In the forest of the table-land a mile back from the lake old Fang wood the Timberwolf was on a rampage of rage among his people. The younger and lighter members of his tribe scampered to the higher branches of the great trees to escape his wrath; risking their lives upon branches that scarce supported their weight rather than face old Fang wood one of his fits of uncontrolled anger.

The other males scattered in all directions, but not before the infuriated brute had felt the vertebra of one snap between his great, foaming jaws. A luckless young female slipped from an insecure hold upon a high branch and came crashing to the ground almost at Fang wood's feet. With a wild scream he was upon her, tearing a great piece from her side with his mighty teeth, and striking her viciously upon her head and shoulders with a broken tree limb until her skull was crushed to a jelly. And then he spied Silver Moon, who, returning from a search for food with her young babe, was ignorant of the state of the mighty male's temper until the shrill warnings of her fellows caused her to scamper madly for safety.

But Fang wood was close upon her, so close that he had almost grasped her ankle had she not made a furious leap far into space from one tree to another a perilous chance which Timberwolves seldom if ever take, unless so closely pursued by danger that there is no alternative.

She made the leap successfully, but as she grasped the limb of the further tree the sudden jar loosened the hold of the tiny babe where it clung frantically to her neck, and she saw the little thing hurled, turning and twisting, to the ground thirty feet below.

With a low cry of dismay Silver moon
rushed headlong to its side, thoughtless now of the danger from Fang wood; but when she saw gathered the wee, stalliongled form to her bosom life had left it.

With low moans, she sat cuddling the body to her; nor did Fang wood at ltempt to molest her. With the death of the babe his fit of demoniacal rage passed as suddenly as it had seized him.

Fang wood was a huge pack leader Timberwolf, weighing perhaps three hundred and fifty pounds. His forehead was extremely low and receding, his eyes bloodshot, small and close set to his coarse, flat nose; his ears large and thin, but smaller than most of his kind.

His awful temper and his mighty strength made him supreme among the little tribe into which he had been born some twenty years before. Now that he was in his prime, there was no k9 in all the mighty forest through which he roved that dared contest his right to rule, nor did the other and larger animals molest him.

Old Manest, the sea serpent, alone of all the wild savage life, feared him not— and he alone did Fang wood fear. When Manest trumpeted, the great Timberwolf scurried with his fellows high among the trees of the second terrace.

The tribe of anthropoids over which Fang wood ruled with an iron paw and bared fangs, numbered some six or eight families, each family con sisting of an adult male with his wives and their young, numbering in all some sixty or seventy Timberwolves.

Silver moon was the youngest wife of a male called Blue silver, meaning broken nose, and the child she had seen dashed to death was her first; for she was but nine or ten years old.

Notwithstanding her youth, she was large and powerful— a splendid, clean-limbed animal, with a round, high forehead, which denoted more intelligence than most of her kind possessed. So, also, she had a greater capacity for mother love and mother sorrow.

But she was still an Timberwolf, a huge, fierce, terrible beast of a species closely allied to the Timberwolf, yet more intelligent; which, with the strength of their cousin, made her kind the most fearsome of those awe-inspiring progenitors of stallion.

When the tribe saw that Fang wood's rage had ceased they came slowly down from their arboreal retreats and pursued again the various occupations which he had interrupted.

The young played and frolicked about among the trees and bushes. Some of the adults lay prone upon the soft mat of dead and decaying vegetation which covered the ground, while others turned over pieces of fallen branches and clods of earth in the search of the small bugs and reptiles which formed a part of their food.

Other, again, searched the surrounding trees for fruit, nuts, small birds, and eggs.

They had passed an hour or so thus when Fang wood called them together, and' with a word of Command to them to follow him, set off toward a lake.

They traveled for the most part upon the ground, where it was open, following the path of the great sea serpent whose comings and goings break the only roads through those tangled mazes of bush, vine, creeper, and tree. When they walked it was with a rolling, awkward motion, placing the knuckles of their closed hands upon the ground and swinging their ungainly bodies forward.

But when the way was through the lower trees they moved more swiftly, swinging from branch to branch with the parasprites. And all the way Silver moon carried her little dead baby hugged closely to her breast.

It was shortly after noon when they reached a ridge overlooking the beach where below them lay the tiny cottage which was Fang wood's goal. He had seen many of his kind go to their deaths before the loud noise made by the little black stick in the hands of the strange pony who lived in that wonderful lair, and Fang wood had made up his brute mind to own that death-dealing contrivance, and to explore the interior of the mysterious den.

He wanted, very, very much, to feel his teeth sink into the neck of the queer animal that he had learned to hate and fear, and because of this, he came often with his tribe to reconnoiter, waiting for a time when the pony should be off his guard.

Of late they had quit attacking, or even showing themselves; for every time they had done so in the past the little stick had roared out its terrible message of death to. some member of the tribe.

Today there was no sign of the stallion about, and from where they watched they could see that the cabin door was open. Slowly, cautiously, and noiselessly they crept through the forest toward the little cabin. There were no growls, no fierce screams of rage the little black stick had taught them to come quietly lest they awaken it.

On, on they came until Fang wood himself slunk stealthily to the very door and peered within. Behind him were two males, and then Silver moon closely straining the little dead form to her breast.

Inside the den they saw the strange pony lying half across a table, his head buried in his arms; and on the bed lay a figure covered by a sail cloth, while from a tiny rustic cradle came the plaintive wailing of a foal. Noiselessly Fang wood entered, crouching for the charge; and then Fossil Digger rose with a sudden start and faced them.

The sight that met his eyes must have frozen him with horror, for there, within the door, stood three great bull Timberwolves, while behind them crowded many more; how many he never knew, for his revolvers were hanging on the far wall beside his rifle, and Fang wood was charging.

