To stop himself jumping forward, he shot straight up into the air for four or five feet, landing almost where he had started from. "Man!" he snapped. "A man's cub. Look!"

Right in front of him, standing up by holding on to a low branch, stood a naked brown baby who could just walk. It was very strange to see such a soft small creature come to a wolf's cave at night. He looked up into Father Wolf's face, and laughed.

"Is that a man's cub?" said Mother Wolf. "I have never seen one. Bring it here."

Wolves are used to moving their own cubs. They can, if necessary, carry an egg without breaking it. Father Wolf's jaws closed on the child's back, but his teeth didn't even scratch the child's skin as he laid it down among the cubs. "How little! How naked, and - how bold!" said Mother Wolf softly. The baby pushed between the wolf cubs to get close to the warm Mother wolf. "Ahai! He is drinking milk with the others. So this is a man's cub! There was never a wolf that could boast of a man's cub among her children!"