The Way of the Wild

The Way of the Wild

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Way of the Wild, by F. St. Mars
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Title: The Way of the Wild
Author: F. St. Mars
Illustrator: Harry Rountree
Release Date: January 21, 2006 [EBook #17567]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAY
OF THE WILD ***

Produced by Al Haines

[Frontispiece: "Jaws, monstrous and wet, grabbing at him in enraged
confusion"]

THE WAY OF THE WILD
BY
F. ST. MARS

WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS BY HARRY ROUNTREE

NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHED IN ENGLAND UNDER THE TITLE "PINION AND
PAW"
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

CONTENTS
I GULO THE INDOMITABLE II BLACKIE AND CO. III UNDER
THE YELLOW FLAG IV NINE POINTS OF THE LAW V
PHARAOH VI THE CRIPPLE VII "SET A THIEF"---- VIII THE
WHERE IS IT? IX LAWLESS LITTLE LOVE X THE KING'S SON
XI THE HIGHWAYMAN OF THE MARSH XII THE FURTIVE
FEUD XIII THE STORM PIRATE XIV WHEN NIGHTS WERE
COLD XV FATE AND THE FEARFUL XVI THE EAGLES OF
LOCH ROYAL XVII RATEL, V.C. XVIII THE DAY

ILLUSTRATIONS
"Jaws, monstrous and wet, grabbing at him in enraged confusion" . . .
Frontispiece
"The owl had lost a foot on the turn
"A shrew-mouse, thirsting for blood, but who got poison instead"
"This one had simply streaked out of the night from nowhere"
"Landed full upon the dumbfounded water-vole--splash!"
"A 'silver tabby' floated among the twigs, looking for him"
"An angry eagle-owl"
"Turning over and over, in one long, sickening dive back to earth"
"That little black-headed fellow doing the stalking act upon that python
was great"
"Shooting straight upwards on the top of what appeared to have been a
submarine mine in a mild form"
"He clutched, and tore, and gulped, and gorged"
"All allowed that he was the pluckiest beast on earth"

THE WAY OF THE WILD
I
GULO THE INDOMITABLE
If his father had been a brown bear and his mother a badger, the result
in outward appearance would have been Gulo, or something very much
like him. But not all the crossing in the world could have accounted for

his character; that came straight from the Devil, his master. Gulo,
however, was not a cross. He was himself, Gulo, the wolverine, alias
glutton, alias carcajou, alias quick-hatch, alias fjeldfras in the
vernacular, or, officially, Gulo luscus. But, by whatever name you
called him, he did not smell sweet; and his character, too, was of a bad
odor. A great man once said that he was like a bear cub with a
superadded tail; but that great man cannot have seen his face. If he had,
he would have looked for his double among the fiends on the top of
Notre Dame. There was, in fact, nothing like him on this earth, only in
a very hot place not on the earth.
He was, in short, a beast with brains that only man, and no beast, ought
to be trusted with; and he had no soul. God alone knows if love, which
softens most creatures, had ever come to Gulo; his behavior seemed to
show that it had not. Perhaps love was afraid of him. And, upon my
soul, I don't wonder.
It was not, however, a hot, but a very cold, place in the pine-forest
where Gulo stood, and the unpitying moon cast a dainty tracery through
the tasseled roof upon the new and glistening snow around him--the
snow that comes early to those parts--and the north-east wind cut like
several razors. But Gulo did not seem to care. Wrapped up in his
ragged, long, untidy, uncleanly-looking, brown-black cloak--just his
gray-sided, black fiend's face poking out--he seemed warm enough.
When he lifted one paw to scratch, one saw that the murderous,
scraping, long claws of him were nearly white; and as he set his lips in
a devilish grin, his fangs glistened white in the moonlight, too.
Verily, this was no beast--he would have taped four feet and a quarter
from tip to tip, if you had worn chain-mail and dared to measure
him--no beast, I say, to handle with white-kid ball gloves. Things were
possible from him, one felt, that were not possible of any other living
creature--awful things.
Suddenly he looked up. The branches above him had stirred uneasily,
as if an army were asleep there. And an army was--of wood-pigeons.
Thousands upon thousands of wood-pigeons were asleep above his
head,