Cave Boy

CAVE BOY

Aarl sat in the cave mouth watching some of the tribe's children
boisterously playing a tag game on the flat ground below the rock face
that was his home. He knew better than to try to join in. He would
never attract a tag and, sooner or later, one of the older youths would
pick on him. Ever since his parents had been killed, he'd lived on the
edge of the group: the furthest from the fire, the last to eat,
tolerated, unconsidered. He could see Uma amongst them and his sad eyes
followed her small dark figure as she ran and skipped and shrieked with
laughter. He'd tried to be alone with her, but she had turned away with
a grimace.
Bored and hungry, he jumped down and armed himself with a stick and a
rock before making his way into the surrounding forest of ferns.
Glancing at the sky, he noted a few tendrils of grey cloud and smiled:
rain could be of great help in sneaking up on prey. Moving silently, he
soon spotted a small, brown, furry shape and crept downwind. The reeds
covering the lower part of his body helped him blend with the hot,
steamy undergrowth as he edged closer, pausing whenever the animal
raised its head. Soon, he was almost within striking distance and
settled down under a bushy fern, waiting for the noise and flutter of
rain to cover his strike.
The rain smashed down suddenly, beating almost painfully upon his head
and shoulders and pounding the ferns and trees into a roaring
crescendo. Aarl opened his mouth for a welcome drink, catching a
rivulet from a broad frond, delighted when a small caterpillar came
with it. Then he moved in for the kill.
The rock struck fair and square on the animal's head. Dazed, it tried
to stagger to its feet and Aarl swung his stick repeatedly, until it
fell, bloody and still upon the wet black earth. Using a small sharp
stone, he cut through the soft grey fur and gnawed at the animal's
haunch. He knew that all kills had to be taken back to the tribe, but
he also knew that if he did so, he would probably see nothing more of
it. Besides it was only small.?
He sat in the mud, burped and opened his mouth for another drink
before hiding the rest of the carcass in the branches of a small tree.
If he was lucky, it would still be there for an evening meal. The rain
stopped abruptly and the silent forest began to steam under the hot
sun. High above, a bird squawked hesitantly. Taking their cue, others
joined in and soon the forest was its normal, noisy self.
Aarl ambled in the general direction of the caves, pausing to pick and
nibble at edible roots. Ahead of him, a sabre-tooth was casting around
for traces of the scent it had picked up before the rain. Its sharp
ears caught the faint brush of body against leaves and it dropped into
a crouch on the spot, confident of its camouflage. Unsuspecting, Aarl
stopped to admire the huge pink and white flowers of a giant vine.
Beside it lay a thick mottled cane, slightly longer than himself. He
picked it up eagerly, fascinated by the markings. It would be much
prized. Perhaps if he gave it to Uma, she might be more friendly.
He strolled on, relaxed, senses automatically alert - though not
enough. The undergrowth erupted in a blur of fur and fangs. He screamed
and ducked instinctively. A huge and hot heavy weight fell from above,
slamming him to the ground. Pain raked his back and shoulders. He
sobbed and tried to struggle though aware, even through his panic, that
it was useless. The animal snarled and writhed, pressing him deeper
into the warm mire. Then the weight shifted, till only his legs were
trapped. He raised his head and twisted to look round.
The sabre-tooth was clawing futilely at the cane, which had passed
clean through its throat. Desperately, Aarl squirmed free and backed
away hurriedly, staring at the spectacle of the stricken beast.
Gradually, the animal's movements slowed and finally stopped. He
waited.
It remained still. Slowly, he moved towards it. Still no sign of life.
He went closer, and then closer still. Eventually he stood over it.
Bewildered, he touched the cane and the blood seeping from the wound.
Excitement surged, bounding and then releasing in a mighty whoop that
sent birds and animals fluttering away in all directions.
Feet pounded through the ferns. Three of his elders burst upon the
scene, halting abruptly at the sight of the sabre-tooth. They shouted
at Aarl to get away. Proudly, he planted a foot on the body and raised
his arms in triumph. As they gaped at him he told and demonstrated how,
when confronted, he'd attacked the sabre-tooth with his new weapon. The
elders gasped and babbled to one another. After a short while, they
approached, gingerly, to prod the dead animal and finger the cane,
still murmuring to each other. Then one of them ran to fetch the men of
the village.
That night, the tribe feasted: the old ones mostly eating raw, in the
old way, whilst the young ones generally preferring the meat burnt in
the fire. Aarl was given the pelt as a trophy of honour and was granted
a place amongst the men as befits a hunter.
Across the fire, he could see Uma staring at him. Perhaps the next
time he passed by her cave? He caught her eye and smiled. She smiled
back and didn't avert her gaze.
The next morning, Aarl accompanied some of the men in the new task of
cane gathering. Already, someone was experimenting with small thin
sharpened stones.
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