He paused a moment at the gate, and as he stood the wind-borne fumesbegan their subtle work. Five were the faithful wardens of his life, andthe best and trustiest of them all flung open wide the door he long hadkept. A moment still Wahb stood in doubt. His lifelong guide was silentnow, had given up his post. But another sense he felt within. The Angelof the Wild Things was standing there, beckoning, in the little vale.Wahb did not understand. He had no eyes to see the tear in the Angel'seyes, nor the pitying smile that was surely on his lips. He could noteven see the Angel. But he _felt_ him beckoning, beckoning. A rush ofhis ancient courage surged in the Grizzly's rugged breast. He turnedaside into the little gulch. The deadly vapors entered in, filled hishuge chest and tingled in his vast, heroic limbs as he calmly lay downon the rocky, herbless floor and as gently went to sleep, as he did thatday in his Mother's arms by the Graybull, long ago.
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