because I wished to see those
things no more, perhaps because it is a custom to bury with the dead
what they loved when they were alive.”
Then he turned and left the hut. Aaka watched him go, muttering to
herself:
“He is right. I am mad with grief for Fo-a and with fear for Foh; for
it is the children that we women love, yes, more than the man who
begat them; and if I thought that I should never find her again, then
I would die at once and have done. Meanwhile, I live on to see Wi dash
out the brains of Henga, or, if he is killed, to help Pag poison him.
They say that Pag is a wolf, but, though I hate him of whom Wi thinks
too much, what care I whether he be wolf or monster? At least he loves
Wi and our children and will help me to be revenged on Henga.”
Presently she heard the wild-bull horn that served the tribe as a
trumpet being blown, and knew that Wini-wini, he who was called the
Shudderer because he shook like a jellyfish even if not frightened,
which was seldom, was summoning the people that they might talk
together or hear news. Guessing what that news would be, Aaka threw
her skin cloak about her and followed the sound of the horn to the
place of assembly.
Here, on a flat piece of ground at a distance from the huts that lay
about two hundred paces from a cliff-like spur of the mountain, all
the people, men, women, and children, except a few who were in
childbed or too sick or old to move, were gathering together. As they
walked or ran, they chattered excitedly, delighted that something was
happening to break the terrible sadness of their lives, now and again
pointing toward the mouth of the great cave that appeared in the stone
cliff opposite to the meeting place. In this cave dwelt Henga, for by
right, from time immemorial, it was the home of the chiefs of the
tribe, which none might enter save by permission, a sacred place like
to the palaces of modern times.
Aaka walked on, feeling that she was being watched by the others but
taking no heed, for she knew the reason. She was Wi’s woman, and the
rumour had run round that Wi the Strong, Wi the Great Hunter, Wi whose
little daughter had been murdered, was about to do something strange,
though what it might be none was sure. All of them longed to ask Aaka,
but there was something in her eye which forbade them, for she was
cold and stately and they feared her a little. So she went on
unmolested, looking for Foh, of whom presently she caught sight
walking in the company of Pag, who still had the reeking wolfskin on
his shoulders, of which, as he was short, the tail dragged along the
ground. She noted that, as he advanced, the people made way for him,
not from reverence or love, but because they feared him and his evil
eye.
“Look,” said one woman to another in hearing, “there goes he who hates
us, the spear-tongued dwarf.”
“Aye,” answered the other. “He is in such haste that he has forgotten
to take off the wolf’s hide he hunted in last night. Have you heard
that Buk’s wife has lost her little child of three? It is said that
the bears took it, but perhaps yonder wolf-man knows better.”
“Yet Foh does not fear him. Look, he holds his hand and laughs.”
“No, because–-” Here suddenly the woman caught sight of Aaka and was
silent.
“I wonder,” reflected Aaka, “whether we women hate Pag because he is
ugly and hates us, or because he is cleverer than we are and pierces
us with his tongue. I wonder also why they all think he is half a
wolf. I suppose it is because he hunts with Wi, for how can he be both
a man and a wolf? At least, I too believe that report speaks truth and
that he and the wolves have dealings together. Or perhaps he puts the
tale about that all may fear him.”
She came to the meeting ground and took her stand near to Foh and Pag
among the crowd which stood or sat in a ring about an open space of
empty ground where sometimes the tribe danced when they had