Many months passed by and in the Valley of Caves all was going well
again. The flood was almost forgotten. Nuts and berries were plenty in
the woods and the hunters always came home laden. No one thought very
much about the time when they had been so hungry and cold and wretched.
That is, not many people did. But Stitcher could never forget the days
after the great flood when she had wandered about in the hills with
little Antelope in her arms, not knowing which way to go, hungry and
weary and in danger. She always shuddered when she thought of it, and
called her little girl up close to her.
She remembered other times, too, when nuts and berries were few and
game was scarce. She thought there ought to be some way to get ready
for such times so the cave people would not need to suffer so much. So
one day when the men brought in great quantities of meat she cut some
in strips and hid it in the top of the cave.
“I will keep this till the rest of the meat is gone,” said Stitcher.
But she told no one what she had done.
It was a long time before Stitcher thought of the meat again. Then she
only remembered it because she happened to think of that terrible time
when she had been so hungry. She reached up in the top of the cave and
brought down the strips, and behold! the meat was deliciously smoked
and dried by the heat of the fire.
“It is good,” she said, and gave some to One Eye to taste.
“Yes, it is good,” he said, reaching for more.
“After this we will not need to go hungry any more,” said Stitcher,
“for when the hunting is good we will save meat.”
“How wise and thoughtful you are,” said One Eye.
There was something else that Stitcher did not think of for a long
time. When she was so far from home, and little Antelope was crying for
food, she had found some strange stalks that had grains like tiny brown
berries in a sort of husk at their tip. She shook some of these berries
out and gave them to Antelope, and ate some herself. They tasted a
little like nut meats but were even better.
Stitcher had brought some of these grains home in her doe-skin pouch.
She carried them to eat on the way, but she did not eat them all up.
When she got back to the caves she threw the rest of the berries out on
the ground. A few days after that she noticed some particularly bright
grass growing where she had thrown the grains. But she did not think
that it might have grown from them.
The grains had fallen in a sheltered place where the new green blades
were not trampled down. In time the stalks became yellow and dry, and
at their tips were more husks filled with smooth brown grains. When
Stitcher saw them she cried out in delight.
“They are like the berries I scattered on the ground,” she exclaimed.
“I will scatter these again. I like to see them grow.”
So, instead of eating the brown kernels, Stitcher shook them all out of
the husks on the ground. This time she watched them, and was careful
to see that no one walked upon them. After a long time there were more
yellow stalks and more sweet, nutty grains.
“Here are a great many berries,” said Stitcher, as she shook them out
into a big wooden bowl. “We will eat some of them. But most of them I
will scatter again. By and by there will be enough so we can all have
some of them to eat.”
After that Stitcher had some grain growing near her cave all the time.
Many heard of this wonderful new food and came long distances to get
some of the kernels. And soon most of the cave people were raising
little patches of wheat in the open spaces about their caves.
“We will never be hungry again,” said Stitcher.
Years after that Stitcher lost all her teeth and could not eat the hard
grains. So she put some of them into a hollowed stone and pounded them
with another stone till they were soft. In this way the cave people
came at last to grind grain for bread. But it was many, many years
before they learned how to do that. For a long time they ate it just as
it came from the husk.