THE COMING OF SHOOMOO
Now the first great day in little Shasta's wolf life was the day when
he left the cave for the first time and came out into the open world.
He didn't know why he was to go out, nor what going out really meant.
All he knew was that, suddenly, there was a movement of all the cubs
towards the place where the light came from, and that it seemed
natural for him to follow the movement.
When he crawled outside, the sunlight hit him smack in the face like
a hot white hand, and then, when he got over that, the world swam in
upon his little brain in the way of a coloured dream. It was a very
splendid dream, in which everything was new and strange and beautiful
beyond all words to describe. The baby wolf-brothers sat in a row
and blinked out at the dream, sniffing at it with their puppy noses
because of the instinct within them that even dreams must be smelt if
you would find out what they are. And it seemed to them to be a very
good dream, smelling of grass and flowers, and of hot rocks, and of
the sharp scent which the pine trees loose on the summer air. And
there, on a rising piece of ground, sat the old wolf-mother, also
smelling the good world, only that, besides the smell of the trees
and rocks, she could distinguish those other odours of living
creatures which drift idly down the wind.
[Illustration: THE BABY WOLF-BROTHERS SAT IN A ROW ... SNIFFING WITH
THEIR PUPPY NOSES]
Shasta, a little way behind his wolf-brothers, sat down too. When a
large curious dream comes it is better to sit and watch what it will
do; otherwise, if you begin to walk about in it, you may fall over
something, and come to a bad end! So Shasta sat and blinked at the
thing, and waggled his fingers and his toes. He smelt at the thing
also, and to him, as to the others, it seemed a good and pleasant
smell, and he gurgled with delight. The sound he made was so funny
that the cubs turned round to see what was happening. But when they
saw that it was only the foster-brother being odd as usual, they
turned away again and went on smelling at the world.
High up above his head, Shasta saw something very white and hot. It
was so dazzling that he couldn't look up at it for more than a moment
at a time, and because the thing hurt his eyes, and set queer round
plates dancing in front of them when he looked away, he gave up
looking at it. Yet always he was conscious that it was there--the
hot white centre to this curious dream. And once he lifted a little
hairy hand to give it a cuff for being so hot and silly; only,
somehow, the hand didn't quite reach, and when he tried a little
higher, he overbalanced and fell over on his back.
This was a signal for the cubs to rush at him and have a game. So
for a long time, Shasta cuffed at them and wrestled with them, and
sometimes got the better of them, and sometimes was badly beaten and
worried like a rat. Of course neither he nor they had any idea that
this delightful scuffling and cuffing was really the beginning of
their education, and that their muscles were being trained and their
limbs strengthened for their battle with the world when they should
be grown up, and babies no longer.
Suddenly, as if by magic, the play stopped dead, with Shasta and the
cubs locked in a fierce embrace. Old Nitka never made a sound, nor
any outward sign, which ordered the play to cease. Yet in a
twinkling the cubs were back into the den, while Nitka had risen from
her point of observation, with her eyes set hard to the north.
Shasta sat up and stared. The last wolf-brother was wobbling his fat
body into the cave's mouth. Shasta felt, in some odd unexplained
way, that he ought to follow, and that it was because Nitka had
willed it, that the cubs had gone in. Yet because he was a man-baby,
and not a wolf-cub, he stayed where he was and stared at his
foster-mother with large and wondering eyes. But Nitka did not look
at him. Her eyes were far away over the tops of the spruces and
pines--far away to a certain spot where a level rock jutted out from
the great "barren" that stretched like a roof along the windy top of
the world. If Shasta had followed the direction of Nitka's eyes, he
would have seen what looked like the form of a large timber-wolf
lying crouched upon the rock, with his nose well into the wind. Only
Shasta had no eyes for anything but Nitka. He had never seen her
look so fierce before. All her great body was stiffened as if with
steel springs. Just above her tail her hair was raised, as is the
way when a wolf or dog is roused for fight; and in her gleaming eyes,
burning like dull coals, there was a green, unpleasant light. Shasta
could not tell what ailed his foster-mother. Only, in a dim way, he
felt that something was amiss. And the feeling made him
uncomfortable, as when a grown-up person says nothing to you, but has
a slap ready in the hands.
Presently Nitka saw the other wolf slip off the rock and disappear in
the spruce scrub at its base. And then, as before, she let herself
down, and the bristles flattened above her tail. She seemed to rest
in her body, and to give up all her bones to the warmth of the summer
afternoon. Near by, the stream fell down the hill-side with a sleepy
murmur, and the grasshoppers chirruped in the grass. There was
nothing to be seen except, high up in the air, a sweep of slow wings
that bore Kennebec, the great eagle, in his solemn circles above the
canyon at the foot of the mountain. Kennebec was a mighty person in
his own world, as many a wolf and mountain sheep knew to their cost.
