Quest of The Dawn Man

by J. H. Rosny

  They resolved, however, not to leave it until they should have discovered another.

  The son of Urus said, “Aoun and Zouhr will not go out until the Kzamms tiger is asleep in its lair.”

  "The lion of the rocks is too heavy to climb trees,” Zouhr added, "There are branches everywhere in which we can hide ourselves."

  They were not afraid of being surprised while they were hunting. Aoun’s sense of smell was as keen as that of the jackals, and Zouhr’s cunning was ever on the alert.

  For several days their life remained tranquil. Zouhr, guided by the instinct of his race, brought in provisions of mushrooms and roots; Aoun provided meat and collected wood for the fire. They lit it on the ledge and in the evening it glowed with a red light, surprising alike the prowlers on the plain, and the vampires, owls and eagles of the chain of rocks.

  There was abundance of food: the men ate joyfully, safe from the beasts who watched them from below, and not deigning to notice the rapacious birds that hovered over their heads. Zouhr went down several times each day to spy out the den. The wild beast no longer displayed anger, or even impatience. The smell of the young warrior had become familiar to it and did not even disturb its sleep. If it was not sleeping it would sometimes stand up against the crevice and its fiery eyes would vaguely scan the height and face of the human being.

  After some time the son of Earth said to him, “Aoun and Zouhr are not enemies of the rock lion.”

  The brute, surprised by the sound of an articulate voice growled and tore at the rock with its claws.

  "The lion of the rocks is stronger than Zouhr,” continued the warrior . . but Zouhr is cunning ... If the lion of the rocks, the son of Earth and the son of Urus made an alliance, no prey could escape them.”

  He spoke in this way without any real hope, and only because of old memories which stirred in him. Often the Men-without-Shoulders had lived side by side with the wild beasts, taking part in their hunting, and Naoh, son of the Leopard, of the Oulhamr tribe, had made an alliance with the mammoths. Descended from a race which had been declining for generations, Zouhr often lost himself in dreams. He had many more recollections than his companions, and these recollections, fired by his youth, took on strange shapes on days when he was safe from peril and want.

  It was the first time that he had found himself in the constant vicinity of a dangerous animal. On the steppes and in the forest animals were inaccessible or menacing. Besides, when Zouhr thought of imitating Naoh or any of his ancestors, Aoun and his other companions came and dissipated his dream. Naoh himself had not continued the experiment of living with the mammoths. When he became chief of the horde he forgot his journey with Nam and Gaw, and only thought of leading the Oulhamrs to lands favourable for them. The Horde was too numerous and too keen on the chase to give the animals confidence; they kept their distance and could only be approached by cunning or taken in ambushes.

  Here Zouhr could have touched the lion’s nose by merely reaching his outstretched arm down the fissure. Although he would perhaps have preferred a less formidable wild beast, his imagination was working slowly. Moreover the habit which links beings together was growing. Everything that repeats itself harmlessly ceases to seem terrible. That large chest, that head like a block of basalt, those fiery eyes, no longer made Zouhr tremble. His subtle, youthful senses became aware that he himself had grown familiar to the carnivore. He was no longer considered as possible prey; he would no doubt cease completely to be regarded as such when his smell became gradually more intermixed with the odours of the den.

  Summer was approaching. Scorching heat had settled down upon the earth. It burnt up the waterless steppes, it intensified the terrible energy of vegetation in the forest, jungles and savannahs, and the monstrous green life that enveloped the banks of the river. The teeming animal life became intolerable. Worms, spiders, insects, crustaceans, swarmed on all the folds of the leaves, the stalks and the flowers; the viscous flesh of the worms, reptiles and molluscs, frogs and toads accumulated in the bays; herds of herb-cropping animals came up from the arid plains, and despite the presence of the great feline, the tiger and the lion hunted in proximity to the chain of rocks. Aoun and Zouhr only went out in the early morning, and never dallied till the evening twilight. They knew that a black lion with two lionesses occupied the northern jungle, and from the top of their post of observation they saw that a tiger and tigress had invaded the confluence of the great river and the stream. It would be necessary to walk the third part of a summer’s day to reach their lair and rather less to arrive at the jungle. Sometimes, as night fell, the sound of the lion’s roars came nearer, or the strident voice of the tiger; the great feline of the cavern would then give vent to his thunderous voice.

