It would take too long to tell all the things that happened to Fleetfoot before he returned. One of the first things he did was to kill a cave-bear and take the trophies.
When Fleetfoot started out again, he wore a necklace of bear’s teeth. He wore them partly because they were trophies and partly because they were charms.
Fleetfoot followed the trail along the edge of the forest until he reached a ridge of hills. Behind him lay the River of Stones and all the places he had known. Before him lay a pretty valley about a day’s journey across. To his left the snow-covered mountain peaks shone with a dazzling light.
He stopped only to sleep and to make offerings to the gods. Fleetfoot was full of courage, and yet he was weak from his fast. He longed to be strong against all foes. He longed to be a great hunter. He longed to strengthen his people and to meet the dangers which threatened his clan.
At midday he reached the river, where he sat down to rest. Then he went up the little river, which flowed over a rocky bed.
Fleetfoot followed the river until he came to a spot where it seemed to end. Great masses of snow and ice covered the river bed. Farther up they reached the top of the cliffs and stretched out into the valley.
It was the melting of this glacier which fed the little stream.
Fleetfoot stood and gazed at the glacier with its rough billows of snow and ice. He looked at the green forests which stretched to its very edge. He looked at the great ice sheets which covered the mountain peaks. He looked at the bare crags which jutted out from the rocks. And he wondered if the Big Bear’s cave was in one of these rocks.
