Gaupa caught his eyes and gave a start; he felt an icy chill run through his being, and he remained kneeling holding the animal’s gaze. Those eyes were not soulless and empty like those of other newly-born animals. They were human eyes, plainly and undoubtedly the eyes of a human being.
Above him the raven circled round and round croaking its steady “Arrp,” “arrp” until the bird turned westward and the cry died away, an ugly threatening sound amongst the dark clouds.
Gaupa held the elk calf with both his hands. He felt the pulse shaking its frail body, and he noticed that it was a bull. Once more he had visions of the Ré Valley Swede, and heard the ugly roar that opened the epileptic attack, heard that last gasp—“Beast, Beast....”
Gaupa felt for his hunting-knife, wrenched it out of its sheath, and drew it straight across the left ear of the calf. Then he walked away with crackling steps.
The sun reached the pine-clad ridge behind him, played softly round the little calf’s head, kissed him and wished him welcome to life and to the forest.
§ 4
But Gaupa lay awake in Gipsy Lake Hut, full of memories. The dog was lying silent in sleep. Once Gaupa struck a match to light his pipe, and in one corner his rifle reflected the glow. “The Tempest” had roared once that day, and there was one elk less on the slopes of Ré Mountains.
But what Gaupa saw that morning, when aiming at the elk cow, was the calf’s left ear—it was only half an ear. It was the same calf he had handled the spring before, the elk calf with human eyes. It was he who had just cried out so uncannily like a human being under the Black Mountain, more weirdly than Gaupa had ever heard a beast cry before.
There was also something strange about the calf’s spoors that day. The clefts were not side by side as elk clefts usually are. They spread out obliquely from each other. He knew he would be able to distinguish that spoor from a thousand. Gaupa had seen many elk spoors in his life, but never any like these.
The stove in the hut ceased muttering. The flue cooled down with tiny dry cracking sounds.