In such case it will have learned something.
"Maybe it will butt and butt against the tree until it dislodges a limb
from high among the branches, and the limb will fall to the ground and
crush, shall we say--the waiting wolf? And, maybe the calf will butt,
learn that the tree is immovable, swallow its hurt, and pass on, giving
the tree a wide berth--pass on into the quagmire, with the wolf licking
his chops, as grinning, he points out the way."
Chloe, in spite of herself, was intensely interested.
"But," she asked, "you are quite sure the tree is immovable?"
"Quite sure."
"Suppose, however, that this particular tree is rotten--rotten to the
heart? That the very roots that hold it in place are rotten? And that
the moose-calf butts 'til he butts it down--what then?"
There was a gleam of admiration in MacNair's eyes as he answered:
"If the tree is rotten it will fall. But it will fall to the mighty
push o' the winds o' God--and not to the puny butt of a moose-calf!"
Chloe Elliston was silent. The man was speaking again. "Good day to
you, madam, or miss, or whatever one respectfully calls a woman.
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