Tera looked on proudly, but at last insisted on their returning home.
With her strong teeth and sickle-like claws she tore off pieces of
meat, and each little cub, seizing a piece savagely in his mouth,
trotted after its mother, who led the way straight back to their lair.

After this, however, Tera had rather an anxious time, for, once having
taught the cubs to wander forth, she could not keep them at home, and,
as she had thoughtfully made her lair near a farm, the cubs amused
themselves night after night by killing as many animals as they could
find.

Wantonly destructive, the cubs gave way to their ferocious and
bloodthirsty nature, and, as they grew stronger, they would sometimes
kill three or four cows at a time--calves, pigs, anything, in fact,
that came in their way.

Whether it was the meat diet or the freedom, Tera could never make
out, but, certain it was, that very soon, instead of consulting their
mother and depending on her for everything, the cubs grew fierce and
savage, and snarled whenever she came near them.

Being able now to supply themselves with food, they no longer cared
for the food their mother provided, and one night, when Tera had put
up with it for some time, she quietly slipped off and left them to
look out for themselves.

She forgot her children as easily as she had forgotten her husband,
and in a very short time was comfortable and happy by herself.