grinning. And yet, though he had just begun to exert his strength, in
that moment he wrenched my shoulder so that I suffered from it for the
remainder of my life.

And in that moment something happened. There was no warning. A great
body smashed down upon the four of us locked together. We were driven
violently apart and rolled over and over, and in the suddenness of
surprise we released our holds on one another. At the moment of the
shock, Big-Face screamed terribly. I did not know what had happened,
though I smelled tiger and caught a glimpse of striped fur as I sprang
for a tree.

It was old Saber-Tooth. Aroused in his lair by the noise we had made, he
had crept upon us unnoticed. The Swift One gained the next tree to mine,
and I immediately joined her. I put my arms around her and held her
close to me while she whimpered and cried softly. From the ground came
a snarling, and crunching of bones. It was Saber-Tooth making his supper
off of what had been Big-Face. From beyond, with inflamed rims and eyes,
Red-Eye peered down. Here was a monster mightier than he. The Swift One
and I turned and went away quietly through the trees toward the cave,
while the Folk gathered overhead and showered down abuse and twigs and
branches upon their ancient enemy. He lashed his tail and snarled, but
went on eating.

And in such fashion were we saved. It was a mere accident--the sheerest
accident. Else would I have died, there in Red-Eye's clutch, and there
would have been no bridging of time to the tune of a thousand centuries
down to a progeny that reads newspapers and rides on electric cars--ay,
and that writes narratives of bygone happenings even as this is written.

CHAPTER XVII

It was in the early fall of the following year that it happened. After
his failure to get the Swift One, Red-Eye had taken another wife; and,
strange to relate, she was still alive. Stranger still, they had a baby
several months old--Red-Eye's first child. His previous wives had never
lived long enough to bear him children. The year had gone well for all
of us. The weather had been exceptionally mild and food plentiful. I
remember especially the turnips of that year. The nut crop was also very
heavy, and the wild plums were larger and sweeter than usual.

In short, it was a golden year. And then it happened. It was in the
early morning, and we were surprised in our caves. In the chill gray
light we awoke from sleep, most of us, to encounter de