Dreams -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Prehistoric peoples -- Fiction
I pointed him out to Lop-Ear, and we made a rush for him. He started to
climb, but was too slow. I caught him by the leg and dragged him back.
Then we had fun. We pinched him, pulled his hair, tweaked his ears, and
poked twigs into him, and all the while we laughed with streaming eyes.
His futile anger was most absurd. He was a comical sight, striving to
fan into flame the cold ashes of his youth, to resurrect his strength
dead and gone through the oozing of the years—making woeful faces in
place of the ferocious ones he intended, grinding his worn teeth
together, beating his meagre chest with feeble fists.
Also, he had a cough, and he gasped and hacked and spluttered
prodigiously. Every time he tried to climb the tree we pulled him back,
until at last he surrendered to his weakness and did no more than sit
and weep. And Lop-Ear and I sat with him, our arms around each other,
and laughed at his wretchedness.
From weeping he went to whining, and from whining to wailing, until at
last he achieved a scream. This alarmed us, but the more we tried to
make him cease, the louder he screamed. And then, from not far away in
the forest, came a “Goëk! Goëk!” to our ears. To this there were
answering cries, several of them, and from very far off we could hear a
big, bass “Goëk! Goëk! Goëk!” Also, the “Whoo-whoo!” call was rising in
the forest all around us.
Then came the chase. It seemed it never would end. They raced us
through the trees, the whole tribe of them, and nearly caught us. We
were forced to take to the ground, and here we had the advantage, for
they were truly the Tree People, and while they out-climbed us we
out-footed them on the ground. We broke away toward the north, the
tribe howling on our track. Across the open spaces we gained, and in
the brush they caught up with us, and more than once it was nip and
tuck. And as the chase continued, we realized that we were not their
kind, either, and that the bonds between us were anything but
sympathetic.
They ran us for hours. The forest seemed interminable. We kept to the
glades as much as possible, but they always ended in more thick forest.
Sometimes we thought we had escaped, and sat down to rest; but always,
before we could recover our breath, we would hear the hateful
“Whoo-whoo!” cries and the terrible “Goëk! Goëk! Goëk!” This latter
sometimes terminated in a savage “Ha ha ha ha haaaaa!!!”
And in this fashion were we hunted through the forest by the
exasperated Tree People. At last, by mid-afternoon, the slopes began
rising higher and higher and the trees were becoming smaller. Then we
came out on the grassy flanks of the mountains. Here was where we could
make time, and here the Tree People gave up and returned to their
forest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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