“This,” she said, “is the sky. And this place, at the top, is the top of the sky. And when the sun is at the top of the sky and there is no shadow, I will have ready the dinner, hot and sweet in the pot, and dessert--for a surprise. And when the sun is at the top of the sky and there is no shadow, do you come to eat it, _always_. That will be dinner.” “That is well,” said the Troglodyte, like a true knight--for in those first days even true knights were willing that women should cook and cave-tidy for them all day long and do little else. But that was long ago and we must forgive it. Then she made a mark in the salt at the edge of the circle a little way around from the first mark. “When the sun is at the edge of the sky and all red, and the shadows are long, and the dark is coming, I will have ready berries and nuts and green stuffs and sweet syrups and other things that I shall think of--for you. And when the sun is at the edge of the sky and all red, and the shadows are long, and the dark is coming, do you hurry to us, _always_. That will be supper.” “That is well,” said the Troglodyte, like a true knight. Then she drew the stick a long way round. “This is sleep,” she said. “This place here is waking, and breakfast. And then next the sun will be at the top of the sky again. And we will have dinner in the same fashion. And this is right for you. But what to do with the child I don’t know, unless I keep her practising from the time the sun is at the top of the sky until it is at the bottom. For if she can’t play when she grows up, what will people think?” Now, while she said this, the Prehistoric Woman had been sitting with the stick on which the flesh had been roasted held straight up in her fingers, resting in the middle of the ring which she had made in the salt. And by now the moon was high and white in the sky. And the Man saw that the moon-shadow of the stick fell on the circle from its centre to beyond its edge. And presently he stretched out his hand and took the stick from her, and held it so and sat very still, thinking, thinking, thinking.... “Faddie,” said Vertebrata--she called him that for loving--“Faddie, will you make me a little bow and arrow and scrape ’em white?” But her father did not hear her, and instead of answering he sprang up and began drawing on the soft earth before the cave a deep, deep circle, and he ran for the long stick that had carried his game-bag over his shoulder, and in the middle of the earth circle he set the stick. “Watch a thing!” he cried.