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THE OUTCASTS

[Illustration: SHAG CARRIED THE DOG-WOLF ON HIS BACK.]




THE
OUTCASTS

BY W. A. FRASER

ILLUSTRATED BY ARTHUR HEMING

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
NEW YORK ----- MDCCCCI




_Copyright, 1901, by_
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED




Illustrations

_The full-page subjects from drawings by Arthur Heming. The
head- and tail-pieces from drawings by J. S. Gordon_

                                                             FACING

Shag carried the Dog-wolf on his back                         Title

"Lying on my back as though I were dead, I
held my tail straight up"                                         6

"I am no Wolf, Shag; I am A'tim, which
meaneth a Dog in the talk of the Crees"                          10

One after another they hurtled into the
slaughter-pen of the Blood Indians' corral                       36

Muskwa had A'tim in his long-clawed grasp                        66

"Steady, Dog-Wolf, steady," admonished
Shag, "this is a friend of mine"                                 78

"Oh, don't mention it!" exclaimed the Wolf;
"no doubt we shall find something for
dinner, presently"                                              114

"Thou art a traitor, and a great liar," said
the Bull                                                        136




THE OUTCASTS




[Illustration]

THE OUTCASTS

CHAPTER ONE


A'tim the Outcast was half Wolf, half Huskie Dog. That meant
ferocity and bloodthirst on the one side, and knowledge of Man's
ways on the other. Also, that he was an Outcast; for neither side
of the house of his ancestry would have aught of him.

A'tim was bred in the far Northland, where the Cree Indians trail
the white snow-waste with Train Dogs; and one time A'tim had
pressed an unwilling shoulder to a dog-collar. Now he was an
outcast vagabond on the southern prairie, close to the Montana
border-land.

It was September; and all day A'tim had skulked in the willow
cover of Belly River flat-lands, close to the lodges of the Blood
Indians.

Nothing to eat had come the way of the Dog-Wolf; only a little
knowledge of something that was to happen, for he had heard
things,--the voices of the Indians sitting in council had slipped
gently down the wind to his sharp Wolf ears.

As he crawled up the river bank close to Belly Buttes and looked
across the plain, he could see the pink flush of eventide, like a
fairy veil, draping the cold blue mountains--the Rockies.

"Good-night, warm Brother," he said, blinking at the setting sun;
"I wonder if you are going to sleep with an empty stomach, as
must A'tim."

The soft-edged shafts of gold-yellow quivered tremblingly behind
the blue-gray mountains, as though Sol were laughing at the
address of the Outcast. The Dog-Wolf looked furtively over his
shoulder at the smoke-wreathed cones of the Blood tepees. The
odor of many flesh-pots tickled his nostrils until they quivered
in longing desire. Buh-h-h! but he was hungry! All his life he
had been hungry; only at long intervals had a gorge of much
eating fallen to his lot.

"Good-night, warm Brother," he said again, turning stubbornly
from