It was so dark I could not see them. I went to
the kill then, and--yes, he had carried away the two hind quarters
of the caribou. It was a bull, too, and heavy. I followed--clean
across that strip of Barren down to the timber, and it was there
that Bram built himself the fire. I could see him then, and I
swear by the Blessed Virgin that it was Bram! Long ago, before he
killed the man, he came twice to my cabin--and he had not
changed. And around him, in the fire-glow, the wolves huddled. It
was then that I came to my reason. I could see him fondling them.
I could see their gleaming fangs. Yes, I could HEAR their bodies,
and he was talking to them and laughing with them through his
great beard--and I turned and fled back to the cabin, running so
swiftly that even the wolves would have had trouble in catching
me. And that--that--WAS NOT ALL!"
Again his fingers were clenching and unclenching as he stared at
Raine.
"You believe me, M'sieu?"
Philip nodded.
"It seems impossible. And yet--you could not have been dreaming,
Pierre.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35