Although Mow had no words for love and no conception of its significance, Tanar was able to gather from his remarks that this sentiment did not exist among the Buried People. A mother looked upon each child as a threat to her existence and a prophecy of death, with the result that she loathed children from birth; nor is this strange when the fact is considered that the men chose as the mothers of their children the women whom they particularly loathed and hated, since the custom of destroying a woman who had borne three children deterred them from mating with any female for whom they might have entertained any degree of liking.
When not hunting or fishing the creatures squatted around upon their haunches staring stupidly and sullenly at the floor of their cavern.
“I should think,” said Tanar to Mow, “that, confronted by such a life, you would welcome death in any form.”
The Coripi shook his head. “I do not want to die,” he said.
“Why?” demanded Tanar.
“I do not know,” replied Mow. “I simply wish to live.”
“Then I take it that you would like to escape from this cavern, if you could,” suggested Tanar.
“Of course I should like to escape,” said Mow, “but if I try to escape and they catch me they will kill me.”
“They are going to kill you anyway,” Tanar reminded him.
“Yes, I never thought of that,” said Mow. “That is quite true; they are going to kill me anyhow.”