До Адама

           ThethreeFire-Men,whowerenowrunningforwardfromtheirforestambush,couldeasilyhavegothim,buttheydidnottry.Perhapshewastoooldandtough.ButtheydidwanttheHairlessOneandmysister,forasIlookedbackfromthetreesIcouldseetheFire-Menbeatingintheirheadswithrocks.OneoftheFire-Menwasthewizenedoldhunterwholimped.

           Wewentonthroughthetreestowardthecaves—anexcitedanddisorderlymobthatdrovebeforeittotheirholesallthesmalllifeoftheforest,andthatsettheblue-jaysscreamingimpudently.Nowthattherewasnoimmediatedanger,Long-Lipwaitedforhisgrand-father,Marrow-Bone;andwiththegapofagenerationbetweenthem,theoldfellowandtheyouthbroughtupourrear.

           AndsoitwasthatLop-Earbecameabacheloroncemore.ThatnightIsleptwithhimintheoldcave,andouroldlifeofchummingbeganagain.Thelossofhismateseemedtocausehimnogrief.Atleastheshowednosignsofit,norofneedforher.Itwasthewoundinhislegthatseemedtobotherhim,anditwasallofaweekbeforehegotbackagaintohisoldspryness.

           Marrow-Bonewastheonlyoldmemberinthehorde.Sometimes,onlookingbackuponhim,whenthevisionofhimismostclear,Inoteastrikingresemblancebetweenhimandthefatherofmyfather’sgardener.Thegardener’sfatherwasveryold,verywrinkledandwithered;andforalltheworld,whenhepeeredthroughhistiny,blearyeyesandmumbledwithhistoothlessgums,helookedandactedlikeoldMarrow-Bone.Thisresemblance,asachild,usedtofrightenme.