Never Cry Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page A

something over thirty feet, and discovered we were flying up a mile-wide valley between high rocky hills, and over the surface of a frozen lake. Without an instant’s hesitation the pilot landed, and whatever I may have thought of his aeronautical ability previously, I was suitably impressed with this particular maneuver, for he landed on our one good ski. Not until the aircraft had lost almost all speed did he allow her to settle slowly over on her weak starboard leg.
    The pilot did not cut the engines.
    â€œThis is it, chum,” he said merrily. “Out you go now. Got to be quick. Be dark before we raise Churchill.”
    The lethargic mechanic sprang to life and, in mere moments, so it seemed to me, my mountain of supplies was on the ice, the canoe had been cut loose, and the landing-gear cylinder had once again been pumped back to the vertical.
    After a glance at the contents of the canoe, the pilot bent a sorrowful look upon me.
    â€œNot quite cricket, eh?” he asked. “Ah well, suppose you’ll need it. Cheery-bob. Come back for you in the fall sometime if the old kite hasn’t pranged. Not to worry, though. Sure to be lots of Eskimos around. They’ll take you back to Churchill any time at all.”
    â€œThanks,” I said meekly. “But just for my records, do you mind telling me where I am?”
    â€œSorry about that. Don’t quite know myself. Say about three hundred miles northwest of Churchill? Close enough. No maps of this country anyway…. Toodle-oo.”
    The cabin door slammed shut. The engines did their best to roar in the prescribed manner, and the plane went bumping across the pressure ridges, lifted unwillingly, and vanished into the overcast.
    I had arrived safely at my base.

 
    4
    When Is a Wolf Not a Wolf?
    A S I LOOKED about me at the stark and cloud-topped hills, the waste of pressure-rippled ice, and, beyond the valley, to the desolate and treeless roll of tundra, I had no doubt that this was excellent wolf country. Indeed, I suspected that many pairs of lupine eyes were already watching me with speculative interest. I burrowed into my mountain of gear, found the revolver, and then took stock of my situation.
    It did not seem very prepossessing. True, I had apparently penetrated to the heart of the Keewatin Barren Lands. And I had established a kind of base, although its location—on the lake ice, far from land—left much to be desired. So far, I had adheredstrictly to the letter of my instructions; but the next paragraph in my operation order was a stickler.
    Â 
    Para. 3
    Sec. (C)
    Subpara. (iv)
    Â 
    Immediately after establishing a permanent base you will proceed, by means of canoe and utilizing waterways, to make an extensive general survey of the surrounding country to a depth, and in a manner, which will be significant in statistical terms, in order to determine the range/population ratio of Canis lupus and in order to establish contact with the study species….
    Â 
    I was willing enough to carry on as per instructions, but the ice underfoot had a solidity about it which suggested that canoeing would have to be deferred for several weeks, if not forever. Furthermore, without some alternative means of transport, I did not see how I could even begin the task of moving my mountain of gear to a permanent location on dry land. As to establishing contact with the study species—this seemed out of the question atthe moment, unless the wolves themselves decided to take the initiative.
    It was a serious dilemma. My orders had been drawn up for me after detailed consultation with the Meteorological Service, which had assured my Department that “normally” the lakes and rivers in the central Barrens could be expected to be clear of ice by the date of my arrival.
    My orientation course in Ottawa had taught me that one never questioned information emanating from another department; and if a field operation based on such