3
When day broke, Two-Legs sat and wept at all the destruction which he saw around him. He let the family drive the cattle together and set up the tent again. He himself sat huddled in his cloak and brooded and stared before him. Then he said:
“You bad Wind!”
And he raised his clenched fist in the direction from which it was still blowing violently.
“You destroyed my property last night,” he cried, “and might easily have killed me and mine. Now, we are setting up the tent and collecting the cattle; but you may come back, to-night or to-morrow night, and ruin everything once more.”
“So I may,” said the wind.
“You bad Wind!”
“I am not bad,” said the wind.
“Would you have me call you good, after the way you’ve treated me?” asked Two-Legs.
“I am not good,” said the wind.
“Very well, you are neither bad nor good,” said Two-Legs.
“Just so,” said the wind. “You’ve hit it.”
“I don’t know,” said Two-Legs. “But can you tell me what use it is for me to vanquish the lion and tame the ox and the horse, the camel and the elephant, when a puff of wind can destroy all that I have done? Can you tell me how I can get you into my service and what I am to use you for?”
“I can tell you nothing,” said the wind. “Catch me, conquer me, use me!”
He darted across the fields and took with him a great piece of skin that belonged to the old tent, blew it out, lifted it high in the air and carried it far away over the water. Two-Legs sat and watched it until it was out of sight.
‘VERY WELL, YOU ARE NEITHER BAD NOR GOOD’