CHAPTER XIII
THE WEAKNESS OF MAKU
A number of years passed, and Maku kept the cave while She Wolf did the hunting. She Wolf was so occupied with the business of provider, meat-getter and fish-catcher, that she did not have time to think about any of the other business of life. But it was otherwise with Maku.
There was not much for her to do after the children were weaned and she sat lazily in the sun and allowed her mind to run on old days.
It happened that a man began to hang about the cave. He had bright feathers in his hair, and whenever Maku looked at him, he blinked and nodded and showed his sharp white teeth, and sometimes she cast him a word and then he would boast and tell her of his mighty deeds.
Sometimes Maku dreamed about this man at night; but she put off going with him as long as she could, for that is the way with a woman. But one day she got to thinking about Strong Hand, and the caresses and the beatings that were equally sweet, and her blood began to run the more swiftly.
And she thought too, on the pains of labor which are so terrible that they are akin to a mighty joy, and of the downy little face that had snuggled in her bosom, and of the little hands that had gripped and tugged at her hair, and of the tiny voice that had piped in the night because of hunger.
And thinking of these things and remembering, she could not resist any longer. And the very next time the man presented himself before the cave she went with him, to be caressed, and to be beaten, and to find her happiness.
When She Wolf came back with the kill, the children ran out to meet her and they told breathlessly, and at one and the same time, how a man, adorned as to his head with bright feathers, had come and taken Maku away with him.
She Wolf was very tired, for the hunt had been long.
“It is well,” she said “for now there is one less mouth to feed.”
