Sunrise urged this man and that to travel forward in the night, and put the miles between them, and the hunter flames, but altho’ it was bitter cold on the plateau, he could persuade no one to move.
The tribe was so tired that it could hardly stand up. Men, women and children came close together for warmth, and in a tangled huddle prepared to pass the night. It became colder, and the stars began to appear here and there in the heavens.
The fire advanced upon the base of the plateau, and Sunrise raged at the people, who cuddling against each other for warmth, sat stupidly and regarded it.
But, in spite of his rage, he cuddled with them for the cold was now intense. He sat and reflected upon the roaring and vindictive enemy which he had aroused, and the cold increased. He recalled the warmth of the fire in his face, and he would have given something for a little of that warmth to stretch his hands against.
“And yet,” he said to himself, “in a little I shall be running at full speed from that same warmth. It will not be long before the sons of my stars come raging and roaring up the side of this hill, clearing the rocks and the earth, and the moss and whatsoever is on the hill. And yet the warmth was pleasant.”
His spine twisted him with a shiver. “If there were water here,” he said, “it would be turned into stone by the cold.”
All of a sudden one of the women fell to howling and beating her breasts; and the rest knew some one had died. It was the woman’s son, a boy, nearly a year old, whom she had lugged all the way from the caves. The cold had killed him.
“Be still, woman!” said old One Eye, coughing. “In a little we shall all be dead either from the heat yonder or the cold here. Beat your breasts as much as you wish for that will warm you; but do not howl, for some of us are weary, and wish very much to sleep.”
So the woman’s howl became a whimper, but she continued to beat her breasts. And the night went on, and the child lay frozen at her feet.
And now far below them, two thousand feet and more, the fire glowed in broken curves along the base of the plateau: but beyond that it did not seem to advance. The night wind blowing in the reverse direction rolled the smoke back upon its tracks and kept the view clear.