“Red she-wolf.⁠ ⁠… Come in with the dogs at feedin’ time.⁠ ⁠… First she ate the dog-food.⁠ ⁠… Then she ate the dogs.⁠ ⁠… An’ after that she ate Bill.⁠ ⁠…”

“Where’s Lord Alfred?” one of the men bellowed in his ear, shaking him roughly.

He shook his head slowly. “No, she didn’t eat him.⁠ ⁠… He’s roostin’ in a tree at the last camp.”

“Dead?” the man shouted.

“An’ in a box,” Henry answered. He jerked his shoulder petulantly away from the grip of his questioner. “Say, you lemme alone.⁠ ⁠… I’m jes’ plump tuckered out.⁠ ⁠… Goo’ night, everybody.”

His eyes fluttered and went shut. His chin fell forward on his chest. And even as they eased him down upon the blankets his snores were rising on the frosty air.