He was about to rush toward them, when his mother spoke.
“Not so fast, my son,” she said. “That is a herd of caribou. They are our wild cousins.”
White Sox was very much surprised. “Our wild cousins?” he repeated slowly. Then he became greatly excited. “Oh, mother, I’m so glad! I’ve always wanted to see our wild cousins. How lucky we are! Come, let’s hurry!”
“No, no, my son! You have many lessons to learn,” she said kindly. “Our wild cousins do not know we are coming to visit them. They have not scented us, because the wind is blowing from them to us. They will be startled when they see us. We must move very slowly. If we rush toward them, they will run away.”
As White Sox and his mother moved toward the herd of white caribou, they left the last of the fog behind and could see their cousins quite plainly.
“They look exactly like us,” said White Sox, after watching them for a little while.
“Look again, my son,” said Mother Reindeer.
But at that moment the caribou caught sight of the strangers. They quickly bunched together, with heads erect, and watched them.
Mother Reindeer paused. White Sox stopped also.
“No, mother, I was wrong,” he said. “I can see our cousins plainer now. Their bodies are more slender than those of the reindeer in our herd. Their legs and necks are longer. They hold their heads higher. There are no spotted or white ones among them.”