leap upon her young one and disappear with it into the
neighbouring thicket. The cut of her teeth in his neck still hurt, but
his feelings were hurt more grievously, and he sat down and weakly
whimpered. This mother-weasel was so small and so savage. He was yet to
learn that for size and weight the weasel was the most ferocious,
vindictive, and terrible of all the killers of the Wild. But a portion
of this knowledge was quickly to be his.

He was still whimpering when the mother-weasel reappeared. She did not
rush him, now that her young one was safe. She approached more
cautiously, and the cub had full opportunity to observe her lean,
snakelike body, and her head, erect, eager, and snake-like itself. Her
sharp, menacing cry sent the hair bristling along his back, and he
snarled warningly at her. She came closer and closer. There was a leap,
swifter than his unpractised sight, and the lean, yellow body disappeared
for a moment out of the field of his vision. The next moment she was at
his throat, her teeth buried in his hair and flesh.

At first he snarled and tried to fight; but he was very young, and this
was only his first day in the world, and his snarl became a whimper, his
fight a struggle to escape. The weasel never relaxed her hold. She hung
on, striving to press down with her teeth to the great vein where his
life-blood bubbled. The weasel was a drinker of blood, and it was ever
her preference to drink from the throat of life itself.

The grey cub would have died, and there would have been no story to write
about him, had not the she-wolf come bounding through the bushes. The
weasel let go the cub and flashed at the she-wolf's throat, missing, but
getting a hold on the jaw instead. The she-wolf flirted her head like
the snap of a whip, breaking the weasel's hold and flinging it high in
the air. And, still in the air, the she-wolf's jaws closed on the lean,
yellow body, and the weasel knew death between the crunching teeth.

The cub experienced another access of affection on the part of his
mother. Her joy at finding him seemed even greater than his joy at being
found. She nozzled him and caressed him and licked the cuts made in him
by the weasel's teeth. Then, between them, mother and cub, they ate the
blood-drinker, and after that went back to the cave and slept.

CHAPTER V--THE LAW OF MEAT

The cub's development was rapid. He rested for two days, and then
ventured forth from th