He did not know what death was, or what it meant,
and as Pipoonaskoos was so warm and soft he was sure that he would move
after a little. He had no inclination to fight him now.
Again it grew very, very still, and the stars filled the sky, and the fire
burned low. But Pipoonaskoos did not move. Gently at first, Muskwa began
nosing him and pulling at his silken hair, and as he did this he whimpered
softly, as if saying, "I don't want to fight you any more, Pipoonaskoos!
Wake up, and let's be friends!"
But still Pipoonaskoos did not stir, and at last Muskwa gave up all hope
of waking him. And still whimpering to his fat little enemy of the green
meadow how sorry he was that he had chased him, he snuggled close up to
Pipoonaskoos and in time went to sleep.
Langdon was first up in the morning, and when he came over to see how
Muskwa had fared during the night he suddenly stopped, and for a full
minute he stood without moving, and then a low, strange cry broke from his
lips. For Muskwa and Pipoonaskoos were snuggled as closely as they could
have snuggled had both been living, and in some way Muskwa had arranged it
so that one of the dead cub's little paws was embracing him.
Quietly Langdon returned to where Bruce was sleeping, and in a minute or
two Bruce returned with him, rubbing his eyes.
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