Allan and the Ice Gods (20 page)

“That I think I can, Wi. Without doubt he goes to hunt with the old

mother wolf, as he must do when she calls him, which is why he comes

home so tired. I hear that certain of our dead have been dug out of

the snow lately and eaten.”

“That has not been reported to me,” said Wi.

“Even a chief is not told everything, especially of those he loves,”

answered Aaka, and walked away laughing.

Two nights later Pag went to the mouth of the cave and, by wetting his

finger and holding it in the wind, tested its direction very

carefully. Then he came to Wi and whispered:

“Will you rise an hour before dawn and come with me to kill the

tiger?”

“Had we not better take others also?” asked Wi, hesitating.

“Nay. Only fools share their meat with strangers; let the glory be

ours alone. Now, ask me no more in this place where there are many

ears.”

“Good,” said Wi, “I will come with you—to kill the tiger or be killed

by it.”

So, a little more than an hour before dawn, the two of them might have

been seen slipping from the cave like shadows. But before he went, Wi

kissed Foh, who lay fast asleep at his side, because he did not think

to see him again. Also, he looked at the place where Aaka slept, and

sighed sadly. He was fully armed with his heavy ax of bright stone,

two flint-headed spears, and a knife also of flint. Pag likewise

carried two spears and a knife.

When they were clear of the huts and picking their way toward the wood

by the light of the moon, now near her death, and of the stars, Pag

said that the gale which had been raging for days seemed to have blown

itself away, and the stars shone so brightly that he prophesied fair

weather. Then Wi grew angry, exclaiming:

“Have done with your talk of the weather and the stars, and tell me

whither we go and to what end. Am I a child that you should keep me

thus in the dark?”

“Yes,” answered Pag, “I think that you are something of a child, out

of whom women can suck secrets, which cannot be said of me.”

“I return home,” said Wi, stopping.

“Yet,” went on Pag quietly, “if you would hear the tale, it is short.

Only do not stand there like a girl looking after her lover, but come

on, for our time is also short.”

“That I can well believe,” muttered Wi, as he walked forward.

“Listen,” said Pag. “You know the two rocks yonder near the edge of

the forest that people call Man and Wife because they are so close

together and yet divided.”

“Yes, I know them. Once we thought of digging a pit there, but did not

do so because the bases of the rocks slope inward and doubtless meet

just under the ground.”

“Those who would know must first look to see,” said Pag. “I heard that

talk about the pit, heard also Urk declare that his grandfather had

tried to dig one there but could not because the rocks met. Then,

because I knew that Urk’s grandfather must have been a great liar—or

perhaps it is Urk who is the liar, I went to try for myself with a

sharpened stake and found that the rocks do not meet. I found another

thing also—that the tiger used this path. So to scare him away for a

while I hung up cast-off skin garments with a man’s scent on them.

Then I set to work and dug my pitfall, a very nice pitfall, narrow

like a grave, and placed sharp stakes in it, and lit a fire at the

bottom of it to take away the smell of man, and laid pine boughs over

it which smell of themselves, and covered it with fine sand like to

that around, that I carried there in a skin filled with a shell so

that my hand never touched a grain of it, and did all other things

that might deceive a tiger.”

“This tiger cannot be deceived,” said Wi gloomily, “for is it not as

cunning as a man? How many pitfalls have we made, and has it not

walked round every one of them?”

“Yes, Wi, that tiger is cunning, but it is also lonely, and when it

sees that another tiger has crossed the pit and is waiting for it on

the farther side, then perhaps it will follow—at least, I hope so.”

“Another tiger! What do you mean?”

“That you shall learn presently. And now, Wi, I pray you to forget

that you are a good chief and to remember that you are a better

hunter, and be silent, for then there is naught to fear, because the

wind blows straight down the cleft and the tiger cannot smell us.”

Presently they came to the pit where there was a gap in a rocky ridge

at the height of a tall pine, which gap was wider at the top than at

the bottom, worn so by ice or water, perhaps. Indeed, at its foot it

did not measure more than two paces across. To one side of this cleft

lay some stones, large stones, and among these Pag told Wi to hide,

whispering:

“Be swift and lie close, for the dawn is near, and if, as I hope, the

tiger comes, it will be soon. Have your ax ready too.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Wi.

“That you shall learn. Be not astonished at anything you may see, and

do not stir unless you are attacked or I call to you.”

Then Pag slipped away into the darkness, and, kneeling on the ground,

Wi watched between a crack in the stones. By such light as there was,

having been a hunter from his youth and therefore accustomed to see in

the gloom, as wild beasts can, he perceived that, on the snow-sprinkled bottom of the cleft, for here in this shaded place the snow

had not melted, appeared footmarks, such as were made by the tiger’s

pads, of which the claws cut lines in the snow, and thought to himself

that Pag was too late, for the brute had already passed here. Then he

remembered that this could not be, because, if it had, it would have

fallen into the pit which was dug beneath.

Whence, then, came the footprints? he wondered. Soon he wondered much

more, for almost beneath him in the shadow of the rock and on the

hither side of the pitfall appeared the tiger. Yet how could the tiger

be there, seeing that they had just come to the place across open land

where there were no trees, such as grew in plenty on the farther side

of the cleft, and must have seen it. Yet it was the tiger, for he

could distinguish its striped hide, or some of it. Moreover, it

growled as do beasts of prey, and appeared to be tearing with its jaws

at something that lay before it on the snow just where the pitfall

should end.

Now, thought Wi to himself, if I spring down suddenly and hit it with

all my strength, perhaps I may break this brute’s neck or dash out its

brains with a blow of my ax before it turns upon me.

