from its
claws and teeth.
“Who sends that dog to waken me from my rest?” he shouted in his
bellowing voice, and pointed with the club to Wini-wini, twisting on
the ground.
“I do,” answered Wi, “I and all the people. I, Wi, whose child you
murdered, come to challenge you, the chief, to fight me for the rule
of the tribe, as you must do according to the law, in the presence of
the tribe.”
Henga ceased from his shouting and glared at him.
“Is it so?” he asked in a quiet voice that had in it a hiss of hate.
“Know that I hoped that you would come on this errand and that is why
I killed your brat to give you courage, as I will kill the other that
remains to you,” and he glanced at the boy Foh who stood at a
distance. “You have troubled me for long, Wi, with your talk and
threats against me, of which I am hungry to make an end. Now, tell me,
when does it please the people to see me break your bones?”
“When the sun is within an hour of its setting, Henga, for I have a
fancy to sleep in the cave to-night as chief of the people,” answered
Wi quietly.
Henga glowered at him, gnawing at his lip, then said:
“So be it, dog. I shall be ready at the meeting place an hour before
the sun sets. For the rest, it is Aaka who will sleep in the cave
to-night, not you who I think will sleep in the bellies of the wolves.
Now begone, for a salmon has been sent to me, the first of the year,
and I who love salmon would cook and eat it.”
Then Aaka spoke, saying:
“Eat well, devil-man who murders children, for I, the mother, tell you
that it shall be your last meal.”
Laughing hoarsely, Henga went back into the cave, and Wi and all the
others slipped away.
“Who gave Henga the salmon?” asked Moananga idly, as one who would say
something.
“I did,” answered Pag, who was walking beside him but out of earshot
of Wi. “I caught it last night in a net and sent it to him, or rather
caused it to be laid on a stone by the mouth of the cave.”
“What for?” asked Moananga.
“Because Henga is greedy over salmon, especially the first of the
year. He will eat the whole fish and be heavy when it comes to
fighting.”
“That is clever; I should never have thought of that,” said Moananga.
“But how did you know that Wi was going to challenge Henga?”
“I did not know, nor did Wi. Yet I guessed it because Aaka sent him to
consult the gods. When a woman sends a man to seek a sign from the
gods, that sign will always be the one she wishes. So at least she
will tell him, and he will believe.”
“That is cleverer still,” said Moananga, staring at the dwarf with his
round eyes. “But why does Aaka wish Wi to fight Henga?”
“For two reasons. First, because she would revenge the killing of her
child, and, second, because she thinks that Wi is the better man, and
that presently she will be the wife of the chief of the tribe. Still,
she is not sure about this, because she has made a plan, should Wi be
defeated, that I must kill her and Foh at once, which I shall do
before I kill myself. Or perhaps I shall not kill myself, at any rate,
until I have tried to kill Henga.”
“Would you then be chief of the tribe, Wolf-man?” asked Moananga,
astonished.
“Perhaps, for a little while; for do not those who have been spat upon
and reviled always wish to rule the spitters and the revilers? Yet I
will tell who are Wi’s brother and love him that, if he dies, I, who
love him better and love no one else, save perhaps Foh, because he is
his son, shall not live long after him. No, then I should pass on the
chieftainship to you, Moananga, and be seen no more, though perhaps in
the after years you might hear me at night howling round the huts in
winter—with the wolves, Moananga, to which fools say I belong.”
Moananga stared again at this sinister dwarf whose talk frightened
him. Then, that he might talk of something else, asked him:
“Which of these two do you
Marion Faith Carol J.; Laird Lenora; Post Worth