It was not until the night of
our first day on the south bank
of the river that we discovered
the Fire People. What must have
been a band of wandering hunters
went into camp not far from the
tree in which Lop-Ear and I had
elected to roost for the night.
The voices of the Fire People
at first alarmed us, but later,
when darkness had come, we were
attracted by the fire. We crept
cautiously and silently from
tree to tree till we got a good
view of the scene.
In an open space among the
trees, near to the river, the
fire was burning. About it were
half a dozen Fire-Men. Lop-Ear
clutched me suddenly, and I could
feel him tremble. I looked more
closely, and saw the wizened
little old hunter who had shot
Broken-Tooth out of the tree
years before. When he got up
and walked about, throwing fresh
wood upon the fire, I saw that
he limped with his crippled leg.
Whatever it was, it was a permanent
injury. He seemed more dried
up and wizened than ever, and
the hair on his face was quite
gray.
The other hunters were young
men. I noted, lying near them
on the ground, their bows and
arrows, and I knew the weapons
for what they were. The Fire-Men
wore animal skins around their
waists and across their shoulders.
Their arms and legs, however,
were bare, and they wore no footgear.
As I have said before, they were
not quite so hairy as we of the
Folk. They did not have large
heads, and between them and the
Folk there was very little difference
in the degree of the slant of
the head back from the eyes.
They were less stooped than
we, less springy in their movements.
Their backbones and hips and
knee-joints seemed more rigid.
Their arms were not so long as
ours either, and I did not notice
that they ever balanced themselves
when they walked, by touching
the ground on either side with
their hands. Also, their muscles
were more rounded and symmetrical
than ours, and their faces were
more pleasing. Their nose orifices
opened downward; likewise the
bridges of their noses were more
developed, did not look so squat
nor crushed as ours. Their lips
were less flabby and pendent,
and their eye-teeth did not look
so much like fangs. However,
they were quite as thin-hipped
as we, and did not weigh much
more. Take it all in all, they
were less different from us than
were we from the Tree People.
Certainly, all three kinds were
related, and not so remotely
related at that.
The fire around which they
sat was especially attractive.
Lop-Ear and I sat for hours,
watching the flames and smoke.
It was most fascinating when
fresh fuel was thrown on and
showers of sparks went flying
upward. I wanted to come closer
and look at the fire, but there
was no way. We were crouching
in the forks of a tree on the
edge of the open space, and we
did not dare run the risk of
being discovered.
The Fire-Men squatted around
the fire and slept with their
heads bowed forward on their
knees. They did not sleep soundly.
Their ears twitched in their
sleep, and they were restless.
Every little while one or another
got up and threw more wood upon
the fire. About the circle of
light in the forest, in the darkness
beyond, roamed hunting animals.
Lop-Ear and I could tell them
by their sounds. There were wild
dogs and a hyena, and for a time
there was a great yelping and
snarling that awakened on the
instant the whole circle of sleeping
Fire-Men.
Once a lion and a lioness stood
beneath our tree and gazed out
with bristling hair and blinking
eyes. The lion licked his chops
and was nervous with eagerness,
as if he wanted to go forward
and make a meal. But the lioness
was more cautious. It was she
that discovered us, and the pair
stood and looked up at us, silently,
with twitching, scenting nostrils.
Then they growled, looked once
again at the fire, and turned
away into the forest.
For a much longer time Lop-Ear
and I remained and watched. Now
and again we could hear the crashing
of heavy bodies in the thickets
and underbrush, and from the
darkness of the other side, across
the circle, we could see eyes
gleaming in the firelight. In
the distance we heard a lion
roar, and from far off came the
scream of some stricken animal,
splashing and floundering in
a drinking-place. Also, from
the river, came a great grunting
of rhinoceroses.
In the morning, after having
had our sleep, we crept back
to the fire. It was still smouldering,
and the Fire-Men were gone. We
made a circle through the forest
to make sure, and then we ran
to the fire. I wanted to see
what it was like, and between
thumb and finger I picked up
a glowing coal. My cry of pain
and fear, as I dropped it, stampeded
Lop-Ear into the trees, and his
flight frightened me after him.
The next time we came back
more cautiously, and we avoided
the glowing coals. We fell to
imitating the Fire-Men. We squatted
down by the fire, and with heads
bent forward on our knees, made
believe to sleep. Then we mimicked
their speech, talking to each
other in their fashion and making
a great gibberish. I remembered
seeing the wizened old hunter
poke the fire with a stick. I
poked the fire with a stick,
turning up masses of live coals
and clouds of white ashes. This
was great sport, and soon we
were coated white with the ashes.
It was inevitable that we should
imitate the Fire-Men in replenishing
the fire. We tried it first with
small pieces of wood. It was
a success. The wood flamed up
and crackled, and we danced and
gibbered with delight. Then we
began to throw on larger pieces
of wood. We put on more and more,
until we had a mighty fire. We
dashed excitedly back and forth,
dragging dead limbs and branches
from out the forest. The flames
soared higher and higher, and
the smoke-column out-towered
the trees. There was a tremendous
snapping and crackling and roaring.
It was the most monumental work
we had ever effected with our
hands, and we were proud of it.
We, too, were Fire-Men, we thought,
as we danced there, white gnomes
in the conflagration.
