Tales of Space and Time
pleasant to see. He had given her a piece of the liver, a man's piece,
and a wonderful treat for a girl to get; but as she took it the other
woman with the necklace had looked at her, an evil glance, and Ugh-lomi
had made a noise in his throat. At that, Uya had looked at him long and
steadfastly, and Ugh-lomi's face had fallen. And then Uya had looked at
her. She was frightened and she had stolen away, while the feeding was
still going on, and Uya was busy with the marrow of a bone. Afterwards
he had wandered about as if looking for her. And now she crouched among
the alders, wondering mightily what Uya might be doing with the flint
and the bone. And Ugh-lomi was not to be seen.
Presently a squirrel came leaping through the alders, and she lay so
quiet the little man was within six feet of her before he saw her.
Whereupon he dashed up a stem in a hurry and began to chatter and scold
her. "What are you doing here," he asked, "away from the other men
beasts?" "Peace," said Eudena, but he only chattered more, and then she
began to break off the little black cones to throw at him. He dodged and
defied her, and she grew excited and rose up to throw better, and then
she saw Uya coming down the knoll. He had seen the movement of her pale
arm amidst the thicket--he was very keen-eyed.
At that she forgot the squirrel and set off through the alders and reeds
as fast as she could go. She did not care where she went so long as she
escaped Uya. She splashed nearly knee-deep through a swampy place, and
saw in front of her a slope of ferns--growing more slender and green as
they passed up out of the light into the shade of the young chestnuts.
She was soon amidst the trees--she was very fleet of foot, and she ran
on and on until the forest was old and the vales great, and the vines
about their stems where the light came were thick as young trees, and
the ropes of ivy stout and tight. On she went, and she doubled and
doubled again, and then at last lay down amidst some ferns in a hollow
place near a thicket, and listened with her heart beating in her ears.
She heard footsteps presently rustling among the dead leaves, far off,
and they died away and everything was still again, except the
scandalising of the midges--for the evening was drawing on--and the
incessant whisper of the leaves. She laughed silently to think the
cunning Uya should go by her. She was not frightened. Sometimes, playing
with the other girls and lads, she had fled into the wood, though never
so far as this. It was pleasant to be hidden and alone.
She lay a long time there, glad of her escape, and then she sat up
listening.
It was a rapid pattering growing louder and coming towards her, and in a
little while she could hear grunting noises and the snapping of twigs.
It was a drove of lean grisly wild swine. She turned about her, for a
boar is an ill fellow to pass too closely, on account of the sideway
slash of his tusks, and she made off slantingly through the trees. But
the patter came nearer, they were not feeding as they wandered, but
going fast--or else they would not overtake her--and she caught the limb
of a tree, swung on to it, and ran up the stem with something of the
agility of a monkey.
Down below the sharp bristling backs of the swine were already passing
when she looked. And she knew the short, sharp grunts they made meant
fear. What were they afraid of? A man? They were in a great hurry for
just a man.
And then, so suddenly it made her grip on the branch tighten
involuntarily, a fawn started in the brake and rushed after the swine.
Something else went by, low and grey, with a long body; she did not know
what it was, indeed she saw it only momentarily through the interstices
of the young leaves; and then there came a pause.
She remained stiff and expectant, as rigid almost as though she was a
part of the tree she clung to, peering down.
Then, far away among the trees, clear for a moment, then hidden, then
visible knee-deep in ferns, then gone again, ran a man. She knew it was
young Ugh-lomi by the fair colour of his hair, and there was red upon
his face. Somehow his frantic flight and that scarlet mark made her feel
sick. And then nearer, running heavily and breathing hard, came another
man. At first she could not see, and then she saw, foreshortened and
clear to her, Uya, running with great strides and his eyes staring. He
was not going after Ugh-lomi. His face was white. It was Uya--_afraid_!
He passed, and was still loud hearing, when something else, something
large and with grizzled fur, swinging along with soft swift strides,
came rushing in pursuit of him.
Eudena suddenly became rigid, ceased to breathe, her clutch convulsive,
and her eyes starting.
She had never seen the thing before, she did not even see him clearly
now, but she knew at once it was the Terror of the Woodshade. His name
was a legend, the children would frighten one another, frighten even
themselves with his name, and run screaming to the squatting-place. No
man had ever killed any of his kind. Even the mighty mammoth feared his
anger. It was the grizzly bear, the lord of the world as the world went
then.
As he ran he made a continuous growling grumble. "Men in my very lair!
Fighting and blood. At the very mouth of my lair. Men, men, men.
Fighting and blood." For he was the lord of the wood and of the caves.
Long after he had passed she remained, a girl of stone, staring down
through the branches. All her power of action had gone from her. She
gripped by instinct with hands and knees and feet. It was some time
before she could think, and then only one thing was clear in her mind,
that the Terror was between her and the tribe--that it would be
impossible to descend.
Presently when her fear was a little abated she clambered into a more
comfortable position, where a great branch forked. The trees rose about
her, so that she could see nothing of Brother Fire, who is black by day.
