Another engrossing report from the Canadian wilderness by the author of Paddy (1977) and The North Runner (1979). This time Lawrence purchases two wolf cubs, only days old, from the Indian who has killed their mother; and, with the help of his wife and their malamute Tundra, raises them until they are skillful enough to live in the wild. His respect for wolves, he explains, is long-standing: once, when he unwittingly interrupted a wolf pack downing its kill, the animals encircled him until they frightened him away--""a bluff that was remarkably effective."" Now, he finds himself doubling as foster-parent and naturalist. He feeds the still-blind orphans from his own mouth until they learn to suck from a bottle; later, he shakes them by the scruff of the neck to teach them the wolf ritual for establishing dominance in a pack. (Afterward he must wrestle the male wolf to retain his supremacy.) There are obvious parallels between raising the cubs and raising human children; recognizing his tendency to anthropomorphize, Lawrence remarks that human beings are, ""after all,"" animals. And when the year-old wolves finally disappear into the wild, he views the departure, without sentimentality, as a triumph over the animals' sorry beginning. Vivid personal experiences with a firm natural-history core.