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Updated: June 14, 2025
Realizing that it was he who had saved the tribe, they began over him that great keening lamentation hitherto reserved strictly for the funeral of the supreme Chief himself. But Bawr, his massive features furrowed with solicitude, stopped them, vowing that Grôm should not die. And lifting the hero in his arms he bore him into the cave.
The man was kneeling upon one knee, with the other leg trailed awkwardly behind him. It seemed an altogether difficult and disadvantageous position in which to do battle. "The fool!" said Bawr. "He doesn't know how to fight a leopard." "He's hurt. His leg is broken!" said Grôm.
He had never done such a thing to her, however, though all the other Cave Men, including Bawr himself, were wont to beat their women on occasion. In his heart he hated the idea of hurting her; and it would hardly be worth while to beat her without hurting her. The idea, therefore, was promptly dismissed.
Bawr had accepted the excuse, though somewhat perplexed by it, and had accommodatingly taken the extra wives himself a solution which had seemed to meet with the unqualified approval of A-ya. The first winter in the Valley of Fire had been a wonderful one to the tribe, thanks to the fierce but beneficent element ever shining, dancing and whispering in its mysterious tongue before the cave doors.
But I will pay you for her whatsoever is just, for you are the Chief. And now let Bawr show me my accusers, that I may have done with them quickly. For I have much to tell." "Not so, Grôm," said the Chief, stretching out his hand. "I am satisfied that you are a true man. And for the girl, that will we arrange between us later.
And there the monster hung, its body bent in a contorted bow. Bawr, meanwhile, seeing Grôm's peril, had dropped from his tree, snatched up his spear and club, and rushed in to the rescue. It was courage, this, of the finest, counting no odds; for down there on the level he would have stood no ghost of a chance had the beast turned back upon him.
She answered his look with one of mocking scorn, and then turned her attention to the Chief, who was sitting in grim silence, the customary hand of welcome ominously withheld. A haughty look came over Grôm's face, his broad shoulders squared themselves, and he met the Chief's eyes sternly. "I have done the bidding of Bawr the Chief," he said, in a clear voice, so that all the tribe might hear.
But many hearts stood still, for it looked as if that living flood could never be stayed. Presently from all along its front came a cloud of spears. But they fell short, not more than half a dozen reaching the edge of the plateau. In instant response came a deep-chested shout from Bawr, followed by a discharge of spears from behind the line of fire.
But most of them were lying where they had been built, or left by the preceding tide, along high-water mark, as hopelessly stranded, for the next two hours, as a birch log after a freshet. As the old women with children arrived, Bawr rushed them down the wet beach to the rafts which were afloat, appointing to each clumsy raft four men, with long, rough flattened poles, to manage it.
He governs the people, while I go away and think new things. And he is my friend. Look, I will teach him now this new thing. And we will make another just like it, that when we return to the Caves Bawr also shall know how to strike from very far off." With their rough-edged spear-heads of flint they set themselves to the skinning of the saber-tooth.
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