Never Cry Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

instructing me to report to Ottawa at once.
    None of these messages ever reached me, nor could they have done so even if they had been sent by a more direct route, for the battery in my radio was good for only six hours’ use, and the only station I was ever again able to raise before the batteries went dead was broadcasting a light music program from Moscow.
    But to return to my narrative:
    By the time I had finished my business with Peru, it had begun to grow quite dark and the surrounding hills seemed to be closing in on me. I had as yet seen no sign of wolves; but they were understandably very much on my mind, and when I glimpsed a flicker of distant movement near the valley mouth, I became even more wolf-conscious.
    By straining my hearing I detected a faint but electrifying sound—one that I instantly recognized, for, though I had never before heard it in the wild, I had heard it several times in cowboy films. It was unmistakably the howling of a wolf pack in full cry, and, equally unmistakably, the pack was crying full in my direction. At least one of my problems appeared to have been solved. I was about to establish contact with the study species.
    The solution of this problem led directly to the discovery of several new ones, not the least of which was that there were only six rounds in my pistol and I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember where I had stowed the reserve ammunition. This was a matter of some moment, since I knew from my extensive reading on the subject that the number of individuals in a wolf pack can vary from four to forty. Furthermore, judging from the volume of soundsbeing made by the approaching animals, I suspected that this pack numbered closer to four hundred.
    The subarctic night was now hard upon me, and the wolves soon would be too. It was already so dark that I could not see them clearly enough to estimate their actual numbers or gauge their probable behavior pattern. I therefore decided I should retire underneath the upturned canoe, so that the presence of a human being would not be readily apparent, with its consequent tendency to induce atypical behavior in the beasts.
    Now one of the cardinal tenets of biology is that the observer must never allow his attention to be distracted; but honesty compels me to admit that under the present circumstances I found it difficult to maintain an attitude of correct scientific concentration. I was particularly worried about my canoe. Being lightly built of canvas over thin cedar staves, it might, I suspected, be easily damaged by rough usage, in which case I would be completely immobilized in the future. The second thing which was bothering me was so unusual that I must give it special emphasis, if only because it demonstrates the basic illogicality of the human mind when not under proper disciplinary control. I found myself fervently wishing I was a pregnant Eskimo.
    Since I could no longer see what was happening, I had to rely upon my other senses. My ears kept me informed as the pack swept up at full speed, circled my pile of equipment once, and then rushed straight for the canoe.
    A terrific chorus of howls, barks and yelps very nearly deafened me, and so confusing was the noise that I began to experience hallucinations, imagining I could hear the deep-throated roar of an almost human voice above the general tumult. The roar sounded rather like:
    FURCRISAKESTOPYOUGODAMNSONSABITCHES!
    At this point there was much scuffling, an outburst of pained yelping, and then, miraculously, total silence.
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    I had been trained for years to make accurate deductions from natural phenomena, but this situation was beyond me. I needed more data. Very cautiously I put one eye to the narrow slit between the gunwale of the canoe and the ice below. At first I could see nothing but wolf feet—scores of them; but then my glance fastened on another pair of feet—a single pair—which could have belonged to no wolf. My deductive abilities