What he did wasn’t tactful; it only made the animals hate him—­all except the dog and the robin—­and brought new dangers about his head.  It was the month of October and nights were getting shivery.  He had scraped together fallen leaves to make a bed for her and had woven a covering of withered grasses.  In spite of this, from the setting of the sun till long after its rising, all through the dark hours her teeth chattered.  She cried continually; every time she cried, out in the jungle the hyena scoffed.  The Man rarely got any rest until full day.  All night he was rubbing her back, her feet and hands in an effort to make her warm.  As a consequence he slept late and accomplished hardly any work.  He didn’t even have time to notice how all the animals were building houses.  The Woman was so fretful that he never dared leave her for longer than an hour.  The poor thing was forever complaining that God might have made her out of something better than a rib, if He was going to make her at all.

It was a colder night than usual, when the Woman was crying very bitterly and the hyena was doing more than his ordinary share of scoffing, that the idea occurred to the Man.  The hyena was scoffing because he was comfortable; he was comfortable because of the heavy coat that he wore.  The Man determined to teach him a lesson by taking his coat from him.  It was another remedy; he hoped that if he clothed the Woman with it, she might grow strong.  Telling her that he wouldn’t be gone for long, he padded stealthily away, followed by the dog, and faded out of sight among the shadows.

They found the hyena in an open space which the elephant had been clearing the day before.  He was seated on his hind legs, gazing up at the moon with his fine warm coat all bristly, scoffing and scoffing.  He was far too busy with his ill-natured merriment to hear them coming.  In a flash the dog had him by the throat, holding him while the man robbed him of his clothing.  When they had stripped him of everything, even of his bushy tail, they let him go and he fled naked, howling the alarm through the forest.  By the time they got back to the Woman all the underbrush was stirring.  From every part of the wilderness, in twos and threes, the animals were coming together.  The night was alive with their glowing eyes; the leaves trembled with their savage muttering.

“Be quick,” whispered the Man.  “Put this on.”

She dried her tears as she felt the warmth of the fur.  “It’s comfy,” she sobbed.  “It fits exactly.”  And then, “Oh, Man, I’m frightened.  What have you done?  You gave me a present once before.”

The Man was making a club out of a tree.  As he stripped it of its branches, he answered boastfully, “It was I and the dog; we did it together.  You were cold, so we stole the hyena’s coat from him.  All the animals are angry.  They know that we shall do again what we have done once.  They feel safe no longer.  They say it must be stopped.  They want to get back the hyena’s coat from us.”