CHAPTER XIX
THE COURTING OF DAWN
When Sunrise got back to his cave, he found She Wolf sitting alone by the fire.
“Where is Dawn?” he said, for She Wolf was not first in his affections.
“She has gone to fish thro’ the ice,” said She Wolf, “and she will return soon.”
“I have just found One Eye dead in his cave,” said Sunrise.
“It is well,” said She Wolf, “for now there is one less mouth to feed.”
“One mouth more or less matters little.”
“What you think, I think,” said She Wolf, “and therefore as you say a mouth or two more in this cave would not matter.”
“Whom do you wish to bring to this cave?” said Sunrise.
“I wish you and Dawn to bring the extra mouth,” said She.
“I do not understand,” said Sunrise.
“The matter is simple,” said She Wolf, “and Dawn will not say no to you.”
Sunrise sat and thought.
“There is a time for all things,” he said presently, “Hitherto I have been very busy with a number of things. But I have always intended one day to make a cave of my own and take Dawn to it. For always when I am away from her there is a something which keeps calling me back to her side. But she is very young still, and not strong, and I will wait.”
“You are of an age,” said She Wolf, “and even if you are willing to wait, I know of others that are not willing.”
“Who?” said Sunrise suspiciously.
“Dawn,” said She Wolf.
“You spoke of others.”
“When you are at a distance,” said She Wolf, “certain young men, sticking bright feathers in their hair, come and hang about this cave.”
“They do, do they,” said Sunrise angrily. “And what do they want.”
“It may be that they want me,” said his mother with a grin, “but I do not think so. Listen then. Whenever Dawn shows herself, these young men, fall to blinking and nodding their heads and showing their teeth—.”
“I will kill them,” cried Sunrise and he reached for his bow.
“There is an easier way.”
“Name it.”
“Take her yourself.”
“Tell me one thing,” said Sunrise, “does she throw looks and words to these young men.”
“She does not,” said She Wolf.
“Then,” said Sunrise, “I will not kill them, and when the spring comes, I will hollow a cave and take Dawn to live in it. But now the ground is like stone and no man may dig it. Furthermore it is customary to wait until the spring. Let these things be understood.”
When Sunrise saw Dawn coming up from the river with her catch, he knew that she must be cold. Therefore he threw sticks and brush upon the fire so that it shot upward and gave out delicious warmth.
“Behold!” said Dawn, “I have caught three fishes, one for each. But they are very little.”
“You are a mighty fisher,” said Sunrise, “and when we have a cave of our own, you shall do the fishing and the hunting, while I lie in the sun or before the fire.”
Thus in a bantering voice Sunrise proposed to Dawn.
And she turned away her face and was silenced. And thus she accepted him. She Wolf took the fish and went aside to clean them.
“It will be in the spring,” said Sunrise, “when the earth is soft for digging and the leaves are green on the trees. Are you willing?”
She turned and looked him full in the face.
“I am willing,” she said. Her eyes clung to his and his to hers. He tried to speak but his voice choked in his throat, and for the first time in his life, desire like a flame swept him from head to heel. And mingled with the desire was a nameless shrinking and terror—a shrinking from himself and a terror of Dawn.
He mastered himself and spoke in a thick voice.
“Dawn,” he said, “after this I will hunt for this cave, and collect wood for this fire, but I will not live here any more.”
He rose and went silently into the forest.
“Where is he going,” asked She Wolf from a distance.
“He is not going to live in this cave any more,” said Dawn. “But he will come every day and bring us meat and wood for the fire.”
Then She Wolf chuckled and went on cleaning the fish, but Dawn ran into the cave and hid herself.
