Suddenly he forgot to kick. There were sounds! He heard the _thump thump_ of hoofs passing his place of refuge. Then they ceased. There were sounds of voices coming dimly; then after a while the hoofs passed again, and there was a voice that said “saved hangin’ anyway.”
The hoof beats grew dimmer, and Antoine knew by their hollow sound that his pursuers had begun to cross the ice on the back trail. He again gave his attention to the wolf. It lay very still. A feeling of supreme comfort came over Antoine. It was sweet to be a master. He laid his head upon the wolf’s motionless body. He was very weary, he had conquered, and he would sleep upon his prey.
He awoke feeling a warm, rasping something upon his wounded cheek. A faint light came in at the entrance of the place. It was morning. In his sleep Antoine had moved his head close to the muzzle of the wolf. Now, utterly conquered, bruised, unable to arise, the brute was feebly licking the blood from the man’s wound.
Antoine’s sense of mastery after his sound sleep made him kind for once. He was safe and something had caressed him, altho’ it was only a soundly-beaten wolf.
“You pore devil!” said Antoine with a sudden softness in his voice; “I done you up, didn’t I? You hain’t so bad, I guess; but if I hadn’t done you, I’d got done myself. Hurt much, you pore devil, eh?”
He stroked the side of the animal, whereupon it cried out with pain.
“Pretty sore, eh? Well as long as I’m bigger’n you, I’ll be good to you, I will. I ain’t so bad, am I? You treat me square and you won’t never get no bad deals from the half-breed; mind that. Hel-_lo_! you’re a _Miss_ Wolf, ain’t you? Well, for the present, I’m a Mister Wolf, and I’m a good un! Let me hunt you up a name; somethin’ soft like a woman, ’cause you did touch me kind of tender like. _Susette!_—that’s it—_Susette_. You’re Susette now. I hain’t got no people, so I’m a wolf from now on, and my name’s Antoine. Susette and Antoine—sounds pretty good, don’t it? Say, I know as much about bein’ a wolf as you do. Can’t teach me nothin’ about sneakin’ and hidin’ and fightin’! Say, old girl, _hain’t_ I a tol’able good fighter now? O, I know I am, and when you need it again, you’re goin’ to get it good and hard, Susette; mind that. Hain’t got nothin’ to eat about the house, have you, old girl? Then, bein’ head of the family with a sick woman about, I’m goin’ huntin’. Don’t you let no other wolf come skulkin’ around! You know me! I’ll wear his skin when I come back, if you don’t mind!”