m obliged to bathe before listening to
you?" demanded the Strong Man, insolently.

"No," said the young philosopher. All the people thought this reply very
strange.

"Why, then, must I bathe and eat of fruit and gaze at the earth and the
sky?"

"Because they are pleasant things to do."

"Have I, do you think, any thirst at this time for pleasant things?"

"Bathe, eat, gaze," said the young philosopher with a gesture.

The Strong Man did, indeed, whirl his bronzed and terrible limbs in the
silver water. Then he lay in the shadow of a tree and ate the cool fruit
and gazed at the sky and the earth. "This is a fine comfort," he said.
After a time he suddenly struck his forehead with his finger. "By the
way, did I tell you that my wife had fled from me?"

"I know it," said the young philosopher.

Later the Strong Man slept peacefully. The young philosopher smiled.

But in the night the little men of the valley came clamouring: "Oh,
Strong Man of the Hills, the moon derides you!"

The philosopher went to them in the darkness. "Be still, little people.
It is nothing. The derision of the moon is nothing."

But the little men of the valley would not cease their uproar. "Oh,
Strong Man! Strong Man, awake! Awake! The moon derides you!"

Then the Strong Man aroused and shook his locks away from his eyes.
"What is it, good little men of the valley?"

"Oh, Strong Man, the moon derides you! Oh, Strong Man!"

The Strong Man looked, and there, indeed, was the moon laughing down at
him. He sprang to his feet and roared. "Ah, old, fat, lump of moon, you
laugh! Have you seen my wife?"

The moon said no word, but merely smiled in a way that was like a flash
of silver bars.

"Well, then, moon, take this home to her," thundered the Strong Man, and
he hurled his spear.

The moon clapped both hands to its eye, and cried: "Oh! Oh!"

The little people of the valley cried: "Oh, this is terrible, Strong
Man! He has smitten our sacred moon in the eye!"

The young philosopher cried nothing at all.

The Strong Man threw his coat of crimson feathers upon the ground. He
took his knife and felt its edge. "Look you, philosopher," he said. "I
have lost my wife, and the bath, the meal of fruit in the shade, the
sight of sky and earth are still good to me, but when this false moon
derides me, there must be a killing."

"I understand you," said the young philosopher.

The Strong Man ran off into the night. The little men of the vall