in a cave close to the river a very old woman lived by herself. she did not do any work. the cave people brought her everything she needed to eat, and when she wanted a new garment stitcher made it for her. she had something more important to do than to gather food or sew skins. she had to take care of the great fire.

sometimes the fire in the other caves went out. then flame, for that was the old woman’s name, had to light a torch at the fire in her cave and give it to the person who needed it. so of course the great fire must never go out for if it did no one knew how to get any more.

no one knew where flame got the fire in her cave. her mother was keeper of the great fire for the clan as far back as the oldest men could remember. she taught flame how to talk to the fire-god and persuade him to give her the fire, but flame had never told anyone else. she liked to be the fire-keeper herself.

bolo and fisher often went to flame’s cave. they liked to watch the great blaze always burning on the big flat rock just inside the entrance to her cave. they brought her dry wood for it, and sometimes she would let them roast nuts or broil slices of meat or fish over the smaller fire where she cooked her own food. she would never allow them to go very near the great fire on the big hearth, and she never used that one to cook her food.

[14]

bolo and fisher often played in flame’s cave. there was a small hole away at the back of it where they could crawl out into the sunlight. flame did not like this hole. she was afraid some wild animal might come through it. so she told the boys always to roll a great rock against it when they were through playing. this was the first door any of the clan had ever had.

when it rained the cave people stayed at home. they were warm and dry in the big caves. they always kept great piles of dry wood stored away so that the fires rarely went out. the little children played about in the firelight. the women, with stitcher to teach them, pounded the skins soft or sewed them into garments. the men busied themselves making new points for their spears and harpoons. but one eye always made arrow heads instead, and since bolo killed the cave bear many of the men came to his cave to be taught how to make them, too. many were beginning to think arrows much better than their old weapons, but some of the old men still declared they were of no use.

once it began to rain, and for many days the clouds never broke and rain fell constantly. the season was warm and the boys had a great deal of fun running about in the wet. they always left their skin coats in the caves when they did that, for if the skins got very wet it made them stiff and hard.

at first this was sport, but as the days went on and the torrents still poured down the cave people began to get uneasy. their stock of wood was running low, too, and the weather was turning colder.

[15]

“how high the river is running,” said fisher one day. “and see how many branches, and even great trees, are floating down on it.”

“it is almost up to the hole in the back of flame’s cave,” said bolo.

“we had better go and tell her,” said fisher. so away they went to flame’s cave.

“the water never comes into my cave,” said flame.

“but it is coming now,” cried bolo in alarm. and sure enough, a little trickle of muddy water was running across the floor.

flame looked at the tiny stream anxiously.

“we must roll the great rock closer,” she said.

bolo and fisher ran to put the big rock in place. then they tried to daub mud about the edges to keep the water out. but it did no good. the stream was constantly growing larger, and flame grew frightened.

“the water will put out the great fire,” she said. “ah, see! it is coming in at the front of the cave, too.”

“it will drown us,” cried fisher and bolo in great fear. “let us run away from it.”

as they hastened out of the cave they saw people hurrying here and there in great confusion. bolo saw his mother with little antelope on her arm. she was running toward the trees. he saw one eye, too, and wondered what he had in the great skin bag he was carrying.

everyone was screaming and calling, and everywhere he looked he saw the muddy river. it had broken over its banks and was flooding all the land. how fast it came!

higher and higher it grew, with a great rush like the[16] breaking of a big wave on the ocean; and before bolo and fisher could get to the trees it was nearly to their knees.

the boys never forgot that terrible time. for many long hours the rain fell in gusty sheets, and below them, as they sat huddled close together on a big limb, they could see nothing but brown, rushing water. they called sometimes, and at first one or another of the cave people would answer. once bolo heard his mother’s voice. but after a while there were no more answers.

then it began to grow very cold. the boys could not keep warm even by sitting very close together. in the clouded light they could see groups of cave people on the hills about the valley. as they looked at one group, to their horror, they saw a great pack of wolves fighting through the water to reach the same high place. from another hilltop they could hear the snarling of frightened and savage hyenas.

“it is better in the trees,” said bolo.

“i wonder where flame has gone,” said fisher.

it seemed to bolo as if they must die before the rain ceased and the flood went down. their hands grew so stiff that they could hardly hold to the limbs. dark came, and daylight, and dark again, they could not tell how many times, and still the water raged below them. once in the night they felt something strike the tree, and in the morning the body of a great wildcat hung limply across the end of the limb.

“i am glad he was dead before he found our tree,” said bolo with a shudder.

when the rain stopped at last and the water began to[17] go down the boys could hardly move. they tried to call, but their lips were stiff and would not make much sound. now and then, as the water whirled past, the ghastly face of a drowned cave man would glimmer for a moment below them, only to be swallowed up at once by the grim, brown water.

the water went down as fast as it had risen. as soon as it was safe the boys slid stiffly to the ground and limped back to the caves. they were hungry and cold and miserable, and they thought how good the fire would feel. but though they searched long and carefully through the sodden ashes they could not find so much as a single spark.

by and by more of the cave people began to come back home, one by one. frantically they searched through the desolate caves for a glimmer of fire, but none could be found. they were in despair. how could they live without fire? there would be no way to cook their food or to warm themselves when it grew cold. and, worst of all, there would now be no way to keep the wild beasts out of the caves, and all of the people would have to go back to the trees to live, as did their fore-parents so long, long ago. they were very wretched, and could do nothing but huddle together in groups, trying to realize all that the loss of their fires would mean to them.

but where was flame? perhaps if they could find her she could help them. they thought she knew where the fire-god lived and could get him to send them fire.

“let us see if we can find flame,” said bolo.

so he and fisher started out to look for her.