“That is, Dave, because we’re human beings we’re kings in the forest among the animals.”

“You put it right, Robert.  They look up to us.  Is anything watching us among the leaves near by, Tayoga?”

“A huge bald-headed eagle, Great Bear, is sitting on a bough in the center of a mass of green leaves.  He is looking at us, and while he is full of curiosity and some admiration he fears and hates us more.”

“What is he saying to himself, Tayoga?”

“You can read his words to himself by the look in his eyes.  He is saying that he does not like our appearance, that we are too large, that we have created here something hot and flaming, that we behave with too much assurance, going about just as if the forest was ours, and paying no attention to its rightful owners.”

“He has got a grievance, and perhaps it’s a just one,” laughed Robert.

“No, it is not,” said Tayoga, “because there is plenty of room in the forest for him and for us, too.  I can read his eyes quite well.  There is much malice and anger in his heart, and I will give him some cause for rage.”

He picked up a live coal between the ends of two sticks, and holding it firmly in that manner, walked a little distance among the trees.  Then swinging the sticks he hurled the coal far up among the boughs.  There was an angry screech and whirr and Robert saw a swift shadow passing between his eyes and the sky.

“His heart can burn more than ever now,” laughed Tayoga, as he returned to the fire.

“You’ve hurt his dignity, Tayoga,” said Robert.

“So I have, but why should he not suffer a loss of pride?  He is ruthless and cruel and when he has his way he makes desolation about him.”

“What else is watching us, Tayoga?”

“A beast upon the ground, and his heart is much like that of the eagle in the air.  He is crouched in a thicket about twenty yards away, and his lips are drawn back from his sharp fangs.  His nostrils twitch with the odor of our food, and his yellow eyes are staring at us.  Oh, he hates us because he hates everything except his own kind and very often he hates that.  He wants our food because he’s hungry—­he’s always hungry—­and he would try to eat us too if he were not so much afraid of us.”

“Tayoga, one needs only a single glance to tell that this animal you’re talking about is a wolf.”

“It is so, Dagaeoga.  A very hungry and a very angry wolf.  He is cunning, but he does not know everything.  He thinks we do not see him, that we do not know he is there and that maybe, after awhile, when we go to sleep, he can slip up and steal our food, or perhaps he can bring many of his brothers, and they can eat us before we awake.  Now, I will tell him in a language he can understand that it’s time for him to go away.”

He picked up a heavy stick and threw it with all his might into the bushes on their right.  It sped straighter to the target than he had hoped, as there was a thud, a snarling yelp, and then the swift pad of flying feet.  Tayoga lay back and laughed.