Following a narrow animal trail that led into the valley, Nashoba trotted steadily on his long thin legs. With each step, his five-inch-wide paw pads marked the soft earth as if to brand the land as his own.
Though he kept alert for the raven, he saw no sign. How far should he go? He kept reminding himself that if the raven did know something, that knowledge would solve his pack’s food problem. And his own.
The raven’s cry came again: “Caw! Caw!”
The bird was still lower in the valley.
Nashoba went on.