Kazan went off to his corner, and lay down.  Just as there had been some strange thing at the top of the Sun Rock to disturb him that day, so now there was a mystery that disturbed him in the cabin.  He sniffed the air, trying to fathom its secret.  Whatever it was, it seemed to make his mistress different, too.  And she was digging out all sorts of odds and ends of things about the cabin, and doing them up in packages.  Late that night, before she went to bed, Joan came and snuggled her hand close down beside him for a few moments.

“We’re going away,” she whispered, and there was a curious tremble that was almost a sob in her voice.  “We’re going home, Kazan.  We’re going away down where his people live—­where they have churches, and cities, and music, and all the beautiful things in the world.  And we’re going to take you, Kazan!”

Kazan didn’t understand.  But he was happy at having the woman so near to him, and talking to him.  At these times he forgot Gray Wolf.  The dog that was in him surged over his quarter-strain of wildness, and the woman and the baby alone filled his world.  But after Joan had gone to her bed, and all was quiet in the cabin, his old uneasiness returned.  He rose to his feet and moved stealthily about the cabin, sniffing at the walls, the door and the things his mistress had done into packages.  A low whine rose in his throat.  Joan, half asleep, heard it, and murmured:  “Be quiet, Kazan.  Go to sleep—­go to sleep—­”

Long after that, Kazan stood rigid in the center of the room, listening, trembling.  And faintly he heard, far away, the wailing cry of, Gray Wolf.  But to-night it was not the cry of loneliness.  It sent a thrill through him.  He ran to the door, and whined, but Joan was deep in slumber and did not hear him.  Once more he heard the cry, and only once.  Then the night grew still.  He crouched down near the door.

Joan found him there, still watchful, still listening, when she awoke in the early morning.  She came to open the door for him, and in a moment he was gone.  His feet seemed scarcely to touch the earth as he sped in the direction of the Sun Rock.  Across the plain he could see the cap of it already painted with a golden glow.

He came to the narrow winding trail, and wormed his way up it swiftly.

Gray Wolf was not at the top to greet him.  But he could smell her, and the scent of that other thing was strong in the air.  His muscles tightened; his legs grew tense.  Deep down in his chest there began the low rumble of a growl.  He knew now what that strange thing was that had haunted him, and made him uneasy.  It was life.  Something that lived and breathed had invaded the home which he and Gray Wolf had chosen.  He bared his long fangs, and a snarl of defiance drew back his lips.  Stiff-legged, prepared to spring, his neck and head reaching out, he approached the two rocks between which Gray Wolf had crept the night before.