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Authors: Gilbert L. Morris

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“Who these people?” he demanded.

“They spies,” Lom cried. “Come do wrong. I give to Greska.” Then he cast an angry look at the girl. “Eena say ‘No, bring here.'”

Eena went up to the man. “These not bad people. They good.”

She turned to the Sleepers. “This my father. Chief Clag. You talk him now,” she said to Dave.

Dave bowed and then held his palms outward to show he had no weapon. “Your daughter is right, Chief Clag. We come from a long way. We are sent by a good being named Goél. He sends us to help you.”

Clag listened, and then he looked at his daughter thoughtfully. He was a short man but muscular. He had a
large head and appeared to be very strong. Like the others, he wore fur garments and carried a war club with a flint head.

Then he nodded. “We talk.” He turned to the woman standing behind him and said, “We eat.”

A sigh of relief went through Dave, and he turned to the other Sleepers. “Well, it looks like we've made it this far. Let's hope that Lom doesn't get any more big ideas.”

Sarah came up, smiling. “Somehow I think Goél's been with us, but you did fine, Dave. Just fine.”

He flushed and shrugged. “I can't take any credit. If it hadn't been for Eena, I think we'd all be dead by now.” He looked at the girl, who now began leading them along the small ledge pathway that led upward to the caves. “She's some girl, isn't she?”

Sarah smiled again. “Yes, she sure is. She's some girl, Dave!”

5

No Room for Kindness

T
he Sleepers learned that the members of the tribe referred to themselves as The People—as though they were the only people on the face of the earth.

“A pretty narrow view, isn't it?” Dave muttered when Josh gave him this information. “Pretty egotistical, if you ask me.”

“I think that's not unusual though,” Josh said. “Some of the American Indian tribes—the Sioux, I think—thought the same thing. And others.”

“Look!” Wash said. “I think it's time to eat. Let's go see if we can behave ourselves at their dinner table.”

They had entered the main cave, a gigantic natural formation.

“They never dug
this
one out with their little hatchets,” Reb said. “It'd taken them a million years.” He stared about the cavern. It was at least twenty feet high and probably forty feet wide at the broadest point. “I guess they all live together in here.”

A fire blazed in the cave opening, and some women were roasting meat on sharp sticks. Since the smoke had no way to escape except through the entrance, it filled the air, and Abigail fell to coughing.

Sarah slapped her on the back. “Don't let them see that you're offended, whatever you do.”

Then Sarah moved over to Josh. “What do you think that meat is?” She shuddered. “I hope it's not something horrible.”

“Well, whatever it is, let's try to make the best of it,” Josh said. “Look, I think the chief's winding himself up for a speech.”

Chief Clag stood before the fire and addressed the Sleepers. In essence, what he said was that they were on trial. If they proved themselves honest and honorable, they would be welcome. If they did not, they would be offered up to Greska. After Clag had finished reporting this cheerful news, he turned to Dave and grunted, “You talk.”

Dave swallowed, and Wash patted him on the back. “Go on, Dave. You tell 'em.”

Dave bowed to the chief and then began to speak. He said, “Chief Clag, and all of you members of The People, we thank you for allowing us into your home. We thank you for your hospitality.”

Actually he thought he was making a rather good speech. But he saw them scratching their heads and realized he would have to speak much more simply. “Thank you for the meat that I suppose you are going to share with us.” He thanked them for everything he could think of and finally bowed again and stepped back.

Wash whacked him on the shoulder and said, “You done fine, brother, just fine!”

Then the Sleepers were given their first meal, which proved to be an education. They soon discovered that there was no such thing as a “dinner table.”

The meal began when Clag gave a sharp command and the women came forward. Not only were there no tables, there were no plates, no knives, no forks. Each member of The People snatched his chunk of meat off one of the sharpened sticks and fell back, gnawing at it, casting his eyes around like a dog afraid someone would steal his meal.

Abigail received her portion gingerly, took a bite of it in despair, and chewed. “I suppose it's something horrible,” she said, “but actually it doesn't taste too bad.”

“What does it taste like to you, Reb?” Josh asked the tall Southerner.

