This matter being settled, there followed a jabber of argument as to the method of conveying the challenge of Wi to Henga the chief. Urk the Aged was consulted as to precedents and made a long speech in which he contradicted himself several times. Hou the Unstable sprang up at length and said that he was not afraid and would be the leader. Suddenly, however, he changed his mind, declaring he remembered that this office by right belonged to Wini-wini the Horn-Blower, who must sound three blasts at the mouth of the cave to summon the chief. To this all assented with a shout, perhaps because there was a sense of humour even in their primitive minds, and protest as he would, Wini-wini was thrust forward with his horn.
Then the procession started, Wini-wini going first, followed close behind by Pag in the bleeding wolfskin, who, from time to time, pricked him in the back with his sharp flint knife to keep him straight. Next came Wi himself with his brother Moananga, and after these the elders and the rest of the people.
At least, they started thus to cover the three hundred paces or so which lay between them and the cliff, but before they reached the cave, most of them lagged behind so that they were dotted in a long line reaching from the meeting place to its entrance.
Indeed, here remained only Wini-wini, who could not escape from Pag, Wi, Moananga, and, at a little distance behind, Whaka the Bird-of-Ill-Omen, prophesying evil in a ceaseless stream of words. At his side, too, was Aaka, walking boldly and looking down at his withered shape with scorn. Of the remainder, the bravest, drawn by curiosity, kept within hearing, but the rest stayed at a distance or hid themselves.
“Blow!” growled Pag to Wini-wini and, as he still hesitated, pricked him in the back with his knife.
Then Wini-wini blew a quavering blast.
“Blow again louder,” said Pag.
Wini-wini set the horn to his lips, but before a sound came out of it, a large stone hurled from the cave struck him in the middle and down he went, writhing and gasping.
“Now you have something to shake for,” said Pag, as he waddled to one side lest another stone should follow.
None came, but out of the cave with a roar rushed a huge, hairy, black-browed fellow waving a great wooden club – Henga himself. He was a mighty, thick limbed man of about forty years of age, with a chest like a bull’s, a big head from which long black hair fell upon his shoulders, and a wide, thick-lipped mouth whence projected yellow tusk-like teeth. From his shoulders, in token of his rank, hung the hide of a cave tiger and round his neck was a collar made 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 think will conquer, Pag?”
Pag stopped and pointed to the sea. At some distance from the shore a mighty struggle was in progress between a thresher shark and a whale. The terrible shark had driven the whale into shallow water, where it floundered, unable to escape by sounding. Now the sea wolf, as it is called, was leaping high in to the air, and each time as it fell it smote the whale upon the head with its awful sword-like tail, blow upon blow that echoed far and wide. The whale rolled in agony, beating the water to a foam with its giant flukes, but for all its size and bulk could do nothing. Presently, it began to gasp and opened its great mouth, whereon the thrasher, darting between its jaws, seized its tongue and tore it out. Then the whale rolled over and began to bleed to death.
“Look,” said Pag. “There is Henga the huge and mighty and there is Wi the nimble, and Wi wins the day and will feed his fill upon whale’s flesh, he and his friends. That is my answer, and the omen is very good. Now I go to make Wi ready for this battle.”
When Pag reached the hut, he sent Aaka and Foh out of it, leaving himself alone with Wi. Then, causing Wi to strip off his cloak, he made him lie down and rubbed him all over with seal oil. Also, with a sharp flint and a shell ground to a fine edge, slowly and painfully he cut is hair short, so short that it could give no hold to Henga’s hand, and, this done, greased what remained of it with the seal oil. Next he bade Wi sleep awhile and left the hut, taking with him Wi’s stone ax, also his spear, that with which he had killed the wolf, and his flint knife that was hafted with two flat pieces of ivory rubbed down from a walrus tusk and lashed onto the end of the flint.
Outside the hut, he met Aaka, who was wandering to and fro in an ill-humour. She made as though she would pass him, set ting her face toward the hut.
“Nay,” said Pag, “you do not enter.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because Wi rests and must not be disturbed.”
“So a misshapen monster, a wolf-man hated of all, who lives on bounty, may enter my husband’s hut, when I, the wife, may not,” she said furiously.
“Yes, for presently he goes upon a man’s business, namely, to kill his enemy or be killed of him, and it is best that no woman should come near to him till the thing is ended.”
“You say that because you hate women, who will not look on you, Pag.”
