Foam—A Razor-Backed Hog 
movement ceased, and a bloody, muddy mass was 
all that was left of the Kogar’s Bear. 
And Prunty gazed like one who had no thought 
of time or space, or any consciousness but this: he 
was fighting that fight himself. He watched the 
strong hog warrior win, and felt the victory was his 
own. He loved him: yes, loved him as a man of 
strength must love a brave, hard fighter. He saw 
the great, big-hearted brute come quickly to him- 
self, turn wholly calm, and the little pigs come fear- 
fully to root and tear at the fallen foe, then rush 
away in fright at some half-fancied sign of life. 
He saw the gentleness the mates showed each to 
each, and ever there were little things that told of 
, a bond of family love. Animal, physical love, if 
, ye will, but the love that endures and fights, and 
, still endures. And the man looked down at the 
, thing that his hands were clutching, the long, shiny, 
: deadly thing for murder wrought, and ready now 
prepared. A little sense of shame came on him, 
. and it grew. ‘‘He saved my Iil’ gel, and this was 
“ my git-back.” Then, again, with power returned 
the feelings of the day when his Lizette, the only 
,, thing he had on earth to love, came home ablaze 
» to tell of the rattlesnake fight —with power these 
’ feelings came, and he was deeply moved as then. 
Her words had sudden value now. Yes, she was 
85 
