Stories of Enchantment

by Jane Pentzer Myers

“Now the winter waxed colder and fiercer, and cruel hunger dwelt in each tepee. Many little ones died, for there was no food for them; and there was mourning in the village. The Wolf-Maiden’s heart was filled with pity; she went to the mothers and offered them meat for the children. When they drew back she said, ‘Is it not better to give this to the children than to see them die? Do not I eat it, and am I a wolf?’

“Then her face grew red as the sky when the sun bids it good night. The mothers finally accepted the meat, although with many a smothered curse for the giver. The children grew strong and rosy again; and the parents watched them anxiously, to see if claws or fur would appear on them.

“But the Wolf-King and his subjects grew weary with the toil of supplying so many with food; and in sulky silence they retired to their dens and slept the time away. Then, when the Wolf-Maiden had gone to his den, and had called the king to come to her without avail, she sought the old mother-wolf, and she said, ‘Oh, mother, dost thou not care that thy child lacks food? and see, my lazy brother will not hunt for me.’

“And the wolf-mother said, ‘Daughter, I know well that it is not for thyself thou demandest food, but for the helpless beings among whom thou dost dwell. What is it to me that they starve? Have they not taken thee from me, and dost thou not blush when thou rememberest that thou wast once a wolf?’

“‘Not so,’ answered the maid; ‘I blush rather for the cruel heart that a wolf-skin can cover. Give me now my wolf-skin robe: I will find food for those helpless little ones.’

“Then hastily snatching the robe she flung it over her shoulders, and she was changed into a wolf, and, speeding away across the snow, she was quickly lost to view in the distance. Then the old wolf-mother sprang to the door of her cave and sent a cry of alarm and anguish up the valley. It entered the door of the Wolf-King’s den, and awoke the sleeping monarch. He ran with great leaps down the valley to his mother’s home. She quickly told him her story, and bemoaned her own and her son’s selfishness.

“‘Thy sister will die, will die! And I, her mother, have sent her to her death. She is all unused to the hunt, she will perish alone in the bitter cold! Follow her! Bring her back!’

“Then the king ran swiftly down the valley, giving the hunting call as he ran; and all the wolves of the pack awoke and called to each other: ‘The king will hunt to-day!’ And there was a gathering and mustering of the strong ones of the tribe. And the king said, ‘Come, follow, follow quickly, we are on the track of a wolf. I warn ye all, let no one harm the stranger should we meet with it; for it is my royal sister, returned to us once more!’

“Now the Wolf-Maiden ran long and far over the dim snow-covered plain, but found nothing; for she was unused to the hunt, and knew not how to track or to follow. Presently she drew near the great black forest, wherein dwelt the Bear-King. But this she did not heed, for just on the edge of the forest an antelope started up from the long, high grass and brush, and sprang away among the great trees. The Wolf-Maiden followed closely on its trail. She did not see the wicked eyes, cruel claws, or gleaming teeth above her. Just as she sprang on the antelope, a blow from the great bear’s paw struck her down. She sprang to her feet, all the royal blood in her body aroused by the blow; but who could strive against that terrible arm? Suddenly through the forest rang the royal hunting call of the Wolf-King, and the great bear turned to face as cruel a fate as he had planned for the Wolf-Maiden. Then came the combat: terrible blows were given and taken, growls and snarls of rage, the wild joy and glow of the battle. The Wolf-Maiden, forgetting all but her wolf nature, joined in the struggle, and helped to drag the monster to the ground.

“When the battle was over and the bear was dead, the pack withdrew to a respectful distance, and formed a circle around the dead bear and antelope. They watched the Wolf-King and his sister divide the spoil; a large portion for the helpless children, a smaller portion for their mother and themselves. And when they were served, the wolves closed in around the carcasses and left scarcely the bones.