Dreams -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Prehistoric peoples -- Fiction
For some time old Saber-Tooth continued dashing in and out of first the
one cave and then the other. But the two Folk merely slipped back and
forth through the connecting crevice and eluded him. In the meantime
the rest of us up the bluff had proceeded to action. Every time he
appeared outside we pelted him with rocks. At first we merely dropped
them on him, but we soon began to whiz them down with the added force
of our muscles.
This bombardment drew Saber-Tooth’s attention to us and made him
angrier than ever. He abandoned his pursuit of the two Folk and sprang
up the bluff toward the rest of us, clawing at the crumbling rock and
snarling as he clawed his upward way. At this awful sight, the last one
of us sought refuge inside our caves. I know this, because I peeped out
and saw the whole bluff-side deserted, save for Saber-Tooth, who had
lost his footing and was sliding and falling down.
I called out the cry of encouragement, and again the bluff was covered
by the screaming horde and the stones were falling faster than ever.
Saber-Tooth was frantic with rage. Time and again he assaulted the
bluff. Once he even gained the first crevice-entrances before he fell
back, but was unable to force his way inside. With each upward rush he
made, waves of fear surged over us. At first, at such times, most of us
dashed inside; but some remained outside to hammer him with stones, and
soon all of us remained outside and kept up the fusillade.
Never was so masterly a creature so completely baffled. It hurt his
pride terribly, thus to be outwitted by the small and tender Folk. He
stood on the ground and looked up at us, snarling, lashing his tail,
snapping at the stones that fell near to him. Once I whizzed down a
stone, and just at the right moment he looked up. It caught him full on
the end of his nose, and he went straight up in the air, all four feet
of him, roaring and caterwauling, what of the hurt and surprise.
He was beaten and he knew it. Recovering his dignity, he stalked out
solemnly from under the rain of stones. He stopped in the middle of the
open space and looked wistfully and hungrily back at us. He hated to
forego the meal, and we were just so much meat, cornered but
inaccessible. This sight of him started us to laughing. We laughed
derisively and uproariously, all of us. Now animals do not like
mockery. To be laughed at makes them angry. And in such fashion our
laughter affected Saber-Tooth. He turned with a roar and charged the
bluff again. This was what we wanted. The fight had become a game, and
we took huge delight in pelting him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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