Part 19 (2/2)

As if in response to the thought in his mind, there came once more across the plain Gray Wolf's mate-seeking cry of grief and of loneliness. Swiftly as though struck by a lash Kazan was on his feet--oblivious of Joan's touch, of her voice, of the presence of the man. In another instant he was gone, and Joan flung herself against her husband's breast, and almost fiercely took his face between her two hands.

”_Now_ do you believe?” she cried pantingly. ”_Now_ do you believe in the G.o.d of my world--the G.o.d I have lived with, the G.o.d that gives souls to the wild things, the G.o.d that--that has brought--us, all--together--once more--_home_!”

His arms closed gently about her.

”I believe, my Joan,” he whispered.

”And you understand--now--what it means, 'Thou shalt not kill'?”

”Except that it brings us life--yes, I understand,” he replied.

Her warm soft hands stroked his face. Her blue eyes, filled with the glory of the stars, looked up into his.

”Kazan and _she_--you and I--and the baby! Are you sorry--that we came back?” she asked.

So close he drew her against his breast that she did not hear the words he whispered in the soft warmth of her hair. And after that, for many hours, they sat in the starlight in front of the cabin door. But they did not hear again that lonely cry from the Sun Rock. Joan and her husband understood.

”He'll visit us again to-morrow,” the man said at last. ”Come, Joan, let us go to bed.”

Together they entered the cabin.

And that night, side by side, Kazan and Gray Wolf hunted again in the moonlit plain.

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