His uncle wasn't much gentler with him. "Eric the _Eye_!" the
Trap-Smasher growled. "Eric the Eyebrow, Eric the Closed Eyelash,
you'll be known as, if you don't wake up! Now stay abreast of me and
try to _act_ like Eric the Eye. These are dangerous burrows and my
vision isn't as sharp as yours. Besides, I have to fill you in on a
couple of things." He turned. "Spread out a little farther back there,"
he called out to the men behind him. "Spread out! You should be a full
spear-cast from the backside of the man in front of you. Let me see a
real strung-out column with plenty of distance between each warrior."
* * * * *
To Eric, he muttered, once the maneuver had been completed: "Good.
Gives us a chance to talk without everyone in the band hearing us. You
can trust my bunch, but still, why take chances?"
Eric nodded, with no idea what he was talking about. His uncle had
become slightly odd recently. Well, he was still the best band captain
in all Mankind.
They marched along together, the light from the strange glowing
substance on Eric's torch and his uncle's forehead spreading a
yellowish illumination some hundred feet ahead of them. On either side,
underfoot, overhead, were the curved, featureless walls of the burrow.
From the center of the corridor, where they marched, the walls looked
soft and spongy, but Eric knew what tremendous labor was involved in
digging a niche or recess in them. It took several strong men at least
two sleep periods to make a niche large enough to hold a handful of
Mankind's store of artifacts.
Where had the burrows come from? Some said they had been dug by the
ancestors when they had first begun to hit back at the Monsters. Others
claimed the burrows had always been there, waiting for Mankind to find
them and be comfortable in them.
In all directions the burrows stretched. On and on they went,
interminably curving and branching and forking, dark and silent, until
human beings stamped into them with glow lamp and glow torch. These
particular corridors, Eric knew, led to Monster territory. He had been
along them many times as a humble spear carrier when his uncle's band
had been dispatched to bring back the necessities of life for Mankind.
Other corridors went off to more exotic and even more dangerous places.
But were there any places which had no burrows?
What a thought! Even the Monsters lived in burrows, big as they were
reputed to be. But there was a legend that Mankind had once lived
outside burrows, outside the branching corridors. Then what had they
lived in? Just trying to work it out made you dizzy.
They came to a place where the burrow became two burrows, each curving
away from the other in opposite directions.
"Which one?" his uncle demanded.
Eric unhesitatingly pointed the right.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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