Before Adam by Jack London

eaten.

But to come back to the river. Food was plentiful,

principally berries and succulent roots, and on the

river bank we played and lingered for days. And then

the idea came to Lop-Ear. It was a visible process,

the coming of the idea. I saw it. The expression in

his eyes became plaintive and querulous, and he was

greatly perturbed. Then his eyes went muddy, as if he

had lost his grip on the inchoate thought. This was

followed by the plaintive, querulous expression as the

idea persisted and he clutched it anew. He looked at

me, and at the river and the far shore. He tried to

speak, but had no sounds with which to express the

idea. The result was a gibberish that made me laugh.

This angered him, and he grabbed me suddenly and threw

me on my back. Of course we fought, and in the end I

chased him up a tree, where he secured a long branch

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and poked me every time I tried to get at him.

And the idea had gone glimmering. I did not know, and

he had forgotten. But the next morning it awoke in him

again. Perhaps it was the homing instinct in him

asserting itself that made the idea persist. At any

rate it was there, and clearer than before. He led me

down to the water, where a log had grounded in an eddy.

I thought he was minded to play, as we had played in

the mouth of the slough. Nor did I change my mind as I

watched him tow up a second log from farther down the

shore.

It was not until we were on the logs, side by side and

holding them together, and had paddled out into the

current, that I learned his intention. He paused to

point at the far shore, and resumed his paddling, at

the same time uttering loud and encouraging cries. I

understood, and we paddled energetically. The swift

current caught us, flung us toward the south shore, but

before we could make a landing flung us back toward the

north shore.

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Here arose dissension. Seeing the north shore so near,

I began to paddle for it. Lop-Ear tried to paddle for

the south shore. The logs swung around in circles, and

we got nowhere, and all the time the forest was

flashing past as we drifted down the stream. We could

not fight. We knew better than to let go the grips of

hands and feet that held the logs together. But we

chattered and abused each other with our tongues until

the current flung us toward the south bank again. That

was now the nearest goal, and together and amicably we

paddled for it. We landed in an eddy, and climbed

directly into the trees to reconnoitre.

CHAPTER XIII

It was not until the night of our first day on the

south bank of the river that we discovered the Fire

People. What must have been a band of wandering

hunters went into camp not far from the tree in which

Lop-Ear and I had elected to roost for the night. The

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voices of the Fire People at first alarmed us, but

later, when darkness had come, we were attracted by the

fire. We crept cautiously and silently from tree to

tree till we got a good view of the scene.

In an open space among the trees, near to the river,

the fire was burning. About it were half a dozen

Fire-Men. Lop-Ear clutched me suddenly, and I could

feel him tremble. I looked more closely, and saw the

wizened little old hunter who had shot Broken-Tooth out

of the tree years before. When he got up and walked

about, throwing fresh wood upon the fire, I saw that he

limped with his crippled leg. Whatever it was, it was

a permanent injury. He seemed more dried up and

wizened than ever, and the hair on his face was quite

gray.

The other hunters were young men. I noted, lying near

them on the ground, their bows and arrows, and I knew

the weapons for what they were. The Fire-Men wore

animal skins around their waists and across their

shoulders. Their arms and legs, however, were bare,

and they wore no footgear. As I have said before, they

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were not quite so hairy as we of the Folk. They did

not have large heads, and between them and the Folk

there was very little difference in the degree of the

slant of the head back from the eyes.

They were less stooped than we, less springy in their

movements. Their backbones and hips and knee-joints

seemed more rigid. Their arms were not so long as ours

either, and I did not notice that they ever balanced

themselves when they walked, by touching the ground on

either side with their hands. Also, their muscles were

more rounded and symmetrical than ours, and their faces

were more pleasing. Their nose orifices opened

downward; likewise the bridges of their noses were more

developed, did not look so squat nor crushed as ours.

Their lips were less flabby and pendent, and their

eye-teeth did not look so much like fangs. However,

they were quite as thin-hipped as we, and did not weigh

much more. Take it all in all, they were less different

from us than were we from the Tree People. Certainly,

all three kinds were related, and not so remotely

related at that.

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The fire around which they sat was especially

attractive. Lop-Ear and I sat for hours, watching the

flames and smoke. It was most fascinating when fresh

fuel was thrown on and showers of sparks went flying

upward. I wanted to come closer and look at the fire,

but there was no way. We were crouching in the forks

of a tree on the edge of the open space, and we did not

dare run the risk of being discovered.

The Fire-Men squatted around the fire and slept with

their heads bowed forward on their knees. They did not

sleep soundly. Their ears twitched in their sleep, and

they were restless. Every little while one or another

got up and threw more wood upon the fire. About the

circle of light in the forest, in the darkness beyond,

roamed hunting animals. Lop-Ear and I could tell them

by their sounds. There were wild dogs and a hyena, and

for a time there was a great yelping and snarling that

awakened on the instant the whole circle of sleeping

Fire-Men.

Once a lion and a lioness stood beneath our tree and

gazed out with bristling hair and blinking eyes. The

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lion licked his chops and was nervous with eagerness,

as if he wanted to go forward and make a meal. But the

lioness was more cautious. It was she that discovered

us, and the pair stood and looked up at us, silently,

with twitching, scenting nostrils. Then they growled,

looked once again at the fire, and turned away into the

forest.

For a much longer time Lop-Ear and I remained and

watched. Now and again we could hear the crashing of

heavy bodies in the thickets and underbrush, and from

the darkness of the other side, across the circle, we

could see eyes gleaming in the firelight. In the

distance we heard a lion roar, and from far off came

the scream of some stricken animal, splashing and

floundering in a drinking-place. Also, from the river,

came a great grunting of rhinoceroses.

In the morning, after having had our sleep, we crept

back to the fire. It was still smouldering, and the

Fire-Men were gone. We made a circle through the

forest to make sure, and then we ran to the fire. I

wanted to see what it was like, and between thumb and

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finger I picked up a glowing coal. My cry of pain and

fear, as I dropped it, stampeded Lop-Ear into the

trees, and his flight frightened me after him.

The next time we came back more cautiously, and we

avoided the glowing coals. We fell to imitating the

Fire-Men. We squatted down by the fire, and with heads

bent forward on our knees, made believe to sleep. Then

we mimicked their speech, talking to each other in

their fashion and making a great gibberish. I

remembered seeing the wizened old hunter poke the fire

with a stick. I poked the fire with a stick, turning

up masses of live coals and clouds of white ashes.

This was great sport, and soon we were coated white

with the ashes.

It was inevitable that we should imitate the Fire-Men

in replenishing the fire. We tried it first with small

pieces of wood. It was a success. The wood flamed up

and crackled, and we danced and gibbered with delight.

Then we began to throw on larger pieces of wood. We

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