And so matters went on until the summer of the big dryness. That was a terrible time. No rain fell during the birth, life and death of two moons. The grass turned yellow and brown, the little brooks dried up completely, the rivers sank and became chains of pools, the pools sank and retreated from each other, game became scarce, the wild raspberries and blackberries and strawberries did not come to full fruition because of the lack of water, and the struggle for existence became fierce and intolerable.
But Sunrise was quite happy, for he had just discovered that any two flints struck together with violence emitted stars, and wherever he went, he carried two flints to be his solace in the heat of the noon. It was no longer necessary to sacrifice good arrows. One day he halted for rest in a valley not far from the caves of his tribe, and taking his flints, one in each hand, fell to striking them lustily.
As luck would have it the sparks fell on a bed of tinder-dry, dusty white lichen, and made black marks on it.
This interested Sunrise and he struck again and again. Then he examined the black marks and wondered at the why and the wherefore.
Of a sudden he noticed that one of the marks was growing—it spread rapidly in all directions, and its edges curled upward and were red. Then a gust of wind whirled up the valley and the whole bed of lichen burst into flame. Sunrise tried to catch the flames in his hands, and sprang away with a yelp, for it seemed as if a snake had bitten him. The flames sprang into a bush and roared. Sunrise backed away holding his hands before his face. The wind and the flames seemed to increase together. The whole side of the valley began to burn, brightly and fiercely, the flames leaped up creepers and among the branches of trees, and the roaring of them increased in power. And Sunrise, held by wonder and driven by fear, backed slowly away; but fire and the fierce heat rushed at him and billows of smarting smoke swept over him and presently he turned and ran for his life. And the fire that he had kindled, snapped and roared on his trail.
CHAPTER XVI
THE FLIGHT OF THE TRIBE
Panting he bade She Wolf and Dawn leave the cave and run till they could run no further, and he dashed from cave to cave and called upon his people to run for their lives.