"My other women have children," he went on tauntingly. "They laugh at you."
"You have no child younger than ten seasons!" she said, and stamped her foot. "That is why I have no child! You are an old man!"
He started toward her with a look of furious intention. He had no spear in his hand, but he held a club with flint splinters stuck in the heavy head. She ran back to the cave mouth and put another arrow in her bow and aimed it at him. They both stood silently staring at one another. Then he threw down his club and turned away.
"Peace," he said.
"Peace," she replied, and dropped her bow. She went to the pot over the fire and sniffed it, poking at the meat with a sharp stick. "The food is ready," she said. "Will you take the pot off the fire? You have braver hands than I."
Q. How are we to find out anything about them, when you are so slow?
A. What are we supposed to find out?
Q. That is what you are supposed to find out.
A. I am to find out what I am to find out? You sound like them—like men.