His tribe followed him. Dik and Tet, of course, because they were boys
and Burl led on to high adventures in which so far nobody had been
killed. Dor followed because--he being the strongest man in the
tribe--he had thoughtfully realized that his strength was not as useful
as Burl's brains and other qualities. Cori followed because she had
children, and they were safer where Burl led than anywhere else. The
others followed to avoid being left alone.
The procession toiled on and up. Presently Burl noticed that the air
seemed clearer, here. It was not the misty, only half transparent stuff
of the valley. He could see for miles to right and left. He realized the
curvature of the mountain-face. But he could not see the valley. The
mist hid that.
Suddenly he realized that he saw the cloud-bank overhead as an object.
He had never thought of it specifically before. To him it had been
simply the sky. Now he saw an indefinite lower surface which yet
definitely hid the heights toward which he moved. He and his followers
were less than a thousand feet below it. It appeared to Burl that
presently he would run into an obstacle which would simply keep him from
going any further. The idea was disheartening. But until it happened he
obstinately climbed on.
He observed that the thing which was the sky did not stay still. It
moved, though slowly. A little higher, he could see that there were
parts of it which were actually lower than he was. They moved also, but
they moved away from him as often as they moved toward him. He had no
experience of any dangerous thing which did not leap at its victims.
Therefore he was not afraid.
In fact, presently he noticed that the whiteness which was the
cloud-layer seemed to retreat before him. He was pleased. Weak things
like humans fled from enemies. Here was something which fled at his
approach! His followers undoubtedly saw the same thing. Burl had killed
spiders. He was a remarkable person. This unknown white stuff was afraid
of him. Therefore it was wise to stay close to Burl. Burl found his
vanity inflamed by the fact that always--even at its thickest--the white
cloud-stuff never came nearer than some dozens of feet. He swaggered as
he led his people up.
And presently there was brightness about them. It was a greater
brightness than the tribesfolk had ever known. They knew daylight as a
grayness in which one could see. Here was a brightness that shone. They
were not accustomed to brightness.
They were not accustomed to silence, either. The noises of the valley
were like all the noises of the lowlands. They had been in the ears of
every one of the human beings since they could hear at all. They had
gradually diminished as the valley dropped behind them. Now, in the
radiant white mist which was the cloud-layer, there were no sounds at
all, and the fact was suddenly startling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account