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carried　his　body　up　the　cliff　with　me；　and　perched　out

the　night　in　the　entrance　of　my　old　cave；　wherein　were

Lop…Ear　and　my　sister。　　But　first　I　had　to　endure　a

storm　of　abuse　from　the　aroused　horde　for　being　the

cause　of　the　disturbance。　　I　had　my　revenge。　　From　time

to　time；　as　the　noise　of　the　pack　below　eased　down；　I

dropped　a　rock　and　started　it　up　again。　　Whereupon；

from　all　around；　the　abuse　of　the　exasperated　Folk

began　afresh。　　In　the　morning　I　shared　the　dog　with

Lop…Ear　and　his　wife；　and　for　several　days　the　three　of

us　were　neither　vegetarians　nor　fruitarians。



Lop…Ear's　marriage　was　not　a　happy　one；　and　the

consolation　about　it　is　that　it　did　not　last　very　long。

Neither　he　nor　I　was　happy　during　that　period。　　I　was

lonely。　　I　suffered　the　inconvenience　of　being　cast　out

of　my　safe　little　cave；　and　somehow　I　did　not　make　it

up　with　any　other　of　the　young　males。　　I　suppose　my

long…continued　chumming　with　Lop…Ear　had　become　a

habit。



I　might　have　married；　it　is　true；　and　most　likely　I

should　have　married　had　it　not　been　for　the　dearth　of

females　in　the　horde。　This　dearth；　it　is　fair　to

assume；　was　caused　by　the　exorbitance　of　Red…Eye；　and

it　illustrates　the　menace　he　was　to　the　existence　of

the　horde。　　Then　there　was　the　Swift　One；　whom　I　had

not　forgotten。



At　any　rate；　during　the　period　of　Lop…Ear's　marriage　I

knocked　about　from　pillar　to　post；　in　danger　every

night　that　I　slept；　and　never　comfortable。　　One　of　the

Folk　died；　and　his　widow　was　taken　into　the　cave　of

another　one　of　the　Folk。　　I　took　possession　of　the

abandoned　cave；　but　it　was　wide…mouthed；　and　after

Red…Eye　nearly　trapped　me　in　it　one　day；　I　returned　to

sleeping　in　the　passage　of　the　double…cave。　　During　the

summer；　however；　I　used　to　stay　away　from　the　caves　for

weeks；　sleeping　in　a　tree…shelter　I　made　near　the　mouth

of　the　slough。



I　have　said　that　Lop…Ear　was　not　happy。　　My　sister　was

the　daughter　of　the　Chatterer；　and　she　made　Lop…Ear's

life　miserable　for　him。　　In　no　other　cave　was　there　so

much　squabbling　and　bickering。　　If　Red…Eye　was　a

Bluebeard；　Lop…Ear　was　hen…pecked；　and　I　imagine　that

Red…Eye　was　too　shrewd　ever　to　covet　Lop…Ear's　wife。



Fortunately　for　Lop…Ear；　she　died。　　An　unusual　thing

happened　that　summer。　　Late；　almost　at　the　end　of　it；　a

second　crop　of　the　stringy…rooted　carrots　sprang　up。

These　unexpected　second…crop　roots　were　young　and　juicy

and　tender；　and　for　some　time　the　carrot…patch　was　the

favorite　feeding…place　of　the　horde。　　One　morning；

early；　several　score　of　us　were　there　making　our

breakfast。　　On　one　side　of　me　was　the　Hairless　One。

Beyond　him　were　his　father　and　son；　old　Marrow…Bone　and

Long…Lip。　　On　the　other　side　of　me　were　my　sister　and

Lop…Ear；　she　being　next　to　me。



There　was　no　warning。　　On　the　sudden；　both　the　Hairless

One　and　my　sister　sprang　and　screamed。　　At　the　same

instant　I　heard　the　thud　of　the　arrows　that　transfixed

them。　　The　next　instant　they　were　down　on　the　ground；

floundering　and　gasping；　and　the　rest　of　us　were

stampeding　for　the　trees。　　An　arrow　drove　past　me　and

entered　the　ground；　its　feathered　shaft　vibrating　and

oscillating　from　the　impact　of　its　arrested　flight。　　I

remember　clearly　how　I　swerved　as　I　ran；　to　go　past　it；

and　that　I　gave　it　a　needlessly　wide　berth。　　I　must

have　shied　at　it　as　a　horse　shies　at　an　object　it

fears。



Lop…Ear　took　a　smashing　fall　as　he　ran　beside　me。　　An

arrow　had　driven　through　the　calf　of　his　leg　and

tripped　him。　　He　tried　to　run；　but　was　tripped　and

thrown　by　it　a　second　time。　　He　sat　up；　crouching；

trembling　with　fear；　and　called　to　me　pleadingly。　　I

dashed　back。　　He　showed　me　the　arrow。　　I　caught　hold　of

it　to　pull　it　out；　but　the　consequent　hurt　made　him

seize　my　hand　and　stop　me。　　A　flying　arrow　passed

between　us。　　Another　struck　a　rock；　splintered；　and

fell　to　the　ground。　　This　was　too　much。　　I　pulled；

suddenly；　with　all　my　might。　　Lop…Ear　screamed　as　the

arrow　came　out；　and　struck　at　me　angrily。　　But　the　next

moment　we　were　in　full　flight　again。



I　looked　back。　　Old　Marrow…Bone；　deserted　and　far

behind；　was　tottering　silently　along　in　his　handicapped

race　with　death。　Sometimes　he　almost　fell；　and　once　he

did　fall；　but　no　more　arrows　were　coming。　　He　scrambled

weakly　to　his　feet。　　Age　burdened　him　heavily；　but　he

did　not　want　to　die。　　The　three　Fire…Men；　who　were　now

