With his little round eyes on the alert for fresh trouble he kept himself safely hidden while he watched Miki investigating the scene of battle.  From the body of the owl Miki went to Ahtik, and from Ahtik he sniffed slowly over the trail which Maheegun had taken into the bush.  In the edge of the cover he found Mispoon.  He did not go farther, but returned to Neewa, who by this time had made up his mind that he could safely come out into the open.

Fifty times that day Miki rushed to the defense of their meat.  The big-eyed, clucking moose-birds were most annoying.  Next to them the Canada jays were most persistent.  Twice a little gray-coated ermine, with eyes as red as garnets, came in to get his fill of blood.  Miki was at him so fiercely that he did not return a third time.  By noon the crows had got scent or sight of the carcass and were circling overhead, waiting for Neewa and Miki to disappear.  Later, they set up a raucous protest from the tops of the trees in the edge of the forest.

That night the wolves did not return to the dip.  Meat was too plentiful, and those that were over their gorge were off on a fresh kill far to the west.  Once or twice Neewa and Miki heard their distant cry.

Again through a star-filled radiant night they watched and listened, and slept at times.  In the soft gray dawn they went forth once more to their feast.

And here is where Makoki, the old Cree runner, would have emphasized the presence of the Beneficent Spirit.  For day followed day, and night followed night, and Ahtik’s flesh and blood put into Neewa and Miki a strength and growth that developed marvellously.  By the fourth day Neewa had become so fat and sleek that he was half again as big as on the day he fell out of the canoe.  Miki had begun to fill out.  His ribs could no longer be counted from a distance.  His chest was broadening and his legs were losing some of their angular clumsiness.  Practice on Ahtik’s bones had strengthened his jaws.  With his development he felt less and less the old puppyish desire to play—­more and more the restlessness of the hunter.  The fourth night he heard again the wailing hunt-cry of the wolves, and it held a wild and thrilling note for him.

With Neewa, fat and good humour and contentment were all synonymous.  As long as the meat held out there was no very great temptation for him beyond the dip and the slope.  Two or three times a day he went down to the creek; and every morning and afternoon—­especially about sunset—­he had his fun rolling downhill.  In addition to this he began taking his afternoon naps in the crotch of a small sapling.  As Miki could see neither sense nor sport in tobogganing, and as he could not climb a tree, he began to spend more and more time in venturing up and down the foot of the ridge.  He wanted Neewa to go with him on these expeditions.  He never set out until he had entreated Neewa to come down out of his tree, or until he had made an effort to coax him away from the single trail he had made to the creek and back.  Neewa’s obstinacy would never have brought about any real unpleasantness between them.  Miki thought too much of him for that; and if it had come to a final test, and Neewa had thought that Miki would not return, he would undoubtedly have followed him.