_So few of them survived, the hunter reflected. So few lasted long
enough to be found. And of those who did, few were able to adapt to the
rigors of the new life._
_But the survivors were strong. The tribe was growing stronger all the
time, larger and stronger and more skilled. While those in the cities
were growing weaker._
_Time, he thought, is on our side._
_For a moment longer he gazed thoughtfully down at the two prone,
wasted figures. The branches of a gnarled, twisted tree reached almost
over their shelter. Absently, the hunter probed with his hand into one
of the low-hanging branches to pluck one of the round fruits concealed
among the waxen leaves. With strong white teeth he bit through the
outer skin and sucked up the delicious juice. He scraped out all of
the nourishing pulp with his teeth. When he had finished he tore the
rubbery skin into strips and placed these in a pouch at his waist,
except for one piece which he kept in his mouth to chew on._
_Using a blanket, he repeated his earlier smoke signals, alternately
smothering and exposing the fire he had raised on the coals of the old
one. He worked patiently, whistling softly through his teeth._
_The woman must have been very pretty, he mused._
_The curling puffs of smoke climbed into the bright morning sky and
scattered slowly before the wind. After several minutes the hunter
desisted._
_From a leather gourd he poured water into a crude, hand-shaped cup.
He knelt beside the two strangers and, for the second time since his
arrival, forced a little water between their cracked lips. The man
was breathing well now, he noted. The woman had been much weaker, her
heartbeat almost imperceptible. But with care she would live._
_They had come a long way, he thought. The man, stronger, could have
continued. That was important. Love and loyalty were always important.
These two would be valuable additions to the tribe. And from them would
come another generation, born to freedom, stronger and more adaptable
than their parents. It was a pleasure to watch the children cope with
the new world so easily, so naturally...._
_While the hunter was still engaged in caring for his two sick charges,
the drone of an aircraft wove a thin thread of sound across the bright
blue sky. Reaching the drifting smoke signals, the aircraft swung in
slow circles, each one lower. It was a crude craft, lightweight and
spindly looking, but very maneuverable._
_The hunter glanced up. Banking low above him, the aircraft seemed to
balance on one wingtip. From the windowed cabin the pilot waved. The
hunter, smiling, returned the salute._
_As the plane veered off toward the flat plain below, where it
would be safe to land, the hunter rose. He began to search the area
for materials from which to fashion a stretcher. It would take, he
reckoned, a half hour for the pilot to reach him, another hour to
transport the two strangers down to the aircraft. He set to work._
_The man on the ground stirred and opened his eyes._
* * * * *