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But the moose. Zing-ha and he had gone out that day to play at hunting after the manner of their fathers. On the bed of the creek they struck the fresh track of a moose, and with it the tracks of many wolves. "An old one,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]," Zing-ha, who was quicker at reading the sign,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], said—"an old one who cannot keep up with the herd. The wolves have cut him out from his brothers, and they will never leave him." And it was so. It was their way. By day and by night, never resting,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], snarling on his heels,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], snapping at his nose, they would stay by him to the end. How Zing-ha and he felt the bloodlust quicken! The finish would be a sight to see!
Eager-footed, they took the trail, and even he,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Koskoosh, slow of sight and an unversed tracker, could have followed it blind, it was so wide. Hot were they on the heels of the chase, reading the grim tragedy, fresh-written, at every step. Now they came to where the moose had made a stand. Thrice the length of a grown man's body, in every direction,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], had the snow been stamped about and uptossed.