A change in the battle crushed him under both their bodies
and wrenched loose his hold. The next moment the two mothers separated,
and, before they rushed together again, the lynx lashed out at the cub
with a huge fore-paw that ripped his shoulder open to the bone and sent
him hurtling sidewise against the wall. Then was added to the uproar the
cub's shrill yelp of pain and fright. But the fight lasted so long that
he had time to cry himself out and to experience a second burst of
courage; and the end of the battle found him again clinging to a hind-leg
and furiously growling between his teeth.
The lynx was dead. But the she-wolf was very weak and sick. At first
she caressed the cub and licked his wounded shoulder; but the blood she
had lost had taken with it her strength, and for all of a day and a night
she lay by her dead foe's side, without movement, scarcely breathing. For
a week she never left the cave, except for water, and then her movements
were slow and painful. At the end of that time the lynx was devoured,
while the she-wolf's wounds had healed sufficiently to permit her to take
the meat-trail again.
The cub's shoulder was stiff and sore, and for some time he limped from
the terrible slash he had received. But the world now seemed changed. He
went about in it with greater confidence, with a feeling of prowess that
had not been his in the days before the battle with the lynx.
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