The family had no idea how long they and their forefathers before them had owned and lived upon the farm. If they ever thought of it at all, they probably thought they had been there always. Really, it must have been a very, very long time--they were so thoroughly settled, so well acquainted with the land and everything on it; then they were so numerous and knew so much. It must have taken a tremendous length of time to learn all about farming and dairy work, about building, and weaving, and making things,--to have found out so much about the stars, the coming and going of the moon, the years and months which it makes,--to have so many set customs, and a religion with prayers and worship,--and lastly, to have invented writing and no end of useful arts, requiring skill and long practice. There came a time when it was no longer a family, but a great many families, which could not go on living so close together. So they began to build separate homesteads, all around the old home, but farther and farther away from it. They went on living exactly in the same way, only each new homestead had its own head. The tie of blood was strong and the separated families kept it sacred, even if they quarrelled now and then, as neighbors and relatives will at times. At last the valley became too crowded. There was no longer enough of everything for all, so that quarrelling and even fighting grew almost into a habit; the heads of families and the wise elders did their best to keep the peace, but were not much listened to. At the same time the younger people were beginning to wonder what there was on the other side of the mountains. Once in a while a huntsman, in the excitement of following his game, would climb to some high point, from which he would look down into other valleys, with more mountains beyond. Then he would take up some comrade with him, and they would stand there long, gazing and wondering. Then some of the bolder, more curious boys and youths had followed the river into the narrow passage it had broken for itself through the mountains. The first who ventured had not gone very far. They had felt dreadfully frightened and lonesome in that dark, wild pass, between the two rugged rocky walls, so high that they seemed to join at the top, showing only a little strip of blue sky, and with the water foaming and roaring deep down below, and they had been glad to get back into the safety and sunshine of their own valley. But they had gone again, many together, and got farther,--for many will be brave where one is scared,--and it became known for a positive fact that there was a way out of the valley. Of course there was much curiosity to know whither it led and what the land on the other side might be like.