Many and many a lamb and wolf-cub had gone to the feeding of
Kennebec's children in their dizzy eyrie built among the steeples of
the rocks. But as long as Kennebec kept to his own canyon, and did
not cast a wicked eye upon her babies, Nitka did not worry about him,
and had all her senses on the watch for danger nearer at hand. For
in spite of all her look of outward laziness, every nerve that she
had, every muscle of her strong body, was ready at a moment's notice
to send her flying at any creature which dared to venture within
striking distance of the den.
For a long time nothing happened. Then Nitka growled softly, looking
at Shasta as she did so. Now Shasta knew perfectly well that the
growl was meant for him. Up to the present he had been disobedient,
though he didn't quite know how. Nitka wished him to return to the
cave with the cubs, and Shasta, though he felt some instinct telling
him to go, could not understand what it meant, and so remained
exactly where he was. And so far Nitka had been very patient. She
had simply gone on wanting him to get back into safety, but she had
not looked or spoken. The soft growl, rumbling down there in her
deep throat, was not a pleasant thing to hear. It sent a thrill down
Shasta's little spine. He began to feel dreadfully uncomfortable,
and to wish that he was safe inside the cave. Yet still he did not
move, because the man-cub inside his heart was not inclined to bow
down before the wolves.
Again Nitka growled, this time louder than before. And to make it
more pointed, she looked at Shasta as she growled. He had never seen
her look at him like that before. The light in her eyes was not at
all agreeable. There was a threat in it, as to what she might do if
Shasta did not obey. He began to edge away towards the cave. After
he had gone two or three yards he stopped. This behaviour of Nitka
was so curious that he wanted to find out what it meant. Something
was going to happen. Without in the least knowing what it might be,
Shasta felt that something was in the air. But there was no
resisting that look in Nitka's eyes. With a whimpering cry, Shasta
scrambled to the entrance of the cave. Once inside the den's mouth,
however, his courage came to him again, and he turned to look back.
As he peeped, he saw the form of a huge grey wolf glide into the open
space. Nitka herself was large, but this other wolf was nearly half
as big again and much more formidable. His great limbs and deep
chest were wonderful to see. Between his shoulders was a dark patch
of hair which was thicker than the rest of his coat, and, when the
winter came, would become a sort of mane. He stood nearly three feet
high at the shoulders--a giant of his breed.
As to Nitka herself, she was plainly in a rage. The hackles on her
back were raised; her body was crouched low as if to leap, her limbs
were bent under her like powerful springs to send the whole weight of
her great body hurling through the air; while, if her eyes had shone
threateningly before when she looked at the disobedient Shasta, now
they gleamed with a green light that seemed like living flame.
So the two wolves stood facing each other, the huge stranger not
seeming to like the look of things, with Nitka snarling defiance at
him, and prepared to give her very life in the defence of her cubs.
Shasta, peeping timidly out from the mouth of the cave, felt certain
that some terrible thing was about to happen. He was terrified by
two things: first, by the mysterious coming of the stranger wolf,
then by the awful anger of Nitka, which, if once let loose, must
surely tear the new world to pieces, hot white centre and all!
Behind him, in the cave, the cubs were motionless and made no sound.
They huddled closely together as if they knew, though they could not
see it, that, out there in the sunlight, a strange thing was
happening with which it would be fatal to interfere. So there they
huddled, and pressed their fat furry bodies against each other, and
tried to be comforted by each other's fat and fur.
Then Shasta, looking out boldly, saw a very odd thing. He saw the
he-wolf make a step towards Nitka with a sort of friendly whine in
his throat, and Nitka, instead of springing at him, remained crouched
where she was. And although she kept on growling, and saying the
most dreadful things as before, somehow or other she seemed less
vicious, and the green glare was softening in her eyes. Seeing this,
the other wolf grew bolder, and drew closer step by step.
It was a very slow approach, as if the giant he-wolf was fully aware
that any sudden action of his would bring Nitka on him like a fury,
with those long fangs of hers bared to strike. And then at last the
two wolves were so close together that their noses touched. And in
this touch of their noses, and the silent conversation which
followed, everything was explained and understood, and made clear for
the future.
So that was how Shasta saw the return of Shoomoo, the father of his
foster-brothers, and Nitka's lawful mate. After that Shoomoo became
a recognized person in the world who came and went mysteriously,
never saying when he was going, nor telling you where when he had
come back. Only that did not matter in the least. The really big
thing was that when father Shoomoo did come back, he seldom returned
empty-handed, or I should say empty-mouthed, since a wolf uses his
mouth as a carry-all, instead of his paws.