The wolf, however, was already recovering from the blow.  He had been merely stunned; seemingly no bones were broken.  Once more Ben turned to the mouth of the cavern.

Sobbing and white as the moonlight itself Beatrice met him in the doorway.  She too had been uninjured; his arm had saved her from the rending fangs.  She was closer to him now, filling a bigger part of his life.  He didn’t know just why.  He had fought for her; and some way—­they were more to each other.

And this was his cavern,—­his stronghold of rock where he might lay his head, his haven and his hearth, and the symbol of his dominance over the beasts of the field.  He had fought for this, too.  And he suddenly knew a great and inner peace and a love for the sheltering walls that would dwell forever in the warp and woof of his being.

PART THREE

THE TAMING

XXIX

Ben rose at daybreak, wonderfully refreshed by the night’s sleep, and built the fire at the cavern mouth.  Beatrice was still asleep, and he was careful not to waken her.  The days would be long and monotonous for her, he knew, and the more time she could spend in sleep the better.

He did, however, steal to the opening of the cavern and peer into her face.  The soft, morning light fell gently upon it, bringing out its springtime freshness and the elusive shades of gold in her hair.  She looked more a child than a woman, some one to shelter and comfort rather than to harry as a foe.  “Poor little girl,” he murmured under his breath.  “I’m going to make it as easy for you as I can.”

He meant what he said.  He could do that much, at least—­extend to her every courtesy and comfort that was in his power, and place his own great strength at her service.

His first work was to remove the skin of last night’s invader,—­the huge grizzly that lay dead just outside the cavern opening.  They would have use for this warm, furry hide before their adventure was done.  It would supplement their supply of blankets; and if necessary it could be cut and sewed with threads of sinew into clothes.  Because the animal had but recently emerged from hibernation his fur, except for a few rubbed places, was long and rich,—­a beautiful, tawny-gray that shimmered like cloth-of-gold in the light.

It taxed his strength to the utmost to roll over the huge body and skin it.  When the heavy skin was removed he laid it out, intending to stretch it as soon as he could build a rack.  He cut off some of the fat; then quartering the huge body, he dragged it away into the thickets.

The hour was already past ten; but Beatrice—­worn out by the stress of the night before—­did not waken until she heard the crack of her pistol.  She lay a while, resting, watching through the cavern opening Ben’s efforts to prepare breakfast.  A young grouse had fallen before the pistol, and her companion was busy preparing it for the skillet.