Reb was chomping thoughtfully. “Well, mostly I guess it tastes like hawk.”


Hawk!
What does
that
taste like?”

“Hawk? Why, I guess it tastes a little bit like fox.”

Josh threw up his hands. “Whatever we're eating now won't be as bad as eating a fox.”

Reb grinned. “Rightly, it tastes a little bit like possum. Not quite as greasy though. Ain't bad, is it?”

Abigail had been watching The People eat, and she said angrily, “Look at that! The women and children! They get what's left over, and there's not much. I'd like to tell those men a thing or two.”

“Wait a minute, Abbie,” Dave cried in alarm. “Don't get anything stirred up. Remember what Goél said—we're supposed to do things slowly, not interfere with their habits.”

“All right,” Abbie said grimly, “but sooner or later, we're going to do something about
that!”

After the meal was finished, Dave sat down beside Eena.

She smiled at him.

And then Dave noticed Lom, seated across the cave with his back against the wall, scowling at him. “Is that your boyfriend, Eena?”

“Boyfriend? What a boyfriend?”

Dave never had so much trouble trying to explain a simple expression. When he had finally finished, Eena said, “No, he not my mate.”

“I didn't exactly mean that.”

“Maybe he like to be,” Eena said with satisfaction. Then she gave Dave another smile, “You want fight him for me?”

Dave took one look at the deadly looking ax that lay at Lom's feet and said quickly, “No, no, I don't think I'd like to do that!”

“You no think I nice?”

Then Dave spent the next five minutes trying to patch up his mistake. He managed somehow to convince the young girl that she was
very
nice but that he did not want to offend Lom, therefore he would not fight him for her.

Eena seemed not quite satisfied, but she said, “Come, I show you something.”

Dave followed her across the cavern to where she paused before a young man with brown hair and mild brown eyes.

“Come, Beno,” she commanded.

The young man got up at once. As they left the cave, Dave saw that he limped. His right leg was twisted, and his foot would not meet the floor easily.

The three walked down the ledge to a much smaller cave, not more than ten feet square. They stepped inside, and Eena said, “This Beno's cave. Show him, Beno.”

The young man, who was apparently very shy, straddled a log and picked up what appeared to be a small stone. With the other hand he pulled from his pocket a larger rock with sharp edges. He put the small stone on the log, aimed carefully, and struck it a sharp blow. A flake of stone fell off. He struck again and again, and all of a sudden Dave understood.

“Why, he's making an ax head—out of flint.”

“Yes. Beno only one among People who can do. You try?”

Dave was fairly clever with his hands so he agreed at once. Sitting down, he held the stone Beno gave him, gripped the larger rock, and took careful aim. He struck, but it was his own finger that he hit.

“Ow!” He dropped both stones.

Eena and Beno laughed, and for a moment he stared at them angrily. Then he joined in, saying, “I guess I'll leave the ax-head making to you, Beno. It's very good work. How do you know where to hit it?”

The young man shrugged. “I just know.”

“He make many things, all good,” Eena said proudly. “Now I show you something.”

They left Beno behind in the cave, and as they walked down toward a clearing, Dave said, “It's a shame he's crippled.”

“What is‘crippled'?”

“I mean, he can't walk very well.”

“No. Fell from big cave when he little. Never walk good since.”

They reached what appeared to be a small field of tall grass. Eena looked up at him proudly. “This mine!”

“This field is yours?”

“Field belong nobody.
This
mine!” She reached down and plucked up a stalk of the grass.

He saw now that it was some sort of grain. He looked over the field and understood. “You mean you grew this?”

“Yes. Here, you eat.” She stripped off a handful of the heads, poured them into his palm, and did the same for herself. “Eat,” she said. “Very good.”

The grain had a slightly dusty taste but a rather pleasant, nutty flavor. He almost strangled when he tried to swallow but managed to get it down. “Very good,” he agreed.

“Start little.” She made a sign with her hand. “Long time ago. Every year I scatter more. Now, big field.”

Actually it was a rather small field, but Dave saw the potential. “I think I can show you how to make this a lot better to eat, Eena. We'll have a regular bread factory, if you'll just give me time.”