Then he remembered that Pag had said he must not stir except to defend

himself, unless he, Pag, called to him, also that Pag boasted that he

never spoke without a reason. So Wi stayed where he was and watched.

The first gray light of dawn began to gather, and though the tiger was

still hid in the shade, it fell upon that which it seemed to be

devouring, something black and round from which hung hair.

By the gods! it was the head of Henga. Now Wi understood everything.

Pag was the tiger! Yes, inside that skin, fashioned from the chief’s

cloak set out to a tiger’s shape upon a framework of twigs covered

with dried grass or seaweed, was Pag, in front of whom lay the dried

head of Henga which he pretended to devour. And to think of it! A few

moments ago he had proposed to smite this sham with his ax, thereby

killing Pag. The blood of Wi ran cold at the thought; then he forgot

it and all else. For, on the farther side of the cleft, creeping up

slowly, belly to ground, with waving tail, flashing fangs, and

bristling hair, appeared the monstrous creature they had come out to

seek. There it stood, for now it had risen to its full height which

seemed to be that of a deer; doubtfully it stood, glaring in front of

it with glowing eyes.

The other tiger beneath, or rather Pag in its skin, growled more

fiercely, tearing at the head of Henga. The monster pricked its ears

and growled back, but in a friendly fashion. Then suddenly it seemed

to smell the head of Henga and glared down at it. It stepped forward,

arched its back, and leapt as a wolf cub or a puppy leaps to seize

that which it desires for its play. The tiger rose into the air and,

with gathered paws, landed onto the covering of the pit, which broke

beneath its weight. Down into the pit it went, and after it rolled the

head of Henga. Roar upon roar rent the air as the sharp stakes which

Pag had set at the bottom of the pit sank deeper into the beast

beneath the pressure of its bulk.

Wi leapt forward from his hiding place and ran forward to Pag, who,

having cast off the stuffed-out tiger skin, stood staring into the

pit, a spear in his hand. Wi looked down and saw the huge tiger, its

eyes glowing like lamps, twisting on the stakes. Suddenly, it ceased

its awful roarings, and for one moment they thought that it was dead.

The next Pag cried:

“Beware! The brute comes.”

As he spoke, the tiger’s claws appeared over the edge of the grave-like pit, followed by its great flat head. For it had freed itself

from the stakes and with all its mighty strength was drawing itself

from the hole. Pag drove at it with his spear, wounding it in the

throat. It caught the handle with its teeth and bit it in two.

“Smite!” he said, and Wi brought down the ax upon its head, crushing

its skull—a great blow.

Yet even this did not kill the tiger. Wi struck again and shattered

one foreleg. It heaved itself upward and now it was out of the pit. It

reared up and smote at him with its uninjured paw. Wi ran back,

bending so that the blow went over his head, and Pag slipped to one

side. The tiger followed Wi, towering above him on his hind feet, for

because of its hurts it seemed that it could not spring. Wi struck

again with the ax which he wielded in both hands, and the sharp blade

sank into the beast below the breast. He strove to withdraw the ax,

which was firmly fixed in the tough hide, but, before he could do so,

the brute fell on him and down he went beneath it, and lay there

covered by its carcass.

Pag ran up and drove his remaining spear into its side, behind the

forearm. Yes, again and again he pushed with all his weight upon the

spear. Then the tiger, which had opened its mouth to seize the head of

Wi and crush it, uttered a moaning noise; its jaws closed, its head

fell down on to the face of Wi, its claws contracted, scattering the

sand, a shiver ran through its whole length, and it lay still.

Again Pag thrust at the spear, driving it in yet deeper, until he knew

that it must have pierced the beast’s heart. Then he seized one

forepaw and, putting out all his great strength, dragged at it till

the dead tiger rolled over upon its back, revealing Wi beneath,

painted red with blood.

Pag, who thought that he was dead, uttered a low cry of grief, and as

he did so Wi sat up, gasping, for the breath was pressed out of him.

“Are you torn?” asked Pag.

“I think not,” grunted Wi. “I think the claws missed me.”

“Perhaps after all there are some gods,” said Pag.

“At least there are devils,” answered Wi, looking down at the dead

monster.

“You will have a fine new cloak, a cloak of glory,” said Pag.

“Then it should cover your shoulders,” answered Wi.

Wi and Pag, leaning on each other, for, though neither was hurt, now,

after all was over, both felt very tired, walked back to the cave, for

with the carcass of the huge tiger they could do nothing by

themselves. But first Pag shook the seaweed and withies with which it

had been stuffed out of the chief’s cloak wherein he had played the

part of a tiger, and since Wi could not wear it because he was too

filthy with blood and dirt, threw it over his shoulder. But the head

of Henga he left where it lay. It had served its turn, also Pag swore

that never again did he wish to have it so close to his nose and

teeth.

When they reached the huts, it was still so near to the dawn that no

one was about, for since the people learned that the great tiger

attacked at this hour, they had become late risers. Therefore, they

came to the mouth of the cave unnoticed.

Here, however, they found some waiting for them, as Aaka, having been

awakened early by Foh who came to tell her that his father was gone

from their bed, rose to look for him. For in this matter Aaka was

strange; although so sharp with Wi when he was present, she kept a

watch on all his movements and grew disturbed when she could not see

him and did not know where he might be or why he had gone away. This

mood was strong on her that morning because she was sure in herself

that danger was near to him, especially when she learned that Pag was

also missing from the cave. Therefore, although the tiger might be on

the prowl, she bade Foh run swiftly to the hut of his uncle Moananga

and bring him to her.

So Moananga came, and with him Tana who would not be left alone in the

hut; also others whom he summoned, for, because of the tiger, if