Wolf Breed

Wolf Breed, by Jackson Gregory

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Title: Wolf Breed
Author: Jackson Gregory

Release Date: August 2, 2006 [eBook #18964]
Language: English
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BREED***
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WOLF BREED
by
JACKSON GREGORY
Author of The Short Cut, Etc.
With Frontispiece in Color by Frank Tenney Johnson

[Frontispiece: SHE STOOD UPON A MONSTER BEAR SKIN.
UPON THE RUG, STREWN ABOUT HER CARELESSLY, THEIR
BRIGHT DISCS ADANCE WITH REFLECTED LIGHT, A
THOUSAND MINTED GOLD PIECES CAUGHT THE GLINT OF
THE LOW SUN.]

New York Grosset & Dunlap Publishers Copyright, 1916, By Dodd,
Mead & Company, Inc.

TO
JACKSON GREGORY, Jr.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I
OPEN HOUSE AT PÈRE MARQUETTE'S II THE COMING OF
NO-LUCK DRENNEN III THE MAN UNDER THE CLOAK IV THE

LUCK OF NO-LUCK DRENNEN V THE WAY OF THE NORTH VI
THE PROMISE OF A RAINBOW VII "A PRINCESS, SENT TO
PACK WITH WOLVES!" VIII DUST OF IDOLS IX "TO THE GIRL
I AM GOING TO KISS TONIGHT!" X SEEKERS AFTER GOLD XI
THE WITCHERY OF YGERNE XII MERE BRUTE . . . OR JUST
PLAIN MAN? XIII YGERNE'S ANSWER XIV DRENNEN MAKES
A DISCOVERY XV THE TALE OF le Beau Diable XVI THE LOST
GOLDEN GIRL PAYS AN OLD DEBT XVII THE PASSION OF
ERNESTINE DUMONT XVIII THE LAW AND A MAN'S DESIRE
XIX THE LONG TRAIL XX THE FIRES WHICH PURIFY XXI
CHANCE HEARD IN THE NIGHT XXII THE PATH DOWN THE
CLIFF XXIII CHÂTEAU BELLAIRE XXIV THE SPEAKING OF
GUNS XXV THE BELATED DAWN

WOLF BREED
CHAPTER I
OPEN HOUSE AT PÈRE MARQUETTE'S
Mid June, and the eager spring had burst triumphant into the North
Woods. The mountain tops, still white hostages of the retreating winter,
fettered in frozen manacles, were alone in their reminiscence of the
implacable season. And even they made their joyous offerings to the
newborn springtime, pouring a thousand flashing cascades to leap
down the rocky sides and seek out the hidden nooks and valleys where
seeds were bursting and the thawed earth lay fruitful under warm, lush
grass. The birds were back from their southern voyaging, once more the
squirrels chattered in the open, noisily forgetful of the rigours of winter
in the joy of green things growing, and in the clear blue arch of the sky
the sun wheeled gloriously through a long day. The air, always wine,
was now a sparkling, bubbling, rare vintage champagne, dancing in the
blood, making laughter in the heart and sweet tumult in the brain. It
was the season of long, golden days, of clear, silver nights, of budding
life everywhere.

Because of three unmistakable signs did even the most sceptical of the
handful of hardy spirits at MacLeod's Settlement know that in truth the
spring had come. They read the welcome tidings in the slipping of the
snows from the flinty fronts of Ironhead and Indian Peak a thousand
feet above the greening valley; in the riotous din of squirrels and birds
interwoven with the booming of frogs from the still ponds; and finally
in the announcement tacked upon the post-office door. The two line
scrawl in lead pencil did not state in so many words the same tidings
which the blue birds were proclaiming from the thicket on the far bank
of the Little MacLeod; it merely announced that to-night Père
Marquette and his beloved wife, Mère Jeanne, were keeping open
house. Every one in the Settlement knew what that meant, just as well
as he understood the significance of the noises of the ice splitting upon
the ponds.
Once every year until now this was the fiftieth had such an
announcement appeared. Not always upon the door of the post-office,
for when the announcements began there was no post-office in
MacLeod's Settlement. But annually at the chosen time set apart by the
season and himself Père Marquette would appear upon the little narrow
street, earlier than the earliest, cock his bright eye up at old Ironhead
towering high above him, rub his chin complacently, turn his head
sidewise so that he might hearken to the thin voices of the wild
creatures, and then, his message tacked up, return to the private room
behind his store to kiss Mère Jeanne awake and inform her with grave
joy that their "jour de