realized that he was beginning to learn, in a way he would never forget, the first law of primitive life: you had to eat, and getting and preparing food took a lot more time than it did when all you had to do was to stroll into a restaurant and order a meal. It almost seemed to him that since he had stepped out of the space-time machine—and he had come out in the first place in search of food—it had taken every single minute of his time just to stay alive. If you weren’t hunting something, then something was hunting you. Mark shuddered, remembering the horrible Neanderthals who might even now be lurking behind every bush, every rock, hidden in every twisted shadow . . .
He cooked and they ate the delicious salmon, and then passed a peaceful night in the lean-to. With the coming of the dawn, Tlaxcan was on his feet again and amazingly ready to go. Mark watched his companion with envy. He must have a constitution like an ox. Mark remembered his steel-hardness when he had supported him the day before. With a wound such as he had received, he should have been helpless for days, but here he was almost as good as new.
Side by side now, the two struck out for what was, to Mark, an unknown destination. He took careful note of their direction, so that he would not hopelessly lose the space-time machine. He and Tlaxcan were still moving almost due east, skirting the mountain foothills, and going directly away from the valley of the Neanderthals.
The warm, sun-drenched days passed, and with them the bitter-cold, mysterious nights. Mark and Tlax-can walked on across the great plain, detouring twice to get around great green lakes carved out of solid rock by the retreating glaciers. Mark could still see an occasional glitter far to the north, and he was convinced that it was indeed the last of the glacial ice, an isolated section, probably, since vegetation had already come back on the plain, and pines dotted the mountain foothills. He made up his mind to get a good look at the ice if he ever saw an opportunity. It would be a real thrill to be able to look down on the vast ice sheet that so recently had covered most of Europe, and which even in 1953 had not completely disappeared. Few people realized, in 1953, that they were not yet altogether out of the Ice Age. Enormous sheets of ice, thousands of feet thick, the remnants of those which had licked out across the world, still crushed the earth of Greenland and Antarctica in modern times. The ice was not gone, and it was a safe bet that it would come again, as it had come before, reaching back into the lands where it had been foolishly forgotten.
Mark did not waste this precious interlude of time, but rather employed it to learn Tlaxcan’s language as best he could. It was out of the question, as well as impractical, to try to teach Tlaxcan English—not because Tlaxcan was stupid, but because English was an impossibly difficult tongue to learn in a hurry, as well as being quite useless in 50,000 B .c. Tlaxcan s language was simpler, although by no means easy. There were not many words, but each one had a different meaning according to the way in which it was said. Mark was handicapped by not having any books to learn from, nor any organized rules to help him, but he made slow progress and began to make himself understood in simple sentences. For one thing, he learned what Tlaxcan had been doing out on the plain when he had been attracted by the strange sound of Mark’s shots. Tlaxcan had been scouting for the quaro herds, on which his people placed their primary dependence, when they could get them. Tlaxcan said that he had failed to find the quaro herds, so they couldn’t have been bison, reindeer, or horses, all of which they had seen in profusion. From his description, Mark got an impression of a mighty elephant of some kind, and, putting two and two together, Mark thought he knew what Tlaxcan had been after. Mammoths!
As they went on, Mark at last had some time to think.
He cooked and they ate the delicious salmon, and then passed a peaceful night in the lean-to. With the coming of the dawn, Tlaxcan was on his feet again and amazingly ready to go. Mark watched his companion with envy. He must have a constitution like an ox. Mark remembered his steel-hardness when he had supported him the day before. With a wound such as he had received, he should have been helpless for days, but here he was almost as good as new.
Side by side now, the two struck out for what was, to Mark, an unknown destination. He took careful note of their direction, so that he would not hopelessly lose the space-time machine. He and Tlaxcan were still moving almost due east, skirting the mountain foothills, and going directly away from the valley of the Neanderthals.
The warm, sun-drenched days passed, and with them the bitter-cold, mysterious nights. Mark and Tlax-can walked on across the great plain, detouring twice to get around great green lakes carved out of solid rock by the retreating glaciers. Mark could still see an occasional glitter far to the north, and he was convinced that it was indeed the last of the glacial ice, an isolated section, probably, since vegetation had already come back on the plain, and pines dotted the mountain foothills. He made up his mind to get a good look at the ice if he ever saw an opportunity. It would be a real thrill to be able to look down on the vast ice sheet that so recently had covered most of Europe, and which even in 1953 had not completely disappeared. Few people realized, in 1953, that they were not yet altogether out of the Ice Age. Enormous sheets of ice, thousands of feet thick, the remnants of those which had licked out across the world, still crushed the earth of Greenland and Antarctica in modern times. The ice was not gone, and it was a safe bet that it would come again, as it had come before, reaching back into the lands where it had been foolishly forgotten.
Mark did not waste this precious interlude of time, but rather employed it to learn Tlaxcan’s language as best he could. It was out of the question, as well as impractical, to try to teach Tlaxcan English—not because Tlaxcan was stupid, but because English was an impossibly difficult tongue to learn in a hurry, as well as being quite useless in 50,000 B .c. Tlaxcan s language was simpler, although by no means easy. There were not many words, but each one had a different meaning according to the way in which it was said. Mark was handicapped by not having any books to learn from, nor any organized rules to help him, but he made slow progress and began to make himself understood in simple sentences. For one thing, he learned what Tlaxcan had been doing out on the plain when he had been attracted by the strange sound of Mark’s shots. Tlaxcan had been scouting for the quaro herds, on which his people placed their primary dependence, when they could get them. Tlaxcan said that he had failed to find the quaro herds, so they couldn’t have been bison, reindeer, or horses, all of which they had seen in profusion. From his description, Mark got an impression of a mighty elephant of some kind, and, putting two and two together, Mark thought he knew what Tlaxcan had been after. Mammoths!
As they went on, Mark at last had some time to think.
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