boy she would not know he was a Good Wolf and she would be frightened, and if we met a

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hunter in the forest he would not know I was a good wolf and he would shoot me. So I must change myself into something else."

"Can you?" cried Barty, and his eyes grew as big as saucers, he was so delighted.

"Just you watch me!" said the Good Wolf.

Once he shook himself—twice he shook himself—three times he shook himself—and then something very funny happened. While he was shaking himself he shook so fast that he looked as if he were standing in a white mist. Then he stopped quite suddenly and

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stood still. And actually instead of being a wolf he had changed into a great big dog the kind of big dog that drags sleds over the snow for the Esquimau people—but he was as white as the snow was.

He was so furry and handsome that Barty ran to him and hung round his neck hugging him. He had so wanted a dog and this was exactly the kind he had dreamed about.

"Put on my harness. Put it on!" said the Good Wolf. "I will show you how."

He showed him how to do it all, and when he was harnessed to

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the sled and stood ready with the scarlet leather straps and gold buckles and jingling gold bells shining out against his thick furry white coat, he looked like a picture—so did the sled—so did Barty in his red coat and cap, dancing up and down with his whip in his hand.

"Take the reins and jump on," said the Wolf.

And Barty did take the reins and jump on, and the Good Wolf began to trot, and the scarlet harness shone, and the bells jingled and jingled, and off they went gliding over the sparkling snow

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into the forest—the deep, deep forest where things built nests, and things burrowed under the earth and made long passages and little warm caves to live in.

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CHAPTER TWO