t the
very roots of the wild folk's social system. It was not merely a
cruel affliction for those needlessly slain, and their relatives
(some of whom depended for life upon their exertions); but it was
an affliction for all the rest, in that it spoiled hunting for the
carnivorous, rendered feeding extremely difficult for the
non-carnivorous, and generally upset the ordered balance of things
which made life worth living for the wild people of that range. It
was as disturbing to them, and more lastingly so, by reason of the
comparative slenderness of their resources, as the passage through
a town of an armed giant, who was also a thief and a murderer,
would be to humans. Finn had been feared and respected in that
corner of the Tinnaburra; while, by some of the wild folk who, from
one cause or another, were able to afford the indulgence in such an
emotion, he had been admired. He was now feared and hated.

Now the hatred of some thousands of living creatures, even though
they may all of them be lesser creatures than oneself, is a
fearsome thing. Just as the wild people's methods of direct
communication are more limited than ours, so their indirect methods
are more perfect, more impressive, and swifter than ours. A
drawing-room full of men and women have before now shown themselves
tolerably capable in the matter of conveying a sense of their
dislike for some one person. But humans waste a lot of their
telepathic power in speech, and their most offensive method of
conveying unspoken hatred to its object and making him feel an
outcast, is as nothing by comparison with the wild folk's
achievements in this direction. If you have ever studied the life
of a kennel of hounds, for example, when the pack has made up its
corporate mind that one of its members is for some reason unworthy
of its traditions, you will remember what a masterly exposition you
saw of the art of freezing out. The offending animal, unless
removed in time, will positively wilt away and die under the
withering blast of unspoken hatred and scorn with which it is
encompassed. And hounds, from their long intercourse with talkative
humans, have lost half their skill in this respect. The wild
kindred have a way of making hatred tangible, perceptible in the
air, and in inanimate nature. They can almost bewitch the flesh
from off the hated creature's bones without ever looking at him, if
a sufficient number of them are in agreement in their hating.

When Finn ros