“I did it, Mother Wolf,” replied the leader, “because I remember how we used to play together when young, and because I wanted to see justice done. But now that you’ve got your foster child home, what are you going to do with him? He can’t hunt with the pack, and not being under their protection they will hunt him down and kill him. Wherever he goes they will follow. You can’t always stay in the den watching him. You must hunt with the pack at times to get your share of food. If you stay here alone you’ll starve.”
Mother Wolf looked troubled, and said nothing. She knew how true Black Wolf’s words were, and she had not taken them lightly. When he finally left her, she walked into the cave with Washer by her side. It was empty. Sneaky and the cubs had not yet returned.
“They’re out hunting, and won’t return until morning,” she said. “Now, Little Brother, we can find some rest.”
But Washer was not anxious for rest—not in the Wolf’s den. He felt that the nights adventure had broken up his old home. There could no longer be any ties to hold him to it. In time the cubs would side with pack and turn upon him.
“I can never stay here,” he said suddenly. “If I do I’m in constant danger, and you, too, will be in trouble. The whole pack will turn against you. I must leave.”
“But where can you go, Little Brother?” asked Mother Wolf anxiously.
“I must return to my own people.”
“But they won’t have you. Didn’t you say one of them bit you and threatened your life?”
“Yes, but he didn’t know me. I must find one of my real brothers, and he will understand.”
Mother Wolf sat down and considered. After a while she got up and paced back and forth in the den. “Maybe you’re right,” she said finally, stopping before him. “There would be nothing but danger here for you, and in time my own children would drive you out and perhaps kill you. Yes, it’s better that you should return to your own people. But if they won’t have you, I’ll still protect you.”