Not all the time were we people of the Lake-Dwellers devoted to our labours, because there was no need, and because it was good to play at times and there was the call of man to woman and of woman to man. There was an open space left on the great platform near the centre of all the huts, and there the youth and many of the older ones met nightly for better acquaintance or frolic or merry chatting together. There were certain sports and there was dancing to the sounds of little skin-headed drums and of stretched strings which twanged agreeably. Sometimes there were feasts and festivals as well, when old and young assembled, and then men talked of the catch or the chase or of the tribe’s affairs, and the women of what might be in their minds or hearts. There was much proud showing of ornaments--though of none to equal those of my Elka--and there was mating, and it was for the good of all that we had this meeting place. Yet it must not be said of us Lake-Dwellers that we never had anything to disturb us. The wild regions about us held too much of menace for that. The rude tribes to the east had not threatened us for years now, and with those on the northern sea we were on good terms, but there were others, outlanders and outlaws, whose lurking presence we must guard against at all times. They were bold and cruel and ruthless. It was not safe for the women to go far afield alone, and our flocks and herds must not be without guardians. Even at the time of which I am telling there had been a recent tragedy. There had come up a great storm, one such as we rarely had upon the lake, though lesser ones were frequent in our climate. It rose in the afternoon, and continued into the night, the whole lake in a turmoil, and the braced huts on the platform seeming hardly safe from the onrush and pounding of the ravening waters. Toward morning, however, the storm subsided, and the sun shone out brightly, and there rose smoke from all the dwellings, save one, the home of Dill, a good fisherman and one of my own group. There was a call to the inmates of the place, but there came no answer, and the hut was entered to learn the reason for such silence. There lay Dill and all his family, speared in the midst of the storm, slain, as we well knew, by a band of the fierce wanderers. The slain could not be brought to life, but there was something else to do, for Dill had been my close friend and there was a trail which must be followed. I gathered together as many as I could of my group of hunters and fishermen, each wearing his armour of aurochs skin and each carrying his bow and spear and axe and food for many days.