to it, unobserved, and
clutched a handful of black ripe olives, and turned to meet still
another guest. And others surrounded him, and the laugh and play of wit
went on, while all the time, hidden in his closed hand, was this madness
of ripe olives.

He gave many such dinners, all with the same empty ending. He attended
Gargantuan feasts, where multitudes fed on innumerable bullocks roasted
whole, prying them out of smoldering pits and with sharp knives slicing
great strips of meat from the steaming carcasses. He stood, with mouth
agape, beneath long rows of turkeys which white-aproned shopmen sold.
And everybody bought save Smoke, mouth still agape, chained by a
leadenness of movement to the pavement. A boy again, he sat with spoon
poised high above great bowls of bread and milk. He pursued shy heifers
through upland pastures and centuries of torment in vain effort to steal
from them their milk, and in noisome dungeons he fought with rats for
scraps and refuse. There was no food that was not a madness to him, and
he wandered through vast stables, where fat horses stood in mile-long
rows of stalls, and sought but never found the bran-bins from which they
fed.

Once, only, he dreamed to advantage. Famishing, shipwrecked or marooned,
he fought with the big Pacific surf for rock-clinging mussels, and
carried them up the sands to the dry flotsam of the spring tides. Of
this he built a fire, and among the coals he laid his precious trove.
He watched the steam jet forth and the locked shells pop apart, exposing
the salmon-colored meat. Cooked to a turn--he knew it; and this time
there was no intruding presence to whisk the meal away. At last--so he
dreamed within the dream--the dream would come true. This time he
would eat. Yet in his certitude he doubted, and he was steeled for
the inevitable shift of vision until the salmon-colored meat, hot and
savory, was in his mouth. His teeth closed upon it. He ate! The miracle
had happened! The shock aroused him. He awoke in the dark, lying on his
back, and heard himself mumbling little piggish squeals and grunts of
joy. His jaws were moving, and between his teeth meat was crunching. He
did not move, and soon small fingers felt about his lips, and between
them was inserted a tiny sliver of meat. And in that he would eat no
more, rather than that he was angry, Labiskwee cried and in his arms
sobbed herself to sleep. But he lay on awake, marveling at the love and
the wonder of woman.