o see
the grizzly strike him to the earth.

Ben knew, too, that he was fighting for his home; and this also lent him
strength. _Home_! His shelter from the storm and the cold, the thing
that marked him a man instead of a beast. The grizzly had come to drive
him forth; and they had met beside the ashes of his fire.

The old exhilaration and rapture of battle flashed through him as he
swung his axe, sending home blow after blow. Sometimes he cried out,
involuntarily, in his fury and hatred; and as the bear weakened he waged
the fight at closer quarters. His muscles made marvelous response,
flinging him out of danger in the instant of necessity and giving
terrific power to his blows.

He danced about the shaggy, bleeding form of the bear, swinging his axe,
howling in his rage, and escaping the smashing blows of the bear with
miraculous agility,--a weird and savage picture in the moonlight. But
at last the grizzly lunged too far. Ben sprang aside, just in time, and
he saw his chance as the great, reeling form sprawled past. He aimed a
terrific blow just at the base of the skull.

The silence descended quickly thereafter. The blow had gone straight
home, and the last flicker of waning life fled from the titanic form. He
went down sprawling; Ben stood waiting to see if another blow was
needed. Then the axe fell from his hands.

For a moment he stood as if dazed. It was hard to remember all that
occurred in the countless life times he had lived since the grizzly had
stolen out of the spruce forest. But soon he remembered Fenris and
walked unsteadily to his side.

The wolf, however, was already recovering from the blow. He had been
merely stunned; seemingly no bones were broken. Once more Ben turned to
the mouth of the cavern.

Sobbing and white as the moonlight itself Beatrice met him in the
doorway. She too had been uninjured; his arm had saved her from the
rending fangs. She was closer to him now, filling a bigger part of his
life. He didn't know just why. He had fought for her; and some way--they
were more to each other.

And this was his cavern,--his stronghold of rock where he might lay his
head, his haven and his hearth, and the symbol of his dominance over the
beasts of the field. He had fought for this, too. And he suddenly knew a
great and inner peace and a love for the sheltering walls that would
dwell forever in the warp and woof of his being.

PART THREE

THE TAMING

XXIX

Ben rose