Birds began to stir, and things that had gone into hiding for fear of
her movements crept out....
After a time the taller branches flamed out at the touch of the sunset.
High overhead the rooks, who were wiser than men, went cawing home to
their squatting-places among the elms. Looking down, things were clearer
and darker. Eudena thought of going back to the squatting-place; she let
herself down some way, and then the fear of the Terror of the Woodshade
came again. While she hesitated a rabbit squealed dismally, and she
dared not descend farther.
The shadows gathered, and the deeps of the forest began stirring. Eudena
went up the tree again to be nearer the light. Down below the shadows
came out of their hiding-places and walked abroad. Overhead the blue
deepened. A dreadful stillness came, and then the leaves began
whispering.
Eudena shivered and thought of Brother Fire.
The shadows now were gathering in the trees, they sat on the branches
and watched her. Branches and leaves were turned to ominous, quiet black
shapes that would spring on her if she stirred. Then the white owl,
flitting silently, came ghostly through the shades. Darker grew the
world and darker, until the leaves and twigs against the sky were black,
and the ground was hidden.
She remained there all night, an age-long vigil, straining her ears for
the things that went on below in the darkness, and keeping motionless
lest some stealthy beast should discover her. Man in those days was
never alone in the dark, save for such rare accidents as this. Age after
age he had learnt the lesson of its terror--a lesson we poor children of
his have nowadays painfully to unlearn. Eudena, though in age a woman,
was in heart like a little child. She kept as still, poor little animal,
as a hare before it is started.
The stars gathered and watched her--her one grain of comfort. In one
bright one she fancied there was something like Ugh-lomi. Then she
fancied it _was_ Ugh-lomi. And near him, red and duller, was Uya, and as
the night passed Ugh-lomi fled before him up the sky.
She tried to see Brother Fire, who guarded the squatting-place from
beasts, but he was not in sight. And far away she heard the mammoths
trumpeting as they went down to the drinking-place, and once some huge
bulk with heavy paces hurried along, making a noise like a calf, but
what it was she could not see. But she thought from the voice it was
Yaaa the rhinoceros, who stabs with his nose, goes always alone, and
rages without cause.
At last the little stars began to hide, and then the larger ones. It was
like all the animals vanishing before the Terror. The Sun was coming,
lord of the sky, as the grizzly was lord of the forest. Eudena wondered
what would happen if one star stayed behind. And then the sky paled to
the dawn.
When the daylight came the fear of lurking things passed, and she could
descend. She was stiff, but not so stiff as you would have been, dear
young lady (by virtue of your upbringing), and as she had not been
trained to eat at least once in three hours, but instead had often
fasted three days, she did not feel uncomfortably hungry. She crept down
the tree very cautiously, and went her way stealthily through the wood,
and not a squirrel sprang or deer started but the terror of the grizzly
bear froze her marrow.
Her desire was now to find her people again. Her dread of Uya the
Cunning was consumed by a greater dread of loneliness. But she had lost
her direction. She had run heedlessly overnight, and she could not tell
whether the squatting-place was sunward or where it lay. Ever and again
she stopped and listened, and at last, very far away, she heard a
measured chinking. It was so faint even in the morning stillness that
she could tell it must be far away. But she knew the sound was that of a
man sharpening a flint.
Presently the trees began to thin out, and then came a regiment of
nettles barring the way. She turned aside, and then she came to a fallen
tree that she knew, with a noise of bees about it. And so presently she
was in sight of the knoll, very far off, and the river under it, and the
children and the hippopotami just as they had been yesterday, and the
thin spire of smoke swaying in the morning breeze. Far away by the
river was the cluster of alders where she had hidden. And at the sight
of that the fear of Uya returned, and she crept into a thicket of
bracken, out of which a rabbit scuttled, and lay awhile to watch the
squatting-place.
The men were mostly out of sight, saving Wau, the flint-chopper; and at
that she felt safer. They were away hunting food, no doubt. Some of the
women, too, were down in the stream, stooping intent, seeking mussels,
crayfish, and water-snails, and at the sight of their occupation Eudena
felt hungry. She rose, and ran through the fern, designing to join them.
As she went she heard a voice among the bracken calling softly. She
stopped. Then suddenly she heard a rustle behind her, and turning, saw
Ugh-lomi rising out of the fern. There were streaks of brown blood and
dirt on his face, and his eyes were fierce, and the white stone of Uya,
the white Fire Stone, that none but Uya dared to touch, was in his hand.
In a stride he was beside her, and gripped her arm. He swung her about,
and thrust her before him towards the woods. "Uya," he said, and waved
his arms about. She heard a cry, looked back, and saw all the women
standing up, and two wading out of the stream. Then came a nearer
howling, and the old woman with the beard, who watched the fire on the
knoll, was waving her arms, and Wau, the man who had been chipping the
flint, was getting to his feet. The little children too were hurrying
and shouting.
"Come!" said Ugh-lomi, and dragged her by the arm.
She still did not understand.