It was good for the boy that he was so under the maternal dominion, and
that, as he lingered about the cave, he aided in the making of threads of
sinew or intestine, or looked on interestedly as his mother, using the
bone needle, which he often sharpened for her with his flint scraper,
sewed together the skins which made the garments of the family. The
needle was one without an eye, a mere awl, which made holes through which
the thread was pushed. As the growing boy lounged or labored near his
mother, alternately helpful or annoying, as the case might be, he learned
many things which were of value to him in the future, and resolved upon
brave actions which should be greatly to his credit. He was but a cub, a
young being almost as unreasoning in some ways as the beasts of the wood,
but he had his hopes and vanities, as has even the working beaver or the
dancing crane, and from the long mother-talks came a degree of
definiteness of outline to his ambitions. He would be the greatest hunter
and warrior in all the region!
The cave mother easily understood her child's increasing daringness and
vigor, and though swift to anger and strong of hand, she could not but
feel a pride in and tell her tales to the boy beside her. After a time,
when the family of Oak returned to the cave above and the boys were much
together again, the mother began to see less of her son.
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