“Chew on that, kitty!” shouted Hamhock, who had snuck up to our rock pile from the back of the cave where he was supposed to be.
And so it went for every cat: a leap forward, a volley of stones, a step or two backward.
But still—slowly, inexorably, the beasts crept toward the caves.
Soon, Smilus was close enough that I could see his oily hairs bristling. He smirked at me when he saw that there were no more rocks in our pile.
I stepped backward, wiping the sweat from my eyes.
“No need to wipe it away, Lug,” he said. “I like my humans nice and salty.”
Suddenly, I saw his left saber tooth splinter with a sickening crack. Echo had thrown the last stone in her hand. The tiger’s golden eyes blazed with fury.
“Ladies first, then!” he hissed, leaping at her.
“No!” I cried, stepping between them.
SOMETHING BIG AND snakelike suddenly lunged into the cave and wrapped itself around Smilus’s neck.
One moment the cat was a hairbreadth from me—teeth bared—and the next he was dangling in the air outside the cave.
“Mm … Mm … Mam?” he stammered.
“That’s right,” said a deep, rumbling voice. “Remember me?”
I scampered over to the cave entrance and looked up. A colossal reddish-brown mammoth had her trunk wrapped around the pop-eyed cat. Woolly was next to her—less than half the size of his mother, but scowling at Smilus just as fiercely. A dozen other mammoths were facing off with tigers around the clearing.
“What about Woolly’s father?” Mam demanded, bringing the squirming Smilus eye to eye with her. “Remember him?”
The big cat gasped for breath.
Suddenly, the tigress left Boss Hog and leapt at Mam, clawing a thick mat of fur off her left front leg with a terrible ripping sound.
Mam dropped Smilus, who landed on the tigress. Both cats yelped and staggered backward. The other mammoths charged. The cats leapt. The clearing echoed with roars, snarls, and yelps of pain.
Soon three tigers had Woolly surrounded.
“You pathetic hairball,” hissed Smilus. “Ready to die like your daddy?”
The mammoths were bigger and stronger, but the cats were more nimble and ruthless. They didn’t think twice about attacking the herd’s smallest and weakest.
Mam came rumbling toward them—scattering cats left and right.
They regrouped and ganged up on an old tuskless mammoth called Glacier. But it soon became clear that as long as Mam was around, the cats could never hold an advantage for very long.
Finally, six tigers trapped her against a cave wall, while the other six kept the remaining mammoths at bay.
Smilus crouched to leap for her exposed neck. “Any last words?” he sneered.
She looked around wild-eyed, but she was completely surrounded.
“Okay, Mam, time to say good-bYEOWWWWWWWWWW!” Smilus shrieked, feeling a tusk where no tusk should ever be felt.
He hightailed it into the trees as Woolly charged down the line, tusking every tiger butt in his path. Five more cats yowled and followed their boss into the jungle. Seeing their number cut in half, the rest disappeared just as quickly as they’d come.
At first, no one moved. We waited in our caves, listening. Had we really just been saved from certain death by a herd of shaggy behemoths? The four of us dashed out and hugged Woolly.
Soon, the other kids followed, gazing up in awe at the great beasts. Next came the women, shouting for the children to be careful. Finally, the men emerged, calling enthusiastically for a victory feast.
Unfortunately, the party would have to wait. We soon heard savage voices above us and saw the cats in the bare branches of the large gourd trees that surrounded our village.
Smilus’s big sinister eyes met mine. “Just wait until nightfall,” he hissed. “All you’ve done is delayed your own funeral.”
I looked at the sky and remembered last night’s tiny sliver of a moon. “If they come down tonight,” I said to Mam, “we won’t be able to see them.”
Mam nodded gravely. “They killed Woolly’s father on a moonless night.”
Echo glanced at Woolly, who was staring up at the treetops. “Mam,” she said, “is that when your son got separated from the herd?”
