, and knew that to that haven of refuge I could out-foot the
Tawny One, or old Saber-Tooth, did one or the other suddenly appear.

One late afternoon, in the village, a great uproar arose. The horde was
animated with a single emotion, that of fear. The bluff-side swarmed
with the Folk, all gazing and pointing into the northeast. I did not
know what it was, but I scrambled all the way up to the safety of my own
high little cave before ever I turned around to see.

And then, across the river, away into the northeast, I saw for the first
time the mystery of smoke. It was the biggest animal I had ever seen.
I thought it was a monster snake, up-ended, rearing its head high above
the trees and swaying back and forth. And yet, somehow, I seemed to
gather from the conduct of the Folk that the smoke itself was not the
danger. They appeared to fear it as the token of something else. What
this something else was I was unable to guess. Nor could they tell me.
Yet I was soon to know, and I was to know it as a thing more terrible
than the Tawny One, than old Saber-Tooth, than the snakes themselves,
than which it seemed there could be no things more terrible.

CHAPTER VII

Broken-Tooth was another youngster who lived by himself. His mother
lived in the caves, but two more children had come after him and he had
been thrust out to shift for himself. We had witnessed the performance
during the several preceding days, and it had given us no little glee.
Broken-Tooth did not want to go, and every time his mother left the cave
he sneaked back into it. When she returned and found him there her rages
were delightful. Half the horde made a practice of watching for these
moments. First, from within the cave, would come her scolding and
shrieking. Then we could hear sounds of the thrashing and the yelling
of Broken-Tooth. About this time the two younger children joined in. And
finally, like the eruption of a miniature volcano, Broken-Tooth would
come flying out.

At the end of several days his leaving home was accomplished. He wailed
his grief, unheeded, from the centre of the open space, for at least
half an hour, and then came to live with Lop-Ear and me. Our cave
was small, but with squeezing there was room for three. I have no
recollection of Broken-Tooth spending more than one night with us, so
the accident must have happened right away.

It came in the middle of the day. In the morning we had eaten our fill
of the carrots, an