  At times Aoun and Zouhr thought of leaving their refuge. But when morning dawned they forgot that hungry clamour, prey became ever more and more abundant, rendering their hunting invariably successful; and the nocturnal carnivores slept before the dawn broke, drunk with meat and blood.

  Zouhr said, “Further on there are more tigers, lions and other tawny beasts. Would Aoun and Zouhr find such a good cave elsewhere?”

  The son of Urus did not reply. His soul was more nomadic than Zouhr’s: he was curious about new countries. This desire was only occasionally a dearly conscious one, it appeared and disappeared like an appetite. Some mornings he would go alone to the confluence of the river, and observe the rocks where the lions slept. A sudden desire to fight would possess him, or a great longing would fill him to know what savannahs and hunting grounds and animals were hidden from his view in the distance. Sometimes he would follow the upward course of the river, putting two or three thousand ells between him and the lions. Again he would manage to cross the river, partly by swimming and partly by jumping from one erratic block to another. Then his chest would swell with the lust of travel, and he would gaze longingly at the blue depths .of a forest barring the horizon. On his return a deep feeling of unrest would make his flesh creep.

  During these absences, Zouhr would dry slices of meat in the sun, or else lay in a fresh store of roots. He was desirous to keep a good reserve of provisions, so that they might be masters of their movements and hours of repose. At intervals he would go down to the fissure, and if he found the feline awake, he accustomed it to the sound of the human voice.

  One afternoon, when the shadows of the rocks had passed to the other bank of the river, he was surprised because Aoun did not return; and as he was tired of inaction, he climbed down with the help of leathern thongs, which enabled him to reach places otherwise inaccessible to all but birds and vampires.

  First he went towards the confluence, but a long string of buffaloes barred his way. Zouhr knew that their tempers were uncertain, and that at the least alarm the males became dangerous. He made a great circuit towards the west, and was about to turn southwards when a rhinoceros appeared among the high grasses. The son of Earth tried to efface himself under the vaults of a banyan tree: the heavy beast followed him. Then he climbed up a hillock, turned along the edge of a pool, lost his way in the brushwood, and found himself once more in sight of the chain of rocks, but on the side which was inhabited by the giant feline.

  The rhinoceros had disappeared. Zouhr studied this place, where neither of the companions had ever ventured before. The chain of rocks was more rugged and had deeper hollows than near the river. Two falcons rose in spirals, with hardly a stroke of their wings, towards a froth-like cloud. Despite the approach of sunset the light beat fiercely down upon the rocky desolation and the luxuriant verdure. Lying flat on his face in the shade, the Wah tried to discover the great beast’s lair. He thought it must be down there among the great black hollows, where the shadows were indistinguishable from masses of rock. To the left, the pool was hidden behind a jungle of rushes; to the right there was a series of ravines, with archipelagoes of hillocks, and towards the chain of rocks there were lines of basalt, forming low ridges, ruinous walls and prisms. . . . Doubtless the brut
e was sleeping until the hour when carnivorous voices were wont to make themselves heard.

  Suddenly Zouhr’s hair stood on end. A thick-set lion had suddenly appeared on the top of one of the hillocks below him. It was not a yellow lion like those which had attacked the creeper hut, but it was a huge black lion of a kind that was unknown to him. The grass was short under the tree which gave Zouhr shade: the animal caught sight of the man. . . .

  Zouhr remained lying on the ground paralyzed. He did not possess Aoun’s strength or impetuosity. He could not drive his lance so deeply into a hard chest, and his club would not break the animal’s vertebrae or crush its limbs. He must take to flight; the tree was too low to give him safety. Below him he saw a crenellated wall which led by a sharp turn to the chain of rocks and was inaccessible to the carnivore.

