And why not?
Little boys watch their fathers swing axes and fell trees, and feel in themselves that some day they, too, will swing axes and fell trees.

And so with me.

The life that was in me was constituted to do what my father did, and it whispered to me secretly and ambitiously of aerial paths and forest flights.
At last my father joined us.

He was extremely angry.

I remember the out-thrust of his protruding underlip as he glared down at the wild pigs.