Of food there was now every day a greater abundance. Fruits ripened and grew luscious over night. Hundreds of fish were left in shallows by the receding flood where they could be gathered by hand. And it was impossible to avoid stumbling over the egg-filled nests of the gulls and the oo-ee-a.
Also there were unknown dangers, and Tall grew ill with a fever that made the touch of his hands like the flames of the protecting fire. And although Big Foot and Quack Quack brought him every day fresh fruit and other food, which they sometimes roasted in the coals, he drove them away. Steadily he grew worse until madness came into his eyes and his voice rose above the quiet of the night and Laughing Boy grew fearful in spite of the friendly fire. For the roars of the sick man, Tall, echoed through the woods and the forest enemies would hear and approach.
But Tall could not be restrained. A new strength that comes with the fever fed his veins, and a night came when he thrust his companions from him and disappeared, screaming into the woods. They never saw him again. For as he ran, his wild cries filled the night and the very branches of the trees seemed to waken with the tumult.
Then came the grim howl of the hyena and the soft fall of padded feet upon the earth. Down the gulley a strange voice arose. Life stirred in the bushes and the hair on the head of Laughing Boy rose in terror.
Farther and farther receded the wailings of the sick man till at last a howl re-echoed in the darkness that brought the band of tribes people huddling together in fear. For it was the cry of the sabre-toothed tiger. Came then a stillness with only the voice of Tall driving the sweat out upon their bodies.
And while the little band fed the friendly fire and gathered near its protecting flames, they waited for the end of the sick man. It came at last, one long scream of agony, when the greatest enemy of all the hordes came upon him.
Big Foot knew and Strong Arm knew and the others of the tribes knew also that the danger to themselves was over for the night, but long they crouched in the light of the flames, ears twitching, nostrils quivering, like images of bronze frozen with fear.
Many other adventures befell the mixed group from the different clans, on their journeyings toward the Hollow which had been the home of the Cave People. There were dangers encountered and evaded or overcome in every hour of these eventful days. But at last they reached the ridge above the edge of the Hollow. Quack Quack and Strong Arm and the Foolish One and the others climbed the hill and gazed over into what had been once a lovely valley. But much of this lay filled with the soil left by the flood. Tall grasses waved in the breeze, and many new blossoms lifted their heads. And nearly all of the old familiar caves were filled with mud and covered up.
It was all very queer. And while they proceeded with caution, as men going into a strange land, the brush before them parted and they beheld the grinning features of Big Nose and Light Foot and behind them others of the Cave People, and a fuzzy woman from among the Hairy Folk and strange people and former enemies from the other clans, all of whom had escaped the flood and wandered back toward the dwelling places of their tribes.