  He started off and bounded down the nearest passage, between the lines of basalt, while the lion descended the hillock with a roar. When Zouhr had reached the passage the brute could no longer see him. Without slackening his speed he took note of the crevices and fissures with great care. . . . He had gone more than a thousand ells before he turned round: his trail was deserted; the lion must have hesitated. Perhaps he was nonchalant like all of his kind and had given up the pursuit. Zouhr hoped he had done so, and went on towards the wall. A loud growl made him tremble all over, and with the comer of his eye he recognized the dark form of the brute. It came upon him with leaps and bounds, more fierce and determined than the tawny lions: Zouhr could hear its panting breath. ... It was too late for him to reach the chain of rocks. A few more bounds and Zouhr would feel his bones being crushed. . . .

  At this moment three projections attracted the fugitive’s attention. They stood out like broken branches, and would allow him, with the aid of a fourth projection, to reach the top of the passage.

  The ascent was only possible for an animal with hands or one of light weight. Zouhr jumped and reached the first projection, pulled himself up to the second and then to the third on bis hands and feet, and hauling himself on to the last found himself on the crest of the ridge. The lion followed. ... it made a tremendous leap, and fell back: the rock, which was almost vertical, offered no hold which could support its massive build. Three times it tried the escalade, then with a furious roar gave up the attempt. Its huge face was turned towards Zouhr, the yellow and the brown eyes stared fixedly at one another, full of fury and terror.

  The son of Earth asked himself whether he should remain on the crest or descend the other side of the ridge.

  There were two ways, one nearer the plain, the other close to the rocky chain, by which the lion could reach the man. ... So long as the lion remained motionless Zouhr hesitated. The moment he saw it begin to prowl, he decided upon flight, and descending the slope, he started in a northerly direction. He did not run at random, but examined the chain of rocks with the hope of discovering a refuge: his head was giddy and he seemed to see the cavern and the outline of the giant feline.

  The lion had again disappeared; perhaps, with the patience of the carnivora, it was lying in wait; perhaps it did not notice the way in. . . . Zouhr scarcely asked himself the question, the urgent need for a shelter absorbed all his sensations; he unconsciously drew nearer to the rocks. . . .

  He was fifty steps from his goal, when he realized that the pursuit had begun again. The black lion, retracing its steps, had caught sight of the man once more; its bounds made depressions in the long grasses; the rocks revealed no means of escape, and Zouhr now only followed the instinct of flight. . . . At last the basalt wall was close to him; again a panting sound arose among the rustling of the disturbed vegetable life. Zouhr stopped. His heart was bounding in his breast even as the lion bounded on the plain. The world was swimming before his dilated eyes. Life, which his young body loved, and which up to a moment ago seemed imperishable, was there; death was there also, made suddenly present by the approach of the wild beast. . . . The son of Earth felt as feeble as the ibis in the clutches of the eagle. . . . He no longer had any weapons even; he had only limbs without claws; the cruel fangs would dissect him like a fruit.

  That one moment seemed as long as a whole twilight Zouhr had his choice. On one side was the black lion and on the other the lair occupied by the giant feline. There was no longer time to hesitate. The devourer was six bounds distant from him. Then, in a second, with a giddy suddenness Zouhr resumed his flight; to die—but in the cavern-close to his refuge.

  He was engulfed in the jaws of basalt rock, like a sparrow in the mouth of a cobra.

  Two roars challenged each other. The massive black form of the lion stood out against the red light, and a creature of enormous stature stretched itself at the back of the lair. Then two bounds, the clashing of claws, the crashing of jaws and the giant feline had conquered. The black lion stumbled, rolled over, and conscious that it had met an unconquerable antagonist, grovelled and fled, its lifeblood flowing from a gaping wound.

  The other stood motionless, with its rock-like head held high; it watched the invader’s flight, and sent forth a thunderous roar towards the west.

