Time's Last Gift by Philip José Farmer

boomerangs on the ground and climbed up to the ledge. Their wooden-handled flint knives were still in their sheaths, however.
    Gribardsun introduced them as Klhmnhach and Rhtinkhlhk. They smiled nervously and spoke in a strange whispering speech.
    Von Billmann, hearing them, smiled so broadly that his face threatened to split. Gribardsun laughed and said, ‘Their language is a linguist’s delight, Robert. Very few vowels and most of the consonants are unvoiced. And nothing like anything ever recorded in Europe.’
    The Bear People did not like the strangers at all. Thammash protested loudly while he made threatening gestures at the two. They moved closer together, but their faces remained expressionless and their fingers were widespread.
    There was a brief interruption when Laminak, Dubhab’s pre-teenaged daughter, ran to Gribardsun and threw her arms around his waist and hugged him while she wept. The Englishman patted her head and murmured something about being happy to see her again. Then he gently pushed her away, and her mother took her hand and led her away while she scolded her.
    ‘You’ve made another conquest,’ Rachel said. Her smile was hard.
    Gribardsun did not reply. He addressed the entire tribe, telling them that he had made peace with the strangers, the Wotagrub, whose name for themselves was Krhshmhnhik. This meant The People. The tribesmen were unable to pronounce the word anywhere near correctly, nor would they make much of an effort. For them, the Krhshmhnhik remained the Wotagrub.
    Gribardsun did not say how he had talked the Wotagrub into making peace. Nor did he say anything about taking revenge for their having killed so many Wota’shaimg. From now on there would be peace. The Wotagrub would move even farther away. The borders of the two tribes would be such and such, and he defined them as exactly as he could, using landmarks both tribes knew well. If one tribesman ventured into the territory of the other tribe, he must refrain from hunting there.
    The Wota’shaimg did not like anything he said. They wanted an eye for an eye. In fact, two eyes for an eye. And they could not understand why such a powerful magician and warrior as Gribardsun did not exact vengeance.
    The Englishman explained that he could have wiped out the whole tribe easily. But he saw no reason to do so. That was that.
    He later told his colleagues that it would have done no good to have gone into ethics or morality. The Wota’shaimg would not have understood his modern philosophy. The best thing to do was to issue an edict as if he were a god. They could understand that. If they did not understand rationality, they understood power. The great magician and wicked warrior - to them, wicked was a compliment - required such and such or would punish them. So they would do as he said, even if they did not like it.
    Gribardsun ordered a feast, and the two strangers squatted with the elders of the tribe and the scientists and ate with them. After that, they relaxed. The Wota’shaimg were not likely to murder them if they ate with them. The sharing of food implied safety for those who shared. There was no spoken law to this effect. It was just understood.
    The time travelers examined the boomerangs of the strangers. These were carved with flint and consisted of a heavy close-grained wood which they could not identify as yet. The wood did not grow in this area. Gribardsun said he could speak only a few words - word-sentences, rather - of the strangers. But through sign language he had learned that their origin was far to the south, and that they had brought these boomerangs from their native territory. That was probably either in southern Iberia or possibly North Africa. The two would be connected with a land bridge, of course, since the Mediterranean Sea was much smaller and lower now. The Wotagrub had once had many boomerangs, but they had been in this country so long that they had lost most of them. And there was no wood