Washer rose excitedly to his feet. “Then I must go at once—before the cubs and Sneaky return. They must find me gone, and if you don’t tell them where I am they’ll never know.”
“That’s true, Little Brother. But where shall we go tonight?”
“To the Silver Birch grove where my people live. It’s above the falls where I fell in the water. Take me there, and I’ll watch and wait for them.”
“But suppose some of the wolves found you in the Silver Birch Grove?”
“What matter’s that?” laughed Washer. “I can climb a tree which is more than any of the wolves can do. I’ll go up the biggest tree, and laugh at them.”
“Yes, Little Brother, you can do that. I’d forgotten that your people are tree climbers. Well,” sighing heavily, “it’s the only thing to do, but it makes me sad to lose you. I shall mourn you every day you’re away.”
“Not more than if you saw me killed by your own people,” added Washer, smiling up into her face.
She nodded her head and began licking his fur. In a short time she was ready to accompany him to the grove of Silver Birches. This was some distance from the cave, and they had to be wary in their movements, for the whole wolf pack was abroad on the hunt. They heard their distant howls on the clear night air, but by keeping away from them they soon got beyond their echo.
They trotted along through the moonlight, following the river toward the falls. Just below them they stopped, while Washer pointed out where Sneaky had found him when he jumped ashore from his raft.
“That must have been a terrible adventure, Little Brother,” Mother Wolf said. “I never heard of any animal coming over the falls and living. It must be you have a charmed life.”