Also, she
directed her retreat before me, going always in the
direction she wanted to go.
At last came the dark. She led me around the mossy
shoulder of a canyon wall that out-jutted among the
trees. After that we penetrated a dense mass of
underbrush that scraped and ripped me in passing. But
she never ruffled a hair. She knew the way. In the
midst of the thicket was a large oak. I was very close
to her when she climbed it; and in the forks, in the
nest-shelter I had sought so long and vainly, I caught
her.
The hyena had taken our trail again, and he now sat
down on the ground and made hungry noises. But we did
not mind, and we laughed at him when he snarled and
went away through the thicket. It was the spring-time,
and the night noises were many and varied. As was the
custom at that time of the year, there was much
fighting among the animals. From the nest we could
hear the squealing and neighing of wild horses, the
trumpeting of elephants, and the roaring of lions. But
the moon came out, and the air was warm, and we laughed
and were unafraid.
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