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:_

Thy mate wept, for that thou didst heat her.

_Uk:_

Ay! she lamented loudly. But thou shalt make thy half-sleep henceforth
at the mouth of the cave, so that when Gurr the tiger cometh, thou
shalt hear him sniff between the boulders, and shalt strike the flints,
whose stare he hatest. Gurr cometh nightly to the caves.

_One of the Tribe:_

Ay! Gurr smelleth the Stone!

_Uk:_

Be still!

(_To Ala_)

Had he not become still, Ok and Un would have beaten him with their
clubs.... But, Oan, tell us those words that were born to thee when Ala
did weep.

_Oan (arising):_

They are wonderful words. They are such:

The bright day is gone--

_Uk:_

Now I see thou art liar as well as fool: behold, the day is not gone!

_Oan:_

But the day was gone in that hour when my song was born to me.

_Uk:_

Then shouldst thou have sung it only at that time, and not when it is
yet day. But beware lest thou awaken me in the night. Make thou many
stars, that they fly in the whiskers of Gurr.

_Oan:_

My song is even of stars.

_Uk:_

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 star. But I said: "Perhaps they be as
chestnut-burs." And all the tribe did laugh. Ul was also