By this time the sun was shining brightly. The boys held out their
stiffened hands and thought how good and warm the sunshine felt.
“It is like the Great Fire,” said Fisher.
“Perhaps the Fire-god lives in the sun,” whispered Bolo, looking toward
it with an awed expression on his dark face.
As they came near Flame’s cave they saw that she was there, sure
enough. She was down on her knees in front of the entrance, making
strange motions with her hands. They thought she was looking for
something.
“Wait a minute.” Bolo caught Fisher by the arm and drew him back. “Let
us see what she is doing.”
Just then she slowly rose to her feet. She turned her face toward the
sun and stretched her lean arms up as far as she could. Her long gray
hair streamed out behind her and her eyes were very bright. She looked
as if she was seeing something a long way off. Her lips moved.
“She is talking to the sun,” said Fisher in a frightened whisper.
“Perhaps she is calling the Fire-god.”
The boys came cautiously nearer. They were not afraid of Flame, but
they were not sure what might happen next. And they were very curious
to hear what she was saying. By and by Flame turned and saw the boys.
She beckoned them to come nearer.
“The Water-god is great,” she said in a solemn voice, “but greater is
the Fire-god. He has spoken to me from his dwelling place, the sun. He
has promised that we shall have the Great Fire again. But,” she added
slowly, “I am old and my strength has grown small. I must have help.
You must help me.”
How proud the boys were! Gladly they ran at her bidding to bring the
driest sticks they could find. It was hard to discover many, for the
long rain had soaked everything through and through. But they climbed
into the trees and broke off dead limbs that had become partially dried
out again, and they broke open rotten logs to get the dry, crumbly wood
that lay at their hearts. It was not very long until they had brought
together a nice supply of dry sticks and light, tindery wood.
Flame was on her knees again when they came back, and now they could
see what she was doing. She had a long, pointed, hardwood stick in her
hands and was twirling it very fast in a little hollow in a flat block
of soft, dry wood. While she worked she mumbled to herself, now and
then looking up at the sun and speaking as if to the god that she said
lived in it. The boys stood very still and watched her.
Flame worked a long time. Then she threw down the pointed stick and
wrung her hands.
“I am too old,” she wailed. “No more are my hands strong to bring the
Fire-god to help my people. Oh, woe is me! woe is me!”
Bolo came up timidly and touched her shoulder. He held out both hands,
opening and shutting his wiry brown fingers.
“My hands are very strong,” he said. “Let them be as your hands and
twirl the stick while you speak to the Fire-god.”
Then Fisher spoke up eagerly. “Do you not remember the game we play
with the stick and the strap? Do you remember how very fast we can make
it go? Let us both twirl the stick with the strap while Flame speaks to
the Fire-god.”
So Fisher brought a flat, strong strap made of reindeer hide and
wrapped it around the stick. Then he and Bolo took hold of the ends and
drew them back and forth.
How fast the pointed stick did go! Flame showed them how to hold it in
the hollowed block, then she rose and once more faced the sun, her arms
held toward it and her lips mumbling a prayer to the Fire-god.
Faster and faster whirled the stick, and louder and louder prayed
Flame. Pretty soon she began stamping her feet and waving her hands.
She moved around the boys in a circle, her face always toward the sun.
For a long time nothing happened. Then at last Bolo saw a tiny thread
of smoke rising from the hollow.
“The fire is coming,” he shouted. “Pray! pray!”
In another moment a very, very small spark glowed through the smoke.
The eager boys sprinkled crumbs of dry tinder upon it and soon they had
a small blaze. A few dry sticks made it leap up brightly, and then how
Flame shouted and sang and flung her arms up toward the sun.
“I have heard the will of the Fire-god,” she said after a time. “I am
old, and he has taken this way to show me that I must teach someone
else to call him. I might have died in the water, and then who could
have helped the cave people? They must all have died, too. And it
is better that two should know than one, for then the secret of the
Great Fire will not be so easily lost. You are faithful; you will
be faithful. I will teach you. But first you must carry fire to the
people.”
Bolo and Fisher each took a lighted torch and started back to where the
discouraged cave people were huddled together. How everyone shouted for
joy when they saw the fire coming. They knew that again they were safe
in their homes in the Valley of Caves.
It was not many days until most of the people who were left were back
at home again. Some had been swept away by the water, some had wandered
away when they found there was no fire, and some had died from cold and
hunger. All felt very sad when they saw how the water had laid waste
their pretty valley.
They had lost all their weapons, too, and old Quickfinger, who had made
most of the spears and harpoons for the Clan, was nowhere to be found.
They thought he must have died, for they knew he would never have left
them.
Then One Eye showed them what he had carried away in the great skin
bag. He had gathered up all the arrows he could find, many spear and
harpoon heads, and the flint flakers that Quickfinger and himself had
used in making them.
“I can make better arrows than Quickfinger,” he said. “Arrows are
better than spears or harpoons. I have taught Bolo, and he will help me
make them. I will teach you, too. The women must make the bowstrings.
Soon we will have plenty of weapons.”
“One Eye is wise and prudent,” cried the cave men joyfully. “We will do
whatever he says. He will take care of us.”
But they did not know that Flame had taught Bolo and Fisher a greater
lesson than how to make arrows. She made the boys promise to keep
secret what she taught them. She did not believe it was right for all
the Clan to know how to make fire. She thought the Fire-god would be
angry if she told them.
Years after, when Flame was dead, Bolo and Fisher thought the rest of
the people ought to know, too. They did not believe the Fire-god would
be angry if they taught them all. So one day, when they were both old
men, they gathered the Clan together--but that is another story.