Awaking next morning much refreshed, but with a keen appetite for more grouse¹, Dan Davidson sat up and reflected. He felt that, although refreshed, the great weakness resulting from excessive loss of blood still rendered him almost helpless, and he knew that making new blood was a process that required good feeding and considerable time. What, then, was to be done?

 

He had scarcely asked himself the question when a rustle² in the bushes near him caused him to look quickly round and seize his gun. But the noise was not repeated, and nothing could be seen to justify³ alarm. Still Dan felt that the sound justified⁴ caution; he therefore kept his gun handy, and loosened in its sheath the scalping-knife which he always carried in his belt—for eating purposes, not for scalping.

 

Thus he sat for nearly an hour with an uncomfortable sensation that danger of some sort lurked⁵ near him, until he almost fell asleep. Then, rousing himself he proceeded to breakfast on the bones and scraps⁶ of the previous night’s supper.

 

While thus engaged he tried to make up his mind what course he ought to pursue—whether to remain where he was until his friends should have time to find him—for he felt sure that Okématan would escape and reach the Settlement, in which case a search for him would certainly be set on foot—or whether he should make a desperate effort to stagger on, and ultimately, if need be, creep towards home. The pain of his wound was now so great as to render the latter course almost impossible. He therefore resolved to wait and give his friends time to institute a search, trusting to another shot at willow-grouse for a supply of food.

 

He had scarcely made up his mind to this plan when the rustling⁷ in the bushes was repeated again. Seizing his gun, which he had laid down, Dan faced round just in time to see the hindquarters and tail of a large grey wolf disappearing in the bushes.

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