“I say it because women take away the strength of men and suck out their courage and disturb them with weak words.”
She leapt to one side as though to rush past him, but Pag leapt also, lifting the spear in his hand, whereon she stopped, for she feared the dwarf.
“Listen,” he said. “You do ill to reproach me, Aaka, who am your best friend. Still, I do not blame you overmuch for I know the reason of your hate. You are jealous of me because Wi loves me more than he does you, as does Foh, if in another fashion.”
“Loves you, you abortion, you hideous one!” she gasped.
“Yes, Aaka, who, it seems, do not know that there are different sorts of love, that of the man for the woman which comes and goes, and that of man for man which changes not. I say that you are jealous. Only this day I told Wi that, if he had not taken me with him hunting but had left me to watch Fo-a, she would not have been stolen and killed by yonder cave dweller. It was a lie. I could have refused to go hunting with Wi and he would have let me be, who knows that always I have a reason for what I do. I went with him because of words which you had spoken which you will remember well. I told you that Fo-a was in danger from Henga the cave-dweller and that I had best watch her, and you said that no girl child of yours should be watched by a wolf’s cub and that you would take care of her yourself, which you did not do. Therefore, because you goaded me, I went hunting and Fo-a was taken and killed.”
Now Aaka hung her head, answering nothing, for she knew that his words were true.
“Let that be,” went on Pag. “The dead are dead, and well dead, perchance. Now, although I speak wisely to you, you would thwart me again and go in to awaken Wi, even when I tell you that to do so may turn the fight against him and bring about your death, and Foh’s as well.”
“Does Wi sleep?” asked Aaka, weakening a little.
“I think he sleeps because I bade him, and in such matters he obeys me. Also, last night he slept little. But the road is open and I have said my say. Go and look for yourself. Go wake him up and ask if he is asleep and wear him out with your woman’s talk, and tell him what dreams have come to you about Fo-a and the gods, and thus make him ready to fight the devil giant, Henga.”
“I go not,” she said, stamping her foot, “lest, if Wi fall, your poisoned tongue should put it about that I was the cause of his death. But know, misshapen, outcast wolf-man, that, should he conquer and live, he must choose between you and me, for if he takes you to dwell with him in the cave, then I stay here in the hut.”
Pag laughed deep down in his throat after his fashion and answered:
“That would be peace indeed, were it not, as I remember, that, if Henga dies, he leaves behind him sundry fair women who also live in the cave and doubtless will be hard to dislodge. Still, in this matter, as in all others, do what you will. Only I tell you, Aaka, that you do ill to revile me, whom you may need presently to help you out of the world.”
Then, ceasing from his mockery and the rolling of his great head from side to side, as was his habit when he mocked, he looked her in the face with his one bright eye with which folk said he could see in the dark like a wild-cat, and said quietly:
“Why do you reproach me because I am hideous? Did I make my own shape or was it the gift of a woman? Did I throw away my right eye or did a woman dash it out against a stone? After ward, did I leave the camp to starve in the winter, or did women drive me out because I told them the truth? Why are you angry with me because I love Wi who saved me from the cruelty of women, and your son Foh whom Wi caused to be?
Why will you not understand that, although I be misshapen, yet I have more wisdom than all the rest of you and a larger heart, and that the wisdom and the heart are the servants of Wi and those with whom he has to do? Why should you be jealous of me?”
“Would you know, Pag? Because you speak truth. Because you are more to Wi than I am – yes, and to Foh also. When one comes whom Wi loves better than he does you, then we may be friends again, but not before.”
“That may happen,” said Pag reflectively. “Now trouble me no more, who go to make ready Wi’s weapons for this fight and who have no time to waste. Go now to the hut; as I have said, the way is open, and tell your own tale to Wi.”
Aaka hesitated, then she said:
“Nay, I come to help you with the weapons, for my fingers are defter than yours. Let there be peace between us for an hour, or gibe on if you will, and I will not answer.”
Again Pag laughed his great laugh, saying:
“Women are strange, so strange that even I cannot weigh or measure them. Come on! Come on! The edges of the spear and ax need rubbing, and the lashings are worn.”
For a while did Pag and Aaka, with the lad Foh to help them, fetching and carrying or holding hide strips, labour at the simple weapons of Wi, pointing the spear and grinding the edge of the ax. When this ax was as sharp as they could make it, Pag weighed the thing in his hand and cast it down with a curse.
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