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The Sounding of the Call

           Throughtheforesttheycreptnoiselessly,Buckatthehairyman’sheels; andtheywerealertandvigilant,thepairofthem,earstwitchingandmovingandnostrilsquivering,forthemanheardandsmelledaskeenlyasBuck. Thehairymancouldspringupintothetreesandtravelaheadasfastasontheground,swingingbythearmsfromlimbtolimb,sometimesadozenfeetapart,lettinggoandcatching,neverfalling,nevermissinghisgrip. Infact,heseemedasmuchathomeamongthetreesasontheground; andBuckhadmemoriesofnightsofvigilspentbeneathtreeswhereinthehairymanroosted,holdingontightlyasheslept. 

           Andcloselyakintothevisionsofthehairymanwasthecallstillsoundinginthedepthsoftheforest. Itfilledhimwithagreatunrestandstrangedesires. Itcausedhimtofeelavague,sweetgladness,andhewasawareofwildyearningsandstirringsforheknewnotwhat. Sometimeshepursuedthecallintotheforest,lookingforitasthoughitwereatangiblething,barkingsoftlyordefiantly,asthemoodmightdictate. Hewouldthrusthisnoseintothecoolwoodmoss,orintotheblacksoilwherelonggrassesgrew,andsnortwithjoyatthefatearthsmells;orhewouldcrouchforhours,asifinconcealment,behindfungus-coveredtrunksoffallentrees,wide-eyedandwide-earedtoallthatmovedandsoundedabouthim. Itmightbe,lyingthus,thathehopedtosurprisethiscallhecouldnotunderstand. Buthedidnotknowwhyhedidthesevariousthings. 

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