Much as I needed his hide and meat, I could not help regretting that it had been necessary to destroy the life of such a splendid creature, and I marveled that I had ever been able to hunt and kill such harmless, beautiful animals and call it sport.
While bending over the deer I noticed for the first time that the spot whereon I stood was covered with little patches of white and that the deer’s muzzle was coated with the same white substance. Wondering at this, I stooped, scraped up a bit of the strange material, and touched it to my tongue. It was salt.
Instantly I realized why the numerous tracks had led hither, why the deer had been so intently licking at the caked, muddy ground; the place was a “salt-lick,” the first I had ever seen, but of which I had often heard.
“I AIMED AT THE SLEEK, BROWN BODY”
Throughout my life in the woods I had missed salt terribly, and while I had become accustomed to going without it, all my old longing came back to me as I tasted this muddy, bitter salt. I regretted deeply not having found it before. But I intended to revel in it now, and that night I ate meat with salt for the first time in many months, and it tasted wonderfully good.
A short time after this I again bent my steps toward the salt-lick to obtain a fresh supply of the precious material, and, while I had no immediate need of more venison or of additional hides, yet I approached as cautiously as before, for I was curious to see if more deer were at the spot.
I had almost reached the old tree behind which I had hidden on my former trip when my ears caught a most unusual sound. It was low and faint and resembled the moaning wail of a sick child, and yet there was a whining note to it which did not sound human.
At first I could not locate it, but, by turning my head and listening intently, I decided it issued from a thick clump of brush beyond the salt-lick. No living creature was in sight, and, rising, I moved toward the sound with bow and arrow ready for instant use, for I had no idea what danger might lurk within the thicket. As I drew near I noticed that the bare earth was torn and that the salt and mud were reddened with blood, and I halted as it flashed upon me that the thicket might conceal a lynx mouthing a deer which it had killed. But as I hesitated the sound again issued from the bushes, and its wailing, sobbing sound was so unmistakably the cry of some suffering being in mortal pain that I cast fear aside and pushed into the brush.
The next instant I stopped short and drew back, for lying upon a blood-stained bed of dead leaves was a gaunt, gray wolf! I had no need to fear, however; the poor creature was absolutely helpless, and at sound of my footsteps merely turned his eyes inquiringly in my direction, unable even to lift his head from off the ground. A great gash in his neck and innumerable cuts and tears upon his body showed how badly he was wounded, and my first thought was to step to him and mercifully end his misery. But as I bent above him and drew my knife his dimming eyes gazed at me with such a pleading, wistful expression that my heart revolted at the thought of killing him and I sheathed the knife, determined to do my utmost to ease his sufferings.