“A moon’s turn ago,” said the matriarch, “as we were heading south, the cats attacked us and killed Woolly’s father. My son got lost trying to run after them in the dark.”
“You!” shouted Boulder, pointing at Echo through the crowd. “You can talk to those … mammoth things, right?”
Echo’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded.
“Well, talk to that boss mammoth there,” he said, pointing at Mam. “They need to shake those trees and get rid of those cats now!”
Echo turned to Mam, but she had already understood.
“It’s not so easy,” said Echo, interpreting Mam’s words. “If we shake those trees, the cats will just jump into others.”
“He say! You do!” barked Bonehead, stepping out of the crowd. “My dad Big Man!”
“Not of our herd,” replied Mam. “We risked our lives to protect your clan, but only to repay your friends here for taking care of my son.”
Bonehead looked at Stony, Echo, Hamhock, and me. “Friends?” he scoffed. “Me rather be friends with cats!”
Mam spoke to the crowd this time. “If this is your future Big Man, then humankind is in big trouble,” she said.
Bonehead’s eyes nearly popped out.
“We’ve been moving south for months and haven’t seen a single human settlement that’s survived,” she continued. “A lot of bones in the snow, but that’s it. No one seems to have adapted to the tigers and the cold fast enough.” The throng grew around Mam as Echo interpreted her words. “I believe that the future of humankind depends on this group and the leader they choose.”
A hush went through the crowd.
Mam turned to the four of us. “Woolly told us how you helped him. If you wish to join our herd, you and your families are welcome. We will protect you. But only you.”
Bonehead sneered. “Go, Loony Lug! Go join herd!”
Echo gave me a look that said she was seriously considering it.
I shook my head at Boulder and Bonehead. “These are my people,” I said, gesturing toward the crowd of Macrauchenia Riders and Boar Riders watching us. “I’m staying right here.”
“Good,” said Boulder. “Because our clan is leaving!”
I stared at him. I hadn’t expected that.
“Macrauchenia Riders, follow me!” he boomed. “I know better caves! Hidden caves! Far from these nasty cats!”
The crowd stirred with excitement. Frogface and his wife, Birdbrain, immediately walked over and stood by the Big Man. They carried Bugeyes, who had recovered enough to shoot me a nasty look. Others began to follow. Then a familiar voice behind me announced: “I’m staying with Lug.”
I turned around to see my father step forward. As everyone watched, my parents and sister emerged from the throng and walked over to me. “I’m proud of you,” said my father, hugging me so hard I almost keeled over.
As soon as I caught my breath, I hugged him back.
“What a couple of weaklings!” jeered Boulder. “Like father, like son!”
My dad turned and looked at Boulder for a long moment. “Oh, go roll off a cliff,” he said.
A few people couldn’t help laughing.
Boulder’s face turned about halfway between red ocher and dodo blood. Then Stony’s family walked over to our side.
“Stupid traitors!” Boulder spat. He scanned the crowd menacingly. “Anyone else?”
To my amazement, Chip and Rock walked over to our side. Then their parents. Then several Boar Rider families. It wasn’t long before there were many more folks around us than around Boulder. I noticed that the Big Man’s forehead was starting to look as damp as a dewy leaf.
“Now, hold your stones, everyone,” he wheedled, f
lashing a little wooden smile. “I’m just trying to protect our clans here.”
“Well, then,” I said, “maybe you should stay and help out?”
Boulder glared at me, but it was Bonehead who spoke.
“PEBBLEHEADS!” he screamed at the crowd. “You follow Little Slug?”
“His name is Lug,” said my mother.
“Lug warned us—” said Chip.
“—about cats!” finished Rock.
“And he helped save us,” Boss Hog chimed in.
“What have you done for us, Bonehead?” asked my sister.
Bonehead suddenly leapt at her, but Boulder grabbed his son and held him back. “Come on!” growled our ex–Big Man. “Let them be cat food!”