  Zouhr had hardly seen the battle. He only knew that the conqueror was the one in whose den he had taken refuge. Lying prone, with his hands on the ground, he waited silent and immovable. He had so completely abandoned the contest that even his fear was numbed; the giant feline destroyed both hope and despair; Zouhr resigned himself to what would follow, as he had resigned himself to pain when the sabre-tooth ripped his chest.

  The colossus growled for another moment, then with heavy steps and licking a gash which had been made by the enemy’s claws, it went back into its cave. It sniffed at the body of the man lying prostrate at its feet, and put a foot down on him, heavy as that of a gaur. It might tear that quivering flesh without the man making any movement. But the brute did not attempt to rend him, its breath came quite gently; Zouhr guessed that it recognized the smell which had penetrated each day through the fissure in the basalt. Then hope revived, a revolution took place in his young flesh which brought back the thought of life and never ceasing desires. . . . He looked up at the monstrous muzzle and remembering that the brute was accustomed to listening to the human voice, he murmured, "Zouhr is like an antelope under the paw of the lion of the rocks!”

  The animal breathed harder, and gently removed its paw. The habit which had grown up between them when they were separated by the rock took on a new form. The Wah divined that every interval of peace increased his chances.

  All that continues is continued by repetition. As the carnivore had not already devoured the man no doubt it would now never devour him. Zouhr would now never be its prey; there would be an alliance between him and the animal. . . .

  Time passed. The crimson fire of the sun was about to disappear behind the hills. The giant feline had not struck. It listened intermittently to that changing voice which spoke to it. Crouched down before the son of Earth, it sometimes smelt him in order that it might know him better, sometimes it touched him with a velvet paw, as gently as it used to play with those who were bom on the same day with it in the maternal lair. Fear coursed like lightning flashes through Zouhr’s body, but each time with less violence. . . .

  Darkness was slowly creeping over the eastern clouds, and the entrance to the cave was filled with a violet hue; two stars twinkled and the night breeze blew against the chain of rocks.

  Then the giant feline rose up. The ardour of the chase Earned in its eyes, the night air with its smell of prey filled its nostrils. Zouhr knew that once more the moment of life or death was upon him. If the brute confused him with the trembling herb-croppers hidden in the jungle, the Son of Earth would never see Aoun again. Several times the great form came back towards the man. The fiery green eyes, that the darkness surrounded as with a halo, fixed themselves on the frail human being. . . . With a final snarl the carnivore left the cavern and gradually diminishing, disappeared into the night.

  The warrior said to himself, “The lion of the rocks ha
s made an alliance with Zouhr.”

  He went towards the fissure and shouted with a loud voice, “Aoun!”

  A short time afterwards he heard the step of his companion: the light of a torch shone red about him, the son of Urus saw Zouhr at the entrance to the cave and gave a cry of terror, "The tiger of the Man-Devourers' country will tear Zouhr in pieces!”

  "No,” replied the Wah.

  He told the tale of how the lion had pursued him and how he had come to the cave. Aoun listened with stupefaction to the story, first so wild, then so gentle, more wonderful than that of Naoh and the mammoths. The nomad soul, always ready for adventure and eager about unknown things, opened out.

  He said with pride, "Aoun and Zouhr are now equal to the chief of the Oulhamrs!”

  Then anxiety seized hold of him. He announced, "Zouhr cannot remain in the cavern any longer. I will go round and meet him.”

  The two men met again to the south of the chain of rocks; then, having lighted a fire on the ledge, they tasted the joy of a complete sense of security: while all around them in the brushwood and the jungle, ambushes were being laid from which the plaintive herb-croppers fled in the darkness, hiding themselves amongst the vegetation or dying under the claws of the carnivora.

  THE TIGER AND THE FLAME

  Aoun and Zouhr often went down to the fissure. When the giant feline was awake, they let it look at their faces and bodies, and spoke to it each in their turn. Aoun’s presence at first aroused its impatience, a deeper breath would expand its heavy chest, sometimes a snarl would mark its distrust and anger. At last the brute got accustomed to mingling the two odours, and when it approached the fissure it did so from a certain confused sense of sympathy, because even wild creatures feel the dullness of solitude.