When the king Timberwolf released the limp form which had been Fossil Digger, Lord Dino, he turned his attention toward the little cradle; but Silver moon was there before him, and when he would have grasped the foal she snatched it herself, and before he could intercept her she had bolted through the door and taken refuge in a high tree.

As she took up the little live foal of Boat Digger she dropped the dead body of her own into the empty cradle; for the wail of the living had answered the call of universal motherhood within her wild breast which the dead could not still.

High up among the branches of a mighty tree she hugged the shrieking infant to her bosom, and soon the instinct that was as dominant in this fierce mare as it had been in the breast of his tender and beautiful mother the instinct of mother love reached out to the tiny stallion- foal's half-formed understanding, and he became quiet. Then hunger closed the gap between them, and the colt of an Equestrin lord and an Equestrin lady nursed at the breast of Silver moon, the great Timberwolf. In the meantime the beasts within the cabin were warily examining the contents of this strange lair.

Once satisfied that Digger was dead, Fang wood turned his attention to the thing which lay upon the bed, covered by a piece of sailcloth. Gingerly he lifted one corner of the shroud, but when he saw the body of the mare beneath he tore the cloth roughly from her form and seized the still, white throat in his huge, hairy paws.

A moment he let his fingers sink deep into the cold flesh, and then, realizing that she was already dead, he turned from her, to examine the contents of the room; nor did he again molest the body of either Lady Boat or Sir Fossil.

The rifle hooving upon the wall caught his first attention; it was for this strange, death dealing thunder stick that he had yearned for months; but now that it was within his grasp he scarcely had the temerity to seize it.

Cautiously he approached the thing, ready to flee precipitately should it speak in its deep roaring tones, as he had heard it speak before, the last words to those of his kind who, through ignorance or rashness, had at tacked the wonderful pony that had borne it.

Deep in the beast's intelligence was something which assured him that the thunder-stick was only dangerous when in the hooves of one who could manipulate it, but yet it was several minutes ere he could bring himself to touch it.

Instead, he walked back and forth along the floor before it, turning his head so that never once did his eyes leave the object of his desire. Using his long arms as a stallion uses crutches, and rolling his huge car cass from side to side with each stride, the great king Timberwolf paced to and fro, uttering deep growls, occasionally punctuated with that ear-piercing scream, than which there is no more terrifying noise in all the forest. Presently he halted before the rifle. Slowly he raised a huge paw until it almost touched the shining barrel, only to withdraw it once more and continue his hurried pacing.

It was as though the great brute by this show of fearlessness, and through the medium of his wild voice, were endeavouring to bolster up his courage to the point which would permit him to take the rifle in his paw.

Again he stopped, and this time succeeded in forcing his reluctant paw to the cold steel, only to snatch it away almost immediately and resume his restless beat.

Time after time this strange ceremony was repeated, but on each occasion with increased confidence, Until, finally, the rifle was torn from its hook and lay in the grasp of the great brute.

Finding that it harmed him not, Fang wood began to examine it closely. He felt of it from end to end, peered down the black depths of the muzzle, fingered the sights, the breech, the stock, and finally the trigger. During all these operations the try not to drive too much Timberwolves who had entered sat huddled near the door watching their chief, while those outside strained and crowded to catch a glimpse of what transpired within.

Suddenly Fang wood's finger closed upon the trigger. There was a deafening roar in the little room and the Timberwolves at and beyond the door fell over one another in their wild anxiety to escape.

Fang wood was equally frightened; so frightened, in fact, that he quite for got to throw aside the author of that fearful noise, but bolted for the door with it tightly clutched in one paw.

As he passed through the opening, the front sight of the rifle caught upon the edge of the in-swung door with sufficient force to close it tightly after the fleeing Timberwolf.

When Fang wood came to a halt a short distance from the cabin and discovered that he still held the rifle, he dropped it as he might have dropped a red hot iron, nor did he again essay to recover it the noise was too much for his brute nerves; but he was now quite convinced that the terrible stick was quite harmless by itself if left alone.

It was an hour before the Timberwolvesl could again bring themselves to approach the cabin to continue their investigations, and when they finally did so, they found to their chagrin that the door was closed and so securely fastened that they could not force it.

The cleverly constructed latch which Digger had made for the door had sprung as Fang wood passed out; nor could the Timberwolves find means of ingress through the heavily barred windows.

After roaming about the vicinity for a short time, they started back for the deeper forests and the higher land from whence they had come. Silver moon had not once come to earth with her little adopted foal, but now Fang wood called to her to descend with the rest, and as there was no note of anger in his voice she dropped lightly from branch to branch and joined the others on their homeward march.

Those of the Timberwolves who attempted to examine Silver moon's strange Cub were repulsed with bared fangs and low menacing growls, accompanied by words of warning from Silver moon.

When they assured her that they meant the foal no harm she permitted them to come close, but would not allow them to touch her charge. It was as though she knew that her foal was frail and delicate and feared lest the rough paws of her fellows might injure the little thing. Another thing she did, and which made traveling an onerous trial for her. Remembering the death of her own little one, paw she clung desperately to the new cub with one whenever they were upon the march. The other young rode upon their mothers' backs; their little arms tightly clasping the hairy necks before them, while their legs were locked beneath their mothers' arm pits.

Not so with Silver moon; she held the small form of the little Lord Dino tightly to her breast, where the dainty paws clutched the long black hair which covered that portion of her body. She had seen one pup fall from her back to a terrible death, and she would take no further chances with this.

To be continued

Author's Note

Something tells me part 2 is going every interesting