the sill. The flood of relief that surged through her was like a blessing. She put her arms around the dog.
“Poor Flash,” she said. “Poor Flash. It chased you home. Did it nearly catch you, old boy?”
Flash did not seem troubled. On the contrary he sprawled in front of the fire and blinked contentedly up at her. His mood was mellow, for he had dined well, and his placid calm reassured the girl for she knew that if danger lurked just outside Flash would be bristling and alert.
She spread her blanket on the bunk and the rough boards felt soft. The last sight that her drowsy eyes rested upon before she slept the sleep of utter exhaustion was the peacefully dozing dog before the fire. It was well for her peace of mind that she did not suspect the truth; that the soul chilling cry had been his own imploring message to a long lost mate—the summons to come and feast upon the elk he had torn down with his savage teeth.
She slept on soundly until the dog’s restless wanderings about the room aroused her to the light of day. Every muscle ached from the night on the hard bunk and her first task after breakfast