And with that, Boulder and his little gang stomped off into the jungle.
I thought about running up to Bonehead and grabbing the stolen club my father had made for me, but I didn’t bother. I knew I’d need something much more powerful than that to stop the tigers, and I’d already gotten the best present I could ever get from my dad today.
I gazed up at the cats in the treetops. Then I looked around at all the people who had stayed with me to defend our village. I thought of Mam’s words about the future of humankind depending on the leader they chose. The strange thing was that they had chosen me.
I SAT AWAY from everyone, my back against the Shiny Stone, gazing up at the darkening sky. I could hear the branches creaking above as the cats shifted their bodies and awaited nightfall. The snow was still coming down, but I was more concerned with the sun now. It was getting well past its peak in the sky, and dusk was not far off.
Echo walked over to me. “Hey,” she said, “I never got to thank you, in the cave earlier.”
“Oh,” I said, “it was Mam who saved us.”
“If you hadn’t stepped in front of me, I’m not sure how things would have turned out.”
I looked up at the treetops. “It won’t matter much if we can’t scare those cats away before sunset,” I said.
She leaned in and gave my cheek a kiss.
I got all tingly and jumped up—banging my head on the Shiny Stone and nearly knocking myself out.
“You okay?” she asked.
I rubbed my head and took a deep breath. “If only there was something that scared the cats like that!”
“Yeah,” she said, glancing up at the sky. “Especially in the dark.”
I stared at her. Her words seemed vaguely familiar. I closed my eyes and tried to remember. “Especially in the dark,” I muttered. “Especially in the dark.” My eyes snapped open with a sudden memory. “Of course!”
“Lug?”
But I was already darting across the clearing—no time to explain. Clambering onto Woolly’s back, I whispered a few quick words in his ear. He nodded and headed for Mount Bigbigbig as fast as his legs could take us.
“Strange, isn’t it?” I whispered to Woolly as we stood in the snow and watched the mouth of Crag’s cave flicker with light and shadow. “Last time, Echo and I thought it was a trick of the eye caused by the falling snowflakes.”
Woolly eyed the entrance warily.
“Crag?” I shouted into the cave. “Crag, you in there?”
There was no answer but the howl of the wind.
I took a few cautious steps into the cave. The first thing I noticed was the warmth of the air. It felt like I’d stepped back in time—into the balmy jungle I’d known for most of my life. The farther in I ventured, the warmer the air became, and the brighter the flickering. Soon I heard the sounds of branches being broken and the strains of a scratchy voice, singing softly:
I’ll see you sooon …
When there’s no mooon …
When there’s a stooorm …
One must stay waaarm …
Peeking around a bend into a large circular chamber, I saw Crag sitting in the center, cracking sticks with his hands. He was next to something so strange and bright that I shielded my eyes for a moment. It seemed almost alive—hot and moving, glowing orange and yellow—as if a wild little piece of the sun had escaped and been trapped by him. The hot, glowing thing seemed to emanate from several crackling pieces of wood below it. A pungent gray cloud also arose from the wood and floated out through a crack in the ceiling. Eerie flickering shadows danced on Crag’s bald head and on the cave walls around him.
“Now, you be good and stay right there,” he said, his scratchy voice full of feeling.
I was about to reply when I suddenly realized that Crag was talking to a dark gray rock he’d just put down.
He looked up as if he’d been expecting me. “He always used to follow me around the cave,” Crag explained, gently petting the rock. “But I’ve finally trained Cole to stay. Look how well Cole stays now.”
“Um, yes … that’s … impressive.”
“Don’t tell me, tell Cole!” Crag sighed. “He’s a lonely fellow and could really use some company.”
“Ah,” I said, inching backward. “Good rock … Cole. Good rock.”
Crag stroked one of his luxuriant squirrel-tail-like whiskers, his blue eyes gleaming. “So you’ve come for my storm light,” he said, gesturing lazily toward the hot glowing thing.
