ten one another, frighten even
themselves with his name, and run screaming to the squatting-place. No
man had ever killed any of his kind. Even the mighty mammoth feared his
anger. It was the grizzly bear, the lord of the world as the world went
then.

As he ran he made a continuous growling grumble. "Men in my very lair!
Fighting and blood. At the very mouth of my lair. Men, men, men.
Fighting and blood." For he was the lord of the wood and of the caves.

Long after he had passed she remained, a girl of stone, staring down
through the branches. All her power of action had gone from her. She
gripped by instinct with hands and knees and feet. It was some time
before she could think, and then only one thing was clear in her mind,
that the Terror was between her and the tribe--that it would be
impossible to descend.

Presently when her fear was a little abated she clambered into a more
comfortable position, where a great branch forked. The trees rose about
her, so that she could see nothing of Brother Fire, who is black by day.
Birds began to stir, and things that had gone into hiding for fear of
her movements crept out....

After a time the taller branches flamed out at the touch of the sunset.
High overhead the rooks, who were wiser than men, went cawing home to
their squatting-places among the elms. Looking down, things were clearer
and darker. Eudena thought of going back to the squatting-place; she let
herself down some way, and then the fear of the Terror of the Woodshade
came again. While she hesitated a rabbit squealed dismally, and she
dared not descend farther.

The shadows gathered, and the deeps of the forest began stirring. Eudena
went up the tree again to be nearer the light. Down below the shadows
came out of their hiding-places and walked abroad. Overhead the blue
deepened. A dreadful stillness came, and then the leaves began
whispering.

Eudena shivered and thought of Brother Fire.

The shadows now were gathering in the trees, they sat on the branches
and watched her. Branches and leaves were turned to ominous, quiet black
shapes that would spring on her if she stirred. Then the white owl,
flitting silently, came ghostly through the shades. Darker grew the
world and darker, until the leaves and twigs against the sky were black,
and the ground was hidden.

She remained there all night, an age-long vigil, straining her ears for
the things that went on below in the darkness, and keeping motionless