Katharine Elizabeth Dopp

What do you think had become of the old man?

How do you think the Cave-men will get fire?

While Sharpeyes was talking he seemed to be hopeful.

But now his head fell, and he seemed unwilling to speak.

Strongarm urged him to go on.

At length he continued the story, but his voice was filled with sadness.

He told how the first few days of their journey everything went well.

They stopped for nothing but food and sleep, for they were anxious to get home.

No animal disturbed them on their way as long as they had fire.

But one day the sky grew dark.

A heavy rainstorm beat down upon them and put out the fire they carried.

But since they had burning punk in the bag, they thought they could light their torches again.

They waited for the rain to cease.

Then they took the punk from the bag and tried to light their torches.

But the wood was damp, and it was hard work to fan the spark into a flame.

They worked so busily that they thought of nothing except the fire.

They did not see a big-nosed rhinoceros that was watching them from among the trees.

He was almost upon them before they thought of danger.

Then they quickly sprang for the tree, but the old man lost his hold.

He fell and was trampled by the monstrous beast.

The rhinoceros tore up the ground with his horns until he had spent his rage.

Then he tramped off through the woods.

Sharpeyes paused again.

His voice choked, so that he could scarcely speak.

At length he told how he slipped down from the tree and found the old man dying.

He carried him out to a grassy spot, where the old man died.

Sharpeyes covered his body with leaves and raised a mound of stones above it.

Then he went back to the tree and searched for the lighted punk.

But there was no punk to be found.

The rhinoceros had trampled it under his feet.

In vain Sharpeyes tried to find a spark.

When at last he knew that the fire was all gone, he decided to go back to the fire country.

He went as far as the dry, rocky country, where he was chased by a pack of wolves.

He barely escaped to a neighboring tree, where the wolves kept him treed for a day.

When the wolves went away, he was nearly starved; he was tired and discouraged, too.

His clothing was torn, and his weapons were lost; so he dared not cross the dry country again.

He turned his face toward home once more, though he scarcely hoped to make the journey.

He had many narrow escapes, but he did not wish to talk about them.

For a few moments there was a deep silence.

Then the Cave-men wept.

They mourned for the old man.

They mourned for the loss of fire.

They had lost all hope.

They were filled with despair.

THINGS TO DO