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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
167
II
It
seems
that
Fiddler
Paul,
the
handsome
ne'er-do-well
of
the
half-breed
world,
readier
to
hunt
than
to
work,
was
prowling
with
his
gun
along
the
wooded
banks
of
the
Red
River
by
Kildonan,
one
day
in
the
June
of
1880.
He
saw
a
Gray-wolf
come
out
of
a
hole
in
a
bank
and
fired
a
chance
shot
that
killed
it.
Having
made
sure,
by
sending
in
his
Dog,
that
no
other
large
Wolf
was
there,
he
crawled
into
the
den,
and
found,
to
his
utter
amazement
and
delight,
eight
young
Wolves--nine
bounties
of
ten
dollars
each.
How
much
is
that?
A
fortune
surely.
He
used
a
stick
vigorously,
and
with
the
assistance
of
the
yellow
Cur,
all
the
little
ones
were
killed
but
one.
There
is
a
superstition
about
the
last
of
a
brood--it
is
not
lucky
to
kill
it.
So
Paul
set
out
for
town
with
the
scalp
of
the
old
Wolf,
the
scalps
of
the
seven
young,
and
the
last
Cub
alive.
The
saloon-keeper,
who
got
the
dollars
for
which
the
scalps
were
exchanged,
soon
got
the
living
Cub.
He
grew
up
at
the
end
of
a
chain,
but
developed
a
chest
and
jaws
that
no
Hound
in
town
could
match.
He
was
kept
in
the
yard
for
the
amusement
of
customers,
and
this
amusement
usually
took
the
form
of
baiting
the
captive
with
Dogs.
The
young
Wolf
was
bitten
and
mauled
nearly
to
death
on
several
occasions,
but
he
recovered,
and
each
month
there
were
fewer
Dogs
willing
to
face
him.
His
life
was
as
hard
as
it
could
be.
There
was
but
one
gleam
of
gentleness
in
it
all,
and
that
was
the
friendship
that
grew
up
between
himself
and
Little
Jim,
the
son
of
the
saloonkeeper.
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