running　forward　from　their　forest　ambush；　could　easily

have　got　him；　but　they　did　not　try。　　Perhaps　he　was　too

old　and　tough。　But　they　did　want　the　Hairless　One　and

my　sister；　for　as　I　looked　back　from　the　trees　I　could

see　the　Fire…Men　beating　in　their　heads　with　rocks。

One　of　the　Fire…Men　was　the　wizened　old　hunter　who

limped。



We　went　on　through　the　trees　toward　the　cavesan

excited　and　disorderly　mob　that　drove　before　it　to

their　holes　all　the　small　life　of　the　forest；　and　that

set　the　blue…jays　screaming　impudently。　　Now　that　there

was　no　immediate　danger；　Long…Lip　waited　for　his

grand…father；　Marrow…Bone；　and　with　the　gap　of　a

generation　between　them；　the　old　fellow　and　the　youth

brought　up　our　rear。



And　so　it　was　that　Lop…Ear　became　a　bachelor　once　more。

That　night　I　slept　with　him　in　the　old　cave；　and　our

old　life　of　chumming　began　again。　　The　loss　of　his　mate

seemed　to　cause　him　no　grief。　　At　least　he　showed　no

signs　of　it；　nor　of　need　for　her。　It　was　the　wound　in

his　leg　that　seemed　to　bother　him；　and　it　was　all　of　a

week　before　he　got　back　again　to　his　old　spryness。



Marrow…Bone　was　the　only　old　member　in　the　horde。

Sometimes；　on　looking　back　upon　him；　when　the　vision　of

him　is　most　clear；　I　note　a　striking　resemblance

between　him　and　the　father　of　my　father's　gardener。

The　gardener's　father　was　very　old；　very　wrinkled　and

withered；　and　for　all　the　world；　when　he　peered　through

his　tiny；　bleary　eyes　and　mumbled　with　his　toothless

gums；　he　looked　and　acted　like　old　Marrow…Bone。　　This

resemblance；　as　a　child；　used　to　frighten　me。　　I　always

ran　when　I　saw　the　old　man　tottering　along　on　his　two

canes。　　Old　Marrow…Bone　even　had　a　bit　of　sparse　and

straggly　white　beard　that　seemed　identical　with　the

whiskers　of　the　old　man。



As　I　have　said；　Marrow…Bone　was　the　only　old　member　of

the　horde。　He　was　an　exception。　　The　Folk　never　lived

to　old　age。　　Middle　age　was　fairly　rare。　　Death　by

violence　was　the　common　way　of　death。　They　died　as　my

father　had　died；　as　Broken…Tooth　had　died；　as　my　sister

and　the　Hairless　One　had　just　diedabruptly　and

brutally；　in　the　full　possession　of　their　faculties；　in

the　full　swing　and　rush　of　life。　　Natural　death？　　To

die　violently　was　the　natural　way　of　dying　in　those

days。



No　one　died　of　old　age　among　the　Folk。　　I　never　knew　of

a　case。　Even　Marrow…Bone　did　not　die　that　way；　and　he

was　the　only　one　in　my　generation　who　had　the　chance。

A　bad　rippling；　any　serious　accidental　or　temporary

impairment　of　the　faculties；　meant　swift　death。　　As　a

rule；　these　deaths　were　not　witnessed。



Members　of　the　horde　simply　dropped　out　of　sight。　　They

left　the　caves　in　the　morning；　and　they　never　came

back。　　They　disappearedinto　the　ravenous　maws　of　the

hunting　creatures。



This　inroad　of　the　Fire　People　on　the　carrot…patch　was

the　beginning　of　the　end；　though　we　did　not　know　it。

The　hunters　of　the　Fire　People　began　to　appear　more

frequently　as　the　time　went　by。　　They　came　in　twos　and

threes；　creeping　silently　through　the　forest；　with

their　flying　arrows　able　to　annihilate　distance　and

bring　down　prey　from　the　top　of　the　loftiest　tree

without　themselves　climbing　into　it。　　The　bow　and　arrow

was　like　an　enormous　extension　of　their　leaping　and

striking　muscles；　so　that；　virtually；　they　could　leap

and　kill　at　a　hundred　feet　and　more。　This　made　them　far

more　terrible　than　Saber…Tooth　himself。　　And　then　they

were　very　wise。　　They　had　speech　that　enabled　them　more

effectively　to　reason；　and　in　addition　they　understood

cooperation。



We　Folk　came　to　be　very　circumspect　when　we　were　in　the

forest。　We　were　more　alert　and　vigilant　and　timid。　　No

longer　were　the　trees　a　protection　to　be　relied　upon。

No　longer　could　we　perch　on　a　branch　and　laugh　down　at

our　carnivorous　enemies　on　the　ground。　The　Fire　People

were　carnivorous；　with　claws　and　fangs　a　hundred　feet

long；　the　most　terrible　of　all　the　hunting　animals　that

ranged　the　primeval　world。



One　morning；　before　the　Folk　had　dispersed　to　the

forest；　there　was　a　panic　among　the　water…carriers　and

those　who　had　gone　down　to　the　river　to　drink。　　The

whole　horde　fled　to　the　caves。　　It　was　our　habit；　at

such　times；　to　flee　first　and　investigate　afterward。　We

waited　in　the　mouths　of　our　caves　and　watched。　　After

some　time　a　Fire…Man　stepped　cautiously　into　the　open

space。　　It　was　the　little　wizened　old　hunter。　　He　stood

for　a　long　time　and　watched　us；　looking　our　caves　and

the　cliff…wall　up　and　down。