went on to explain that wolves lived in packs led by the dominant female. When she came into season she would mate the male in the pack who was in the best condition and who was the strongest; thereby ensuring that her young cubs would inherit the strength, stamina and speed of the mate. Wolf packs, therefore, were made of extended family members. Uncles and aunts and the young of the dominant pair were not allowed to breed.
In this way the wolf pack makes sure that only the fittest are allowed to breed. As the cubs grow older and reach breeding condition, both the dominant male and female will drive away any wolf that challenges them and will not submit until one day they become too old or infirmed. At that point a younger, fitter, female or male will win the contest and drive the older wolf out. In this way, the integrity and health of the pack is maintained.
It was Aguirre’s opinion that the dead wolf that the boy had found was a female that had been driven out of her pack by her mother. It had happened when she had reached maturity and breeding condition and had unsuccessfully made a challenge for the pack. She had not judged the right time to make her challenge. She had wondered about in heat and by chance, had bred with a dog. This was rare but not unknown since wolves and dogs were closely related. However, cubs from crossbreeding seldom survived. In the wild the wolf pack members would bring food to the female and her cubs. The dog would not have stayed. He would have returned to his master and the she-wolf would have been left to starve with her cubs.
He had found the cub in the nick of time, and it was by the will of the Gods that the cub had survived at all. What the Gods intended for him and the cub, only time would tell. The Gods were cruel and unpredictable like the wolf-dog. They would have some purpose, which would be made known to Inaki in time. That it would involve great danger, of that he had no doubt. That made the training that he would give of the greatest importance, since it could mean their survival or death.
“What do you call this animal?” Aguirre asked.
“ Eramaitza, ” Inaki replied in Basque.
Aguirre began to chuckle. This grew into an uncontrollable fit of laughter until for the second time he fell off the stool and onto the floor.
“ Eramaitza, ” he said, laughing so uncontrollably that he held his sides in pain.
“ Eramaitza ,” he said again and howled with laughter. The wolf-dog stood up and turned his head to one side inquiringly. He looked at the man as if he had gone completely mad. Aguirre lay on the floor completely out of control . How apt , he thought, what every Basque fears most. The eramaitza (storm) that comes so suddenly with no warning and takes all before it. It was the Basque word for that phenomenon of nature, which only the people of the mountains knew. ‘Mountain Storm,’ he had called the wolf-dog. What an understatement. The eramaitza was howling winds, torrential rain and lightning all rolled into one. It was the expression of the Gods in full, unrelenting anger. It washed away mountainsides, homes, cattle and sheep without mercy. It was 10,000 diablos let loose on an unsuspecting world. It fitted the animal perfectly. Inaki and Storm would come down from the mountains in the inky darkness and fall on their enemies. Storm, ninety pounds of solid muscle and bone, would rip open throats with his fifty-four razor sharp teeth. The thought struck Aguirre like iced water. A chill ran up this spine and brought him abruptly to his senses. What in the name of all the Gods had he let himself in for?
He stood up and in a cold matter-of-fact voice he said: “We must rest. We have a hard day ahead of us. Take two sheepskins and sleep by the fire.”
The boy said nothing; it was not the right time for words. He took the skins and made his bed.
“ Gabon, ” said Aguirre.
“ Gabon, ” replied the boy. (It was Basque for, ‘goodnight’.)
Storm, turned