Steve"
said Jack. "Some day you'll have 40
dog; he'll be gone with the pack"
Steve laughed at the idea. He had
brought Wolf, an awkward, bench-leg-
ged puppy, out to the ranger cabin in a
sack the dog had always been faith
full and contented with his lot.
But one morning in the spring Wolf
was missing.
At first Steve clung to the hope that
Wolf would return when the running"
season was over. He had heard Of
dogs doing that. But spring merged
into summer, and summer into fall, yet
the dog did not come back.
Then they began to hear that Wolf
had been seen running at the head of a
small band of wolves, although they
never found a man who had actually
seen him.
About Christmas time, when the
snow was deeper than for many win
ters past, prowling bands of wolves be-
gan to come down near the camp.
One day Steve found that a large
bull elk had been killed within a mile
of camp Signs of the struggle were
10 be seen for hundred yards round.
Near the scattered bones of the elk
were the disembOwled remains of two
wolves. little farther along a young
cow elk had fallen beneath the fangs
of the mountain bandits. And at each
kill Steve found a large track, twice
the size of that made by common
wolf
When the snow had crusted so that
it would bear up the weight of a man,
Steve threw his rifle across his arm
and walked over to the breaks of the
Grande Ronde. He was nearing the
broken lands when the sound of a run
ming pack came to his ears. moment
later small band of wolves, perhaps
fifteen in number, burst from the tim
Der, running toward him. And at their
head ran Wolf.
The ranger forgot his danger He
cried, wolf don't you know me?"
The sound of his voice brought the
great dog to standstill, and the pack
stopped with him. Nose in the air,
sides aquiver, he stood moment !;
then, with low bay of recognition, he
sprang toward his one-time master.
The pack, evidently mistaking their
leaders intention, likewise rushed at
Steve. And the next instant with his
gun dubbed, he was in the midst of a
,Snarling, swapping mass of famine
Crazed wolves.
When Jack arrived on the scene he
found Steve sitting in the snow, with
the shaggy head of Wolf pillowed in
his lap. Around him, with their NANCY
pelts torn and bloody lay half dozen
dead wolves.
The rangers clothing was torn to
shreds and one arm and leg were a
mass of cuts and gashes; but there
were tears in his eyes.
'He fought for me, Jack" he said,
pressing the stiffening lids over the
glazed eyes of the dead hound "He
gave his life for me. How he fought !!
And against his own blood, too. Yon-
der lies one of his own pups. Why
shouldn't | love m?'-Youth's Com
panion.