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.

CHAPTER XIV

The months came and went. The drama and tragedy of the future were yet
to come upon the stage, and in the meantime we pounded nuts and lived.
It--vas a good year, I remember, for nuts. We used to fill gourds
with nuts and carry them to the pounding-places. We placed them in
depressions in the rock, and, with a piece of rock in our hands, we
cracked them and ate them as we cracked.

It was the fall of the year when Lop-Ear and I returned from our
long adventure-journey, and the winter that followed was mild. I made
frequent trips to the neighborhood of my old home-tree, and frequently
I searched the whole territory that lay between the blueberry swamp and
the mouth of the slough where Lop-Ear and I had learned navigation, but
no clew could I get of the Swift One. She had disappeared. And I wanted
her. I was impelled by that hunger which I have mentioned, and wh