se
and repeated beatings. I have called him an atavism, but in this he
was worse than an atavism, for the males of the lower animals do not
maltreat and murder their mates. In this I take it that Red-Eye, in
spite of his tremendous atavistic tendencies, foreshadowed the coming
of man, for it is the males of the human species only that murder their
mates.

As was to be expected, with the doing away of one wife Red-Eye
proceeded to get another. He decided upon the Singing One. She was the
granddaughter of old Marrow-Bone, and the daughter of the Hairless One.
She was a young thing, greatly given to singing at the mouth of her cave
in the twilight, and she had but recently mated with Crooked-Leg. He was
a quiet individual, molesting no one and not given to bickering with
his fellows. He was no fighter anyway. He was small and lean, and not so
active on his legs as the rest of us.

Red-Eye never committed a more outrageous deed. It was in the quiet at
the end of the day, when we began to congregate in the open space before
climbing into our caves. Suddenly the Singing One dashed up a run-way
from a drinking-place, pursued by Red-Eye. She ran to her husband. Poor
little Crooked-Leg was terribly scared. But he was a hero. He knew that
death was upon him, yet he did not run away. He stood up, and chattered,
bristled, and showed his teeth.

Red-Eye roared with rage. It was an offence to him that any of the Folk
should dare to withstand him. His hand shot out and clutched Crooked-Leg
by the neck. The latter sank his teeth into Red-Eye's arm; but the next
moment, with a broken neck, Crooked-Leg was floundering and squirming on
the ground. The Singing One screeched and gibbered. Red-Eye seized her
by the hair of her head and dragged her toward his cave. He handled her
roughly when the climb began, and he dragged and hauled her up into the
cave.

We were very angry, insanely, vociferously angry. Beating our chests,
bristling, and gnashing our teeth, we gathered together in our rage. We
felt the prod of gregarious instinct, the drawing together as though for
united action, the impulse toward cooperation. In dim ways this need for
united action was impressed upon us. But there was no way to achieve it
because there was no way to express it. We did not turn to, all of us,
and destroy Red-Eye, because we lacked a vocabulary. We were vaguely
thinking thoughts for which there were no thought-symbols. These
thought-symbols were yet t