And so the hairy people at the council rock heard Og’s message from the speakers. They scattered from the council grounds and each began to gather great bundles of sticks which they carried up the face of the cliff to the doorway of each dwelling.
And when evening came on, Og, with great dignity, and with the tiger skin across his shoulders, set forth from his cave with a torch in each hand. And when the hairy folk saw him coming they raised a great shout, and watched him as he went from doorway to doorway and ignited each pile of sticks. Og was The Fire Lighter to the tribe then. A personage, indeed, something between chief and priest he seemed to the hairy folk, who greeted him with loud acclaim.
And as nightfall settled over the valley of the hairy folk the cliff side sparkled with many lights, for before each cave burned a cheery fire; before each cave save that of Gog, the chief. He, stubbornly jealous, had not built a pile of sticks before his door, and when Og saw this he passed by.
Thus did Og give fire to the race of hairy men, giving it generously, but saving for himself the secret he had discovered: the secret of the fire stones.
CHAPTER XVIII
GOG’S TREACHERY
Gog was a strong man. He was a fighter, fierce and brave and able, otherwise he could not have been the leader of the clan. But he was a thinker, too; at least his brain was developed in proportion to his strong body, and he could reason more clearly than the average man of the caves. And he was terribly jealous of Og because of his wisdom and the popularity he had won among the hairy folk because of his gift of fire.
Gog saw that the people of the tribe looked more to Og for guidance than they did to him now. This was a terrible blow to the old leader’s pride. Day after day he sat in the doorway of his cave and muttered and mumbled to himself, and sometimes he crunched his short, strong yellow teeth, so angry did he get at the thoughts of this young hairy one, hardly more than a boy, who was undermining his position as leader of the tribe.