There were other animals besides Monkey and the birds and the little
animals he was able to catch and kill. They walked silently among the trees and
some of them had big, sharp teeth. Sometimes, they came out of the trees and
they would chase him because they wanted to eat him. He remembered some of their
faces from pictures he'd seen and he knew they would kill him if they caught
him. Once, they came very close. He heard a crash in the trees and all of
sudden, one of them was coming right towards him, with big yellow eyes and wide,
snapping jaws, full of awful teeth. It was growling, coming closer and closer,
ready to take him for its prey. He knew he had to run, but he was afraid and his
legs seemed soft and they wouldn't do what he told them. He picked up the
sharpstone and threw it as hard as he could at the animal, hitting it above one
big yellow eye. Then at last he was running and he ran and ran until he was far
away and he couldn't see the animal anymore.
When he stopped, he didn't know the trees or the rocks around him. He was
far, far away and he didn't know how to get back. His home, his real home, was
long gone, but he had come to love his new one. He had spent a long time making
it better, with animal skins to keep him warm and soft dry dirt to sleep on in
the little cave where he sheltered from the rain. He had never strayed far
because he was afraid of the other animals and he didn't want to be lost again.
He dropped down on the hard, cold ground and began to cry. He hadn't cried for a
long time, but he was so tired and lost that he couldn't stop himself. He didn't
know if Monkey would ever find him or if he would ever find his way back. With a
sad, heavy heart, he got up and he began to walk. He wished he knew some bad
words so that he could curse the other animal that had caused his sadness, but
he couldn't remember any.
For many days, he walked, following the changing trees and the sounds of
the animals. Sometimes, he thought he heard the other animal again, but he never
saw it. He tried hard to keep from giving in to the terrible aching in his
heart, but it would rise and make him want to lie down, and let the other animal
come and eat him whole. He had to live on the berries he could find among the
roots of the trees because he didn't have the sharpstone anymore and it was like
a terrible game. He couldn't remember which ones would make him sick and he grew
frightened every time he needed to eat. Days and days and days, he walked, until
he thought he would die from his despair. When he stopped to rest, he thought
maybe he would be lost forever. It was a long time, but finally, finally, he
began to recognise the trees. When he began to see some of the trails he had
left and the places where Monkey used to sit and watch him, he thought his heart
would burst. He began to cry again, but they were happy tears and he felt glad
for the first time in as long as he could remember. Then he could see his little
cave and his animal skins and he was home.
