Part 8 (1/2)

And then he saw Saya. He caught a flash of pink skin vanis.h.i.+ng behind a squat toadstool, and he ran forward calling her name. She emerged, and saw the figure with the horrible bulk of the spider on its back. She cried out in horror, and Burl understood. He let his burden fall, running swiftly to her.

They met. Saya waited timidly until she saw who this man was, and then she was astounded indeed. With golden plumes rising from his head, a velvet cloak about his shoulders, blue moth-fur about his middle, and a spear in his hand--and a dead spider behind him!--this was not the Burl she had known.

He took her hands, babbling proudly. She stared at him and at his victim--but the language of men had diminished sadly--struggling to comprehend. Presently her eyes glowed. She pulled at his wrists.

When they found the other tribesmen, they were carrying the dead spider between them, Saya looking more proud than Burl.

_5. MEAT OF MAN'S KILLING!_

In their climb up from savagery, the princ.i.p.al handicap from which men have always suffered is the fact that they are human. Or it can be said that human beings always have to struggle against the obstacle which is simply that they are men. To Burl his splendid return to the tribe called for a suitable reaction. He expected them to take note that he was remarkable, unparalleled, and in all ways admirable. He expected them to look at him with awe. He rather hoped that the sight of him would involve something like ecstasy.

And as a matter of fact, it did. For fully an hour they gathered around him while he used his--and their--scanty vocabulary to tell them of his unique achievements and adventures during the past two days and nights.

They listened attentively and with appropriate admiration and vicarious pride.

This in itself was a step upward. Mostly their talk was of where food might be found and where danger lurked. Strictly practical data connected with the pressing business of getting enough to eat and staying alive. The sheer pressure of existence was so great that the humans Burl knew had altogether abandoned such luxuries as boastful narrative. They had given up tradition. They did not think of art in even its most primitive forms, and the only craft they knew was the craftiness which promoted simple survival. So for them to listen to a narrative which did not mean either food or even a lessening of danger to themselves was a step upward on the cultural scale.

But they were savages. They inspected the dead spider, shuddering. It was pure horror. They did not touch it--the adults not at all, and even Dik and Tet not for a very long time. n.o.body thought of spiders as food.

Too many of them had been spiders' food.

But presently even the horror aroused by the spider palled. The younger children quailed at sight of it, of course; but the adults came to ignore it. Only the two gangling boys tried to break off a furry leg with which to charge and terrify the younger ones still further. They failed to get it loose because they did not think of cutting it. But they had nothing to cut it with anyhow.

Old Jon went wheezing off, foraging. He waved a hand to Burl as he went.

Burl was indignant. But it was true that he had brought back no food.

And people must eat.

Tama went off, her tongue clacking, with Lona the half-grown girl to help her find and bring back something edible. Dor, the strongest man in the tribe, went away to look where he thought there might be edible mushrooms full-grown again. Cori left with her children--very carefully on watch for danger to them--to see what she could find.

In little more than an hour Burl's audience had diminished to Saya.

Within two hours ants found the spider where it had been placed for the tribe to admire. Within three hours there was nothing left of it. During the fourth hour--as Burl struggled to dredge up some new, splendid item to tell Saya for the tenth time, or thereabouts--during the fourth hour one of the tribeswomen beckoned to Saya. She left with a flas.h.i.+ng backward smile for Burl. She went, actually, to help dig up underground fungi--much like truffles--discovered by the older woman. She undoubtedly expected to share them with Burl.

But in five hours it was night and Burl was very indignant with his tribesfolk. They had s.h.i.+fted the location of the hiding-place for the night, and n.o.body had thought to tell him. And if Saya wished to come for Burl, to lead him to that place, she did not dare for the simple reason that it was night.

For a long time after he found a hiding-place, Burl fumed bitterly to himself. He was very much of a human being, differing from his fellows--so far--mainly because he had been through experiences not shared by them. He had resolved a subjective dilemma of sorts by determining to return to his tribe. He had discovered a weapon which, at first, had promised--and secured--foodstuff, and later had saved him from a tarantula. His discovery that fish-oil was useful when applied to spider-snares and things sticking to the feet was of vast importance to the tribe. Most remarkable of all, he had deliberately killed a spider.

And he had experienced triumph. Temporarily he had even experienced admiration.

The adulation was a thing which could never be forgotten. Human appet.i.tes are formed by human experiences. One never had an appet.i.te for a thing one has not known in some fas.h.i.+on. But no human being who has known triumph is ever quite the same again, and anybody who has once been admired by his fellows is practically ruined for life--at least so far as being independent of admiration is concerned.

So during the dark hours, while the slow rain dipped in separate, heavy drops from the sky, Burl first coddled his anger--which was a very good thing for a member of a race grown timorous and furtive--and then began to make indignant plans to force his tribesmen to yield him more of the delectable sensations he alone had begun to know.

He was not especially comfortable during the night. The hiding-place he had chosen was not water-tight. Water trickled over him for several hours before he discovered that his cloak, though it would not keep him dry--which it would have done if properly disposed--would still keep the same water next to his skin where his body could warm it. Then he slept.

When morning came he felt singularly refreshed. For a savage, he was unusually clean, too.

He woke before dawn with vainglorious schemes in his head. The sky grew gray and then almost white. The overhanging cloud bank seemed almost to touch the earth, but gradually withdrew. The mist among the mushroom-forests grew thinner, and the slow rain ceased reluctantly.

When he peered from his hiding-place, the mad world he knew was, as far as he could see, quite mad, as usual. The last of the night-insects had vanished. The day-creatures began to venture out.

Not too far from the crevice where he'd hidden was an ant-hill, monstrous by standards on other planets. It was piled up not of sand but gravel and small boulders. Burl saw a stirring. At a certain spot the smooth, outer surface crumbled and fell into an invisible opening. A spot of darkness appeared. Two slender, thread-like antennae popped out.