Baree, son of Kazan

No longer, as in the days of old, did the darkness of the forests hold a fear for Baree. This night his hunt-cry had risen to the stars and the moon, and in that cry he had, for...

Baree’s fight with Oohoomisew was good medicine for him. It not only gave him great confidence in himself, but it also cleared the fever of ugliness from his blood. He no longer...

While lovely Nepeese was shuddering over her thrilling experience under the rock—while Pierrot still offered grateful thanks in his prayers for her deliverance and Baree was bec...

To Papayuchisew, after his first mouthful of water, the stream was almost as safe as the air, for he went sailing down it with the lightness of a gull, wondering in his slow-thi...

At the cabin on the Gray Loon, on the fourth night of Baree’s absence, Pierrot was smoking his pipe after a great supper of caribou tenderloin he had brought in from the trail,...

The trap-line of Pierre Eustach ran thirty miles straight west of Lac Bain. It was not as long a line as Pierrot’s had been, but it was like a main artery running through the he...

For two or three days Baree’s excursions after food took him farther and farther away from the pond. But each afternoon he returned to it—until the third day, when he discovered...

When Baree ventured forth from under his rock at the beginning of the next day, he was a much older puppy than when he met Papayuchisew, the young owl, in his path near the old...

From the edge of the open Pierrot saw what had happened, and he gave a great gasp. He drew back among the balsams. This was not a moment for him to show himself. While his heart...

As the Willow pulled the trigger of her rifle, Baree sprang into the air. He felt the force of the bullet before he heard the report of the gun. It lifted him off his feet, and...

No man has ever looked clearly into the mystery of death as it is impinged upon the senses of the northern dog. It comes to him, sometimes, with the wind; most frequently it mus...

A moment later the Factor from Lac Bain stood at the edge of the chasm. His voice had called out in a hoarse bellow—a wild cry of disbelief and horror that had formed the Willow...

That night there was a new campfire in the open. It was not a small fire, built with the fear that other eyes might see it, but a fire that sent its flames high. In the glow of...

And it was a wonderful world—a world of vast silence, empty of everything but the creatures of the wild. The nearest Hudson’s Bay post was a hundred miles away, and the first to...

Impelled by the wild alarm of the Willow’s terrible cries and the sight of Pierrot dashing madly toward him from the dead body of Wakayoo, Baree did not stop running until it se...

During that terrible space which followed an eternity of time rolled slowly through the little cabin on the Gray Loon—that eternity which lies somewhere between life and death a...

Back to Lac Bain, late in September, came MacDonald the map-maker. For ten days Gregson, the investigating agent, had been Bush McTaggart’s guest at the post, and twice in that...

It was early in August when Baree left the Gray Loon. He had no objective in view. But there was still left upon his mind, like the delicate impression of light and shadow on a...

From the window, her face screened by the folds of the curtain which she had made for it, the Willow saw what happened outside. She was not smiling now. She was breathing quickl...

By the middle of January the war between Baree and Bush McTaggart had become more than an incident—more than a passing adventure to the beast, and more than an irritating happen...

Baree was on his feet, rigid as hewn rock, when Carvel came out of the tent, and for a few moments Carvel stood in silence, watching him closely. Would the dog respond to the ca...

As Nepeese gazed about the rock-walled end of the cañon, the prison into which they had driven Wakayoo and Baree, Pierrot looked up again from his skinning of the big black bear...

It was the beginning of August—the Flying-up Moon—when Pierrot returned from Lac Bain, and in three days more it would be the Willow’s seventeenth birthday. He brought back with...

Jim Carvel held out his hand, and the snarl that was in Baree’s throat died away. The man rose to his feet. He stood there, looking in the direction taken by Bush McTaggart, and...

The next morning Bush McTaggart heard the clanking of a chain when he was still a good quarter of a mile from the “nest.” Was it a lynx? Was it a fisher-cat? Was it a wolf or a...

For a long time after Pierrot left them the Willow did not move from where she had seated herself beside Baree. It was at last the deepening shadows and a near rumble in the sky...

During these first days of his life his home was in the heart of a great windfall where Gray Wolf, his blind mother, had found a safe nest for his babyhood, and to which Kazan,...

Just as in the life of every man there is one big, controlling influence, either for good or bad, so in the life of Baree the beaver-pond was largely an arbiter of destiny. Wher...

A strange humour possessed Carvel as he began the southward journey. He did not believe in omens, good or bad. Superstition had played a small part in his life, but he possessed...

The Willow’s back was toward the door when the Factor from Lac Bain entered the cabin, and for a few startled seconds she did not turn. Her first thought was of Pierrot—for some...

Half an hour later Rush McTaggart’s fire was burning brightly again. In the glow of it Baree lay trussed up like an Indian papoose, tied into a balloon-shaped ball with _babiche...