"That's what I did," Josiah went on. "I ran away." He fumbled for his
watch hurriedly. "We've just time to catch the train for California. I
live there now. Maybe Agatha, your mother, will come along afterward.
I'll tell you all about it on the train. Come on."
He gathered the half-frightened, half-trusting boy into his arms for a
moment, then, hand in hand, they fled across the yard, out of the gate,
and down the street. They heard the kitchen door open, and the last they
heard was:
"Johnnie!--you! Why ain't you sawing? I'll attend to your case
directly!"
THE FIRST POET
SCENE: _A summer plain, the eastern side of which is bounded by grassy
hills of limestone, the other sides by a forest. The hill nearest to the
plain terminates in a cliff, in the face of which, nearly at the level
of the ground, are four caves, with low, narrow entrances. Before the
caves, and distant from them less than one hundred feet, is a broad,
flat rock, on which are laid several sharp slivers of flint, which, like
the rock, are blood-stained. Between the rock and the cave-entrances, on
a low pile of stones, is squatted a man, stout and hairy. Across his
knees is a thick club, and behind him crouches a woman. At his right and
left are two men somewhat resembling him, and like him, bearing wooden
clubs. These four face the west, and between them and the bloody rock
squat some threescore of cave-folk, talking loudly among themselves. It
is late afternoon. The name of him on the pile of stones is Uk, the
name of his mate, Ala; and of those at his right and left, Ok and Un._
_Uk:_
Be still!
(_Turning to the woman behind him_)
Thou seest that they become still. None save me can make his kind be
still, except perhaps the chief of the apes, when in the night he deems
he hears a serpent.... At whom dost thou stare so long? At Oan? Oan,
come to me!
_Oan:_
I am thy cub.
_Uk:_
Oan, thou art a fool!
_Ok and Un:_
Ho! ho! Oan is a fool!
_All the Tribe:_
Ho! ho! Oan is a fool!
_Oan:_
Why am I a fool?
_Uk:_
Dost thou not chant strange words? Last night I heard thee chant strange
words at the mouth of thy cave.
_Oan:_
Ay! they are marvellous words; they were born within me in the dark.
_Uk:_
Art thou a woman, that thou shouldst bring forth? Why dost thou not
sleep when it is dark?
_Oan:_
I did half sleep; perhaps I dreamed.
_Uk:_
And why shouldst thou dream, not having had more than thy portion of
flesh? Hast thou slain a deer in the forest and brought it not to the
Stone?
_All the Tribe:_
Wa! Wa! He hath slain in the forest, and brought not the meat to the
Stone!
_Uk:_
Be still, ye!
(_To Ala_)
Thou seest that they become still.... Oan, hast thou slain and kept to
thyself?
_Oan:_
Nay, thou knowest that I am not apt at the chase. Also it irks me to
squat on a branch all day above a path, bearing a rock upon my thighs.
Those words did but awaken within me when I was peaceless in the night.
_Uk:_
And why wast thou peaceless in the night?
_Oan:_
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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