I nodded. “You said it makes the beasts fear you. Especially in the dark.”
He suddenly grabbed the rock again and raised it up high.
But he brought it back down again after peering at it, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “How did you get the storm light in here?” I asked.
He silently picked up a small branch and stuck the tip into the storm light. Soon the tip crackled and had its own dancing glow. My eyes must have bulged with amazement, because Crag chuckled. “You do a fair imitation of a stunned squirrel,” he said, holding out the branch to me.
I stayed where I was, watching the orange-and-yellow flame slowly consume the wood. “Is it eating it?” I asked.
“Do squirrels eat nubnub nuts?”
“I … don’t know.”
“Me neither.”
I didn’t find this particularly informative, but I stepped forward and took the branch from his bony, gray-smudged hands.
“As long as you give it wood, the storm light lives,” he said. “But no matter what, keep it away from water. Don’t try peeing on it, believe me.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling the intense heat of it on my face. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I gave him a grateful nod and began to back away.
“Seriously, don’t mention it to anyone,” he said. “Well, besides your other banished friends, of course.”
“Oh,” I said, “we’re not banished anymore. Now there are these giant cats threatening the village, so—”
“Not banished?” He snatched the branch back, quick as a snake.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“Taking what’s mine,” he said, tossing the branch into the storm light. “Feel free to let yourself out. And have a marvelous day!”
“What? Wait! Don’t you … don’t you want to help your own people?”
“My people?” He let out a soft, mirthless chuckle. “My people banished me.”
“But you offered me the storm light when I first met you!”
“I overheard you talking to your friends that day,” he said. “You said you were banished. Like me.”
“I was.”
Crag’s bright blue eyes narrowed quizzically. “You mean … you’re helping the same people who banished you?”
“If no one does anything, giant cats will eat them alive!”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“You know, Crag, I used to kind of envy you. I wished that I could do whatever I wanted without anyone ever bothering me. But now I see what you’re like.”
The man gazed silently at the storm light, his eyes narrowing.
“Look,” I said, “what if I told you that all the other human clans have been wiped out by the cold?”
Crag g
lanced up at me. He suddenly looked very tired.
“The mammoths said they haven’t seen a single human settlement that’s survived,” I added.
“Then,” he whispered, “it’s probably too late.”
“Why?”
“Because the problem has gotten too big. Nothing can be done.” He resumed breaking branches in the woodpile.
I cleared my throat and tried to speak calmly. “Why did they banish you?”
“Why do you care?” he snapped, cracking another branch in two.
“I thought I’d been banished because I couldn’t catch a macrauchenia for the Big Game,” I said. “But it was really because our Big Man didn’t want me vying for power with his son.”
Crag looked up. “So Boulder hasn’t changed much, eh?”
I stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Now, that’s more of a stunned dodo look.”
“Did Boulder … banish you too?”
Crag shook his head. “Not exactly,” he said, gazing back into the flames. “Boulder and I are about the same age. When we were kids, I was very curious about the world. I would go exploring and invent things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Useful things,” he said, pointing at some funny-looking objects in a dark corner, “like the feather fluffer and the rock holder.”
“Never heard of them.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be huge one day,” he said. “But don’t get me wrong—not all of my inventions were useful.” He pointed at a strange thing with no corners lying abandoned against a wall.
“What do you call that?” I asked.
“The wheel,” said Crag. “Completely useless.”
I nodded.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I also liked to go exploring. I was fascinated by storm light. I’d seen it strike the mountain and always wondered what happened when it did. On every stormy day, I would sneak up the mountain and look for it. One morning I got lucky and saw the storm light strike a tree. And it made this happen,” he said, pointing to the flaming branches in front of him. “I called it fire.”
“Fire,” I repeated, watching it consume the stick he’d snatched back from me.
Lug, Dawn of the Ice Age Page 8
