Wolves are tracking in the snow,
Hunting in a throng.
They are hungry, starving in the cold;
Winter has been long.
Some trails are hidden by the wind's blow,
But this trail can't be wrong
That one wolf sniffs; it's not hours old.
She lifts her head in a howled song.
Other wolves nearby are searching too,
And they all turn to hear.
Then they quickly run to her
And stop when they are near.
She shows them all the trail so new,
And together they all peer
At the white ground covered all over
By the tracks of a bounding deer.
They run off following in a hurry;
They do not hesitate.
The snow has begun to fall again,
And soon it may be too late.
So along the trail the great wolves scurry
As it courses as straight
As the hot blood in the wolves' dark veins.
Wolf hunger cannot wait.
The tracks lead down a snowy hill
To where begin the trees.
The wolves run quickly with ice beneath;
Noiselessly they pad with ease.
Their minds are set on the impending kill,
Which will their stomachs please.