A Stone In the Cold 7th Verse

I must build a shelter, to fight the cold. Still, out are the poachers who brought the fight. In the distance smoke, a joy to behold, a cabin with a blaze, warmth for the night. Wolves howl on the wind, I think of the men hoping they've all risen and left now But glad to have gotten away from them I lope toward the lit window aglow. A door opens and I welcomed right in my son had been searching for me, I'm told. The heat of the fire, dry clothes from kin an earnest call to the forest patrol. With mornings light I report in as planned Through the north woods I come, my bow in hand.