faint warmth enwrapping and reviving him! It was not the fatal illusion of those who are freezing to death. It was something outside himself. He savoured it as he drew in his breath. Then his woods-wise nostrils, long benumbed, suddenly regained their sensitiveness. They sniffed with enlightenment. There was no mistaking that pungent smell! McLaggan realized that he had fallen into the cave of a hibernating bear.
This meant food, strength, salvation! McLaggan's stiff fingers assured themselves that they still clutched his rifle. Stealthily he felt for his knife. It was in his belt. But it was no time for haste or blundering. He stifled the sudden rage of his hunger, silenced his harsh breathing, and listened. He remembered that by this time of year a bear would be nearing the end of its winter sleep and beginning to shake off its torpor. Perhaps this one was awake, and if so, a terrible antagonist at such close quarters! His ears strained intently. He caught a sound of suckling, a faint, small, sleepy whimper of content, a low, slow sound of deep-lunged breathing. The situation was clear to him on the instant. Certainly the owner of the cave was sleeping soundly, not to have been disturbed by his rude invasion of her fond home. McLaggan turned his head towards the direction of the sounds, and presently his eyes managed to distinguish their source.
