All that afternoon Web Toe was compelled to cling to the fork of the pine tree. Soon he grew quiet, for he remembered that safety lies in silence. He folded his arms about a branch and made himself as flat and inconspicuous as he could.
The cubs curled themselves up at their mother’s feet and went to sleep and, at length, close to the pine tree, she also seemed to doze.
It might have been possible for Laughing Boy to slide down the opposite side of the boulder and steal away unnoticed. Who can say? It may have been a fear of the long journey back to the cave people alone that deterred him. Anyway, he clung to the rock and waited. A long drink from his water bag relieved his thirst and he, too, fell asleep. But there was no drinking for poor Web Toe. He had only his marvelous tom-tom in place of a water bag, and his lips grew parched and he longed to scream from fear and thirst.
After a long time darkness came and at last the moon arose, and still the two boys neither moved nor spoke. The cubs awoke and stretched themselves and moved about, and at last the black bear arose also and led them away to some hidden spring known only to herself.
Then, very cautiously, Web Toe slid to the ground and called to Laughing Boy, who joined him, and together, with great fear in their hearts, they turned their faces homeward.
And all that fearful, weary way Web Toe thought of new dangers and of cool springs and Laughing Boy’s emptied water bag. Never again would he go honey-hunting or any other sort of hunting in the dry season without water at his side. And when at last they reached the dwelling place of the tribe Web Toe ran to the spring and threw himself into the water and drank until he was near water-logged.
And so Web Toe became the great waterman of the tribe—another great waterman, who spoke always words of warning of the terrible things that may befall boys and girls and men and women, who journey far from the spring without a bag of water.
Stories he told the people of the tribe on his return with Laughing Boy of how, sick of thirst, he had faced the black bear and driven her before him. But he had nothing to prove his words, for Laughing Boy returned also empty-handed.
It was adventures like this that taught the Cave People and all the other tribes to travel close to the water’s edge. And so it was that when the Foolish One made the first clay pot, the people praised him and called him Wise.
The clay pot was the accident of a fool. Many great discoveries have been the accidents of other fools. For wise people do always everything as nearly as possible as their fathers have done and new things are only learned through departures into new ways.