SCE 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 bloodstained. Between the rock and the caveentrances, 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 It was Ul, thy father's wont, ere I slew him with four great stones, to climb to the tops of the tallest trees and reach forth his hand, to see if he might not pluck a But I said: "Perhaps they be as chestnut-burs." And all the tribe did But what star. And why wast thou peaceless in the laugh. Ul was also a fool. night? dost thou sing of stars? I will begin again: The bright day is gone Uk: The night maketh me sad. Uk: Thou hast forgotten, and art a fool! See, Ala, he is a fool! Ok and Un: He is a fool! All the Tribe: He is a fool! Oan: I am not a fool! This is a new thing. In the past, when ye did chant, O men, ye did leap about the Stone, beating your Thou dost not say, "gone, gone, gone!" breasts and crying, "Hai, hai, hai!" Or, Oan: I am thy cub. Suffer that I speak: so shall the tribe admire greatly. Uk: Speak on! Oan: I will begin once more: The bright day is gone. The night maketh me sad, sad Uk: Said I not that "sad" should be spoken but once? Shall I set Ok and Un upon thee with their branches? Oan: But it was so born within me-even “sad, sad— Uk: If again thou twice or thrice say "sad," thou shalt be dragged to the Stone. Oan: if the moon was great, "Hai, hai! hai, hai, hai!" But this song is made even with such words as ye do speak, and is a great wonder. One may sit at the cave's mouth, and moan it many times as the light goeth out of the sky. One of the Tribe: Aye! even thus doth he sit at the mouth of our cave, making us marvel, and more especially the women. Uk: Be still! . . . When I would make women marvel, I do show them a wolf's brains upon my club, or the great stone that I cast, or perhaps do whirl my arms mightily, or bring home much meat. How should a man do otherwise? I will have no songs in this place. Oan: Yet suffer that I sing my song unto the tribe. Such things have not been before. It may be that they shall praise thee, see Ow! Ow! I am thy cub! Yet listen: ing that I who do make this song am thy |