“What ‘bread'?” she asked, a puzzled look on her face.

“I'll have to show you.”

As they climbed back to the large cave, she said, “Tribe no like grass. They say better eat meat. But sometimes meat hard to find. Grass always good, even when put in cave for long time.”

Dave stared at her with admiration. “You're probably the first farmer in Nuworld.” Then, recognizing that she did not know what a farmer was, he said, “I can help you with this, Eena, and it'll be a good thing for your people.”

By the time they got back, it was growing dark. Dave joined the other Sleepers, who formed a little island at one side of the cave. While they sat talking, he studied The People and noticed that they kept looking fearfully at the cave opening.

Josh said, “What's wrong with them? They look afraid.”

“I think they're afraid of the dark.”

“I don't blame them for
that!”
Abigail shuddered. “With those T-rexes outside and no telling what else, it's something to be afraid of.”

“I guess that's why they live in this cave up here. A T-rex couldn't get up that cliff—or any of those dinosaurs.” Jake nodded. “Pretty smart.”

As time passed and the darkness became complete, the cave was lit by only the flickering fire.

Suddenly an old man got up and stalked to the cave mouth. He was wearing bracelets made of bone, and his face was painted.

“I hadn't noticed him before, but I bet I know what he is,” Sarah said.

“What?” Josh demanded.

“I bet he's their witch doctor. My parents used to say every tribe back in Oldworld had a witch doctor of some kind.”

Her words seemed to be true. The old man began to dance around, uttering strange sounds. His chant grew shriller as time went on, and then the witch doctor walked back and forth before the frightened members of the tribe, shaking a sort of rattle in their faces.

He chanted of the horrible things that lay outside in the dark that only he and Greska, the sun god, could save them from.

Moans of fear went over The People, and children buried their faces against their mothers' sides. Even the strong warriors had nothing to say but sat with lips clenched.

At last the weird old man came to the Sleepers, and an evil light shone in his eyes. He shook his rattle in Jake's face and renewed his chant.

Jake looked around with a frightened expression himself. “What's he doing anyway?”

And then the medicine man—his name was Grak, Eena said—shouted, “Feed to Greska! Make Greska happy!”

“This sounds like the same thing we heard before,” Dave said in alarm, but before he could say more, Lom and another young man leaped up and seized Jake by his arms.

Grak snatched up a war club and raised it as though to bash Jake's brains out.

Dave scrambled to his feet, but Eena's voice stopped him.


Father!”

Clag at once said, “No! No! No food for Greska.”

Grak screamed, but the chief was adamant. “They no be killed. Not yet,” he said firmly. There was a fierce
struggle of will between Grak and Clag, but it was the chief who won out. He lifted his ax and motioned toward the small, wizened figure of Grak. “No.” Then he turned around and said, “People sleep now.”

Jake's face was pale. “That was a close one. We'll have to watch our step around here.”

“You're right about that!” Wash agreed. “That old guy's mean clear through. I've seen lots of folks like him.”

“Well, I don't guess we're going to be shown to our room in the Holiday Inn,” Dave said. “Looks like we better just roll up right here.” He saw that all the tribes-people had fur robes. “And they're not offering us any of those, so it'll be blankets for us.”

The People watched as the Sleepers pulled blankets from their backpacks, and there was a babble of voices as though they had done something magical.

Abigail and Sarah were arranging their sleeping spot when Abbie said, “What's that man looking at you for?” She indicated a hairy, short, stocky individual who had been staring intently at Sarah.

“He's been looking at me like that ever since we came,” Sarah muttered. “I wish he'd look at somebody else.”

Abigail shuddered. “I wouldn't be surprised but what he's thinking about offering to buy you. That seems to be the way they do things around here. I feel sorry for the women and children.”

“Yes, they need kindness,” Sarah answered.

Abigail let the silence run on, interrupted now and then by the sounds of a crying child and the shuffling of the old woman who kept the fire going. Then she said, “I don't guess there's much room for kindness. Not in this world.”

“I think that's why Goél sent us here—to show a little kindness.”

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