Og—Son of Fire

by Irving Crump

There were some among these visitors who became really friendly with Og. He liked them and encouraged their friendship and gave them scraps of cooked meat so that they could enjoy his feasting with him. For some reason Og found a keen delight in doing this and he always watched the expressions with interest when they pulled apart the steaming morsels with their fingers and teeth and tasted the flavor that the fire had given the meat. Every one of his visitors enjoyed the taste of cooked meat and they all told of the delight among their friends until it was not long before Og was besought by scores to cook meat for them so that they too could try the pleasure of this new-found delight.

Their number grew and grew and Og did the best that he could to favor all of them, but he noticed with interest that never once did Gog appear at the fire. The old leader was often to be seen stalking by when others were gathered about his cave door, but he pretended not to take notice of Og and his fire.

The hairy boy soon guessed that the old savage was jealous of his power and his popularity and it was not long before he knew that he had guessed right, for through his friends Og heard of the talk that Gog was making among the hairy people. It was talk that even worried Og a little for the old leader whispered that Og was in league with evil monsters and the dead. Og did not know just what he meant but the suggestion had a sinister sound. So far the hairy folk had not progressed far enough up the scale of intelligence to even think of witchcraft and secret alliances with the spirit world. But they did know that death was a sinister thing and that one who had died passed through an experience that was beyond their comprehension and very uncanny. For a living being to be allied with those who were dead was a fearsome thing even to think about. And most of the hairy people remembered that he had been left behind when the tribe had fled from the wrath of the volcano. Perhaps he had been dead and had come back from the dead world again.

Some of Og’s friends dropped away from him when Gog began to make such talk. But others of stouter heart, who had eaten much of Og’s cooked meat and had been closer to him, remained loyal and denied Og’s fellowship with the dead. And they were the stronger and more intelligent men of the tribe. Indeed they perceived that Og had a great deal that was good about him and they understood too that his control over the Fire Monster could bring much good to the clan if only Og could be persuaded to be even more generous than he had been.

They talked thus among themselves, and they talked so much that soon their talk took on the nature of a clan council and they gathered about the council rock, squatted in a big circle while first one and then another stood upon the rock and talked to the rest; talked and told them how good Og was and what a great benefit to the tribe he possessed in his control of fire. They told of the cooked meat over and over again, and they told of how the great leopard had left Og’s cave unmolested, and how Og with his fire brands had driven off the woolly rhinoceros. Again and again they told these things for that was the only way they knew of arguing their case and carrying home their point to the listeners squatted in a circle about the great rock.

Og did not gather at the council. He noted too that Gog was not there either. But both watched the proceedings from their cave doorways; Gog with much jealous grunting and angry, guttural sounds to his wife; Og with a strange mixture of pride and selfishness; pride that he should be so great as to have the clan assemble in council about him, yet selfish, for he knew that the speakers of the clan were trying to work up the people to the point where they would come to him and ask him to give to them the most precious thing he possessed: the fire secret.

The hairy boy knew full well why the council was being held, and as he watched he wondered just what he should do when the speakers came to him with gifts of meat and stone hammers and asked him to share his fire secret with the tribe. The secret meant much to him, for it made of him one apart from the rest. It meant that he possessed the strongest weapon that a hairy man could have. It meant that he had warmth and comfort greater than any others. Why should he share it? It was in the hairy boy to think of himself first.

Yet somehow this, though, did not seem comforting. There was the council gathered. He had made a discovery that would benefit all of them. They realized it. Soon they would come and ask him for his help. All this was flattering. They thought well of him. They would still think well of him if he gave them what they asked. But they would not think well of him—he would not be so great—if he refused. They would say evil things of him as Gog had done. They would believe the old leader’s suggestions. They would avoid him. He would have no friends to gather about his fire so they could all make full belly talk together and feel lazy and drowsy in the warmth of his fire.

Even to think of the hairy people feeling ill disposed toward him hurt Og’s pride. He did not want them to think him selfish and mean. It would make him feel better to have them say among themselves, “Og is kind. Og is good. Og is a great man.”