The dried grass and underbrush
caught fire, but we did not notice
it. Suddenly a great tree on
the edge of the open space burst
into flames.
We looked at it with startled
eyes. The heat of it drove us
back. Another tree caught, and
another, and then half a dozen.
We were frightened. The monster
had broken loose. We crouched
down in fear, while the fire
ate around the circle and hemmed
us in. Into Lop-Ear's eyes came
the plaintive look that always
accompanied incomprehension,
and I know that in my eyes must
have been the same look. We huddled,
with our arms around each other,
until the heat began to reach
us and the odor of burning hair
was in our nostrils. Then we
made a dash of it, and fled away
westward through the forest,
looking back and laughing as
we ran.
By the middle of the day we
came to a neck of land, made,
as we afterward discovered, by
a great curve of the river that
almost completed a circle. Right
across the neck lay bunched several
low and partly wooded hills.
Over these we climbed, looking
backward at the forest which
had become a sea of flame that
swept eastward before a rising
wind. We continued to the west,
following the river bank, and
before we knew it we were in
the midst of the abiding-place
of the Fire People.
This abiding-place was a splendid
strategic selection. It was a
peninsula, protected on three
sides by the curving river. On
only one side was it accessible
by land. This was the narrow
neck of the peninsula, and here
the several low hills were a
natural obstacle. Practically
isolated from the rest of the
world, the Fire People must have
here lived and prospered for
a long time. In fact, I think
it was their prosperity that
was responsible for the subsequent
migration that worked such calamity
upon the Folk. The Fire People
must have increased in numbers
until they pressed uncomfortably
against the bounds of their habitat.
They were expanding, and in the
course of their expanding they
drove the Folk before them, and
settled down themselves in the
caves and occupied the territory
that we had occupied.
But Lop-Ear and I little dreamed
of all this when we found ourselves
in the Fire People's stronghold.
We had but one idea, and that
was to get away, though we could
not forbear humoring our curiosity
by peeping out upon the village.
For the first time we saw the
women and children of the Fire
People. The latter ran for the
most part naked, though the former
wore skins of wild animals.
The Fire People, like ourselves,
lived in caves. The open space
in front of the caves sloped
down to the river, and in the
open space burned many small
fires. But whether or not the
Fire People cooked their food,
I do not know. Lop-Ear and I
did not see them cook. Yet it
is my opinion that they surely
must have performed some sort
of rude cookery. Like us, they
carried water in gourds from
the river. There was much coming
and going, and loud cries made
by the women and children. The
latter played about and cut up
antics quite in the same way
as did the children of the Folk,
and they more nearly resembled
the children of the Folk than
did the grown Fire People resemble
the grown Folk.
Lop-Ear and I did not linger
long. We saw some of the part-grown
boys shooting with bow and arrow,
and we sneaked back into the
thicker forest and made our way
to the river. And there we found
a catamaran, a real catamaran,
one evidently made by some Fire-Man.
The two logs were small and straight,
and were lashed together by means
of tough roots and crosspieces
of wood.
This time the idea occurred
simultaneously to us. We were
trying to escape out of the Fire
People's territory. What better
way than by crossing the river
on these logs? We climbed on
board and shoved off. A sudden
something gripped the catamaran
and flung it downstream violently
against the bank. The abrupt
stoppage almost whipped us off
into the water. The catamaran
was tied to a tree by a rope
of twisted roots. This we untied
before shoving off again.
By the time we had paddled
well out into the current, we
had drifted so far downstream
that we were in full view of
the Fire People's abiding-place.
So occupied were we with our
paddling, our eyes fixed upon
the other bank, that we knew
nothing until aroused by a yell
from the shore. We looked around.
There were the Fire People, many
of them, looking at us and pointing
at us, and more were crawling
out of the caves. We sat up to
watch, and forgot all about paddling.
There was a great hullabaloo
on the shore. Some of the Fire-Men
discharged their bows at us,
and a few of the arrows fell
near us, but the range was too
great.
It was a great day for Lop-Ear
and me. To the east the conflagration
we had started was filling half
the sky with smoke. And here
we were, perfectly safe in the
middle of the river, encircling
the Fire People's stronghold.
We sat and laughed at them as
we dashed by, swinging south,
and southeast to east, and even
to northeast, and then east again,
southeast and south and on around
to the west, a great double curve
where the river nearly tied a
knot in itself.
As we swept on to the west,
the Fire People far behind, a
familiar scene flashed upon our
eyes.
It was the great drinking-place,
where we had wandered once or
twice to watch the circus of
the animals when they came down
to drink. Beyond it, we knew,
was the carrot patch, and beyond
that the caves and the abiding-place
of the horde. We began to paddle
for the bank that slid swiftly
past, and before we knew it we
were down upon the drinking-places
used by the horde. There were
the women and children, the water
carriers, a number of them, filling
their gourds. At sight of us
they stampeded madly up the run-ways,
leaving behind them a trail of
gourds they had dropped.
We landed, and of course we
neglected to tie up the catamaran,
which floated off down the river.
Right cautiously we crept up
a run-way. The Folk had all disappeared
into their holes, though here
and there we could see a face
peering out at us. There was
no sign of Red-Eye. We were home
again. And that night we slept
in our own little cave high up
on the cliff, though first we
had to evict a couple of pugnacious
youngsters who had taken possession.
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