"And as for eating," resumed Oohoo, the Wolf, "the rocks are thickly covered with moss——"
"Engh-h-h! what a diet!" grunted Bison. "But you know of their manner of life, Brother Wolf—you must have paid much attention to their ways. Now in my land when Wolves came too close we gathered our Calves in the center of the herd——"
"A most wise precaution," asserted Mooswa. "In the Calf time with us the moan of the Wolf pack caused us to make ready for battle; the Grey Runners seemed always in the way of a great hunger."
"And what of grass-eating for those cousins of mine, the Caribou—what ate they?" sharply demanded Elk.
"Caribou have this manner of life," answered Oohoo. "Just at the end of the great Cold Time all the Mothers go far into the Northland, for that is the Calf time with them; and by the shores of the great Northland water their Babe Caribou come forth in peace. And for food the Mothers eat moss, even as Musk-Ox does, for there is nothing else. Near to the coming of the Cold Time again the Mothers come back with their Calves, and the Bulls, who have been in the Southland, meet them."
"Do you eat moss, Oohoo, the Wolf?" queried Magh.
"Am I a Grass-feeder? Did I eat my straw bedding and become ill, like a wide-mouthed Monkey that I know of?"
"But have you not said, Brother Wolf, that in the Northland Musk-Ox and Caribou eat moss because there is nothing else? Then what manner of food do you find?"
"Ghurr-r-h! Eh, what?" gasped Oohoo, feeling that Magh had laid bare his mode of life.