All through that night, and the following days and nights, the old wolf lay immovable in his . At last, with head, he rose from his resting-place, stretched himself mournfully, first on his fore-paws, then on his hind-legs, arched his back, gnashed his and licked the snow with his tongue. The sky was still in a , darkness: the snow was hard, and glittered like a million points of white light. The moon—a dark red orb—was over with masses of inky clouds and was fast disappearing on the right of the horizon; on the left, a dawn full of menace was slowly breaking. The snow-wind blew and whistled overhead. Around the wolf, under a sky, were fallen pines and little fir trees cloaked with snow.  
He moved up to a , naked waste above the valley, emerged from the wood, and stood with lowered head by its border, listening and . Here the wind blew more strongly, the trees cracked and , and from the wide dark expanse of open country came a sense of emptiness and bitter cold.
 
The old wolf raised his head, his nose, and uttered a prolonged howl. There was no answer. Then he sped to the watering place and to the river, to the place where his mate had perished.
 
He loped along swiftly, noiselessly, on the earth, unnoticeable but for his eyes, which made him terrible to encounter suddenly.
 
From a hill by the riverside a village could be , its mole- like windows already alight, and not far distant the dark of a lonely farm.
 
The wolf prowled aimlessly through the quiet, snow-covered fields. Although it was a still, dark night, the blue lights of the approaching dawn proclaimed that Mar............