Mists of Dawn (56 page)

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Authors: Chad Oliver

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With
the
last
horrible
word,
Mark
quickly
lifted
his hands
to
the
level
of
Qualxen’s
face
and
snapped
the two
matches
together.
There
was
a
sharp
crack
and
a puff
of
flame.
Qualxen
stood
his
ground,
but
it
was
easy to
see
that
he
was
terrified.
The
red
flower,
fire,
out
of nothing!
Contemptuously,
Mark
blew
out
the
matches and
tossed
them
into
the
fire.

Qualxen
recovered
his
composure
and
grinned
delightedly.
“Orn,”
he
said,
again
touching
Mark
on
the shoulder.
“Orn!”
Qualxen
knew
a
powerful
shaman when
he
saw
one,
and
he
wanted
to
be
on
his
side. Mark
knew
that
he
had
made
a
powerful
ally
in
the camp
of
the
Cro-Magnons—and,
besides,
he
found
himself
rather
liking
the
intriguing
Qualxen.

Qualxen
led
the
way
back
through
the
cave,
and
as they
drew
nearer
the
entrance
Mark
felt
his
high
spirits begin
to
desert
him.
Whether
Qualxen
was
friendly
or not,
that
grim
ceremony
in
the
dark
cavern
had
been in
dead
earnest.
It
would
take
more
than
a
trick
with a
match
to
bring
down
the
monster
mammoth.

It
was
night
now,
a
cold
night
frosted
with
stars.
The icy
wind
sighed
across
the
valley
floor
and
touched Mark
with
chill
fingers.
In
the
distance,
the
great waterfall
thundered
forever
down
its
silver
cascades. And
beyond
that—was
it
only
Mark’s
imagination? The
deep
trumpetings
of
gigantic
mammoths!

Chapter
12
 A
 
New World

Mark now
found
himself
in
a
somewhat
peculiar
position.
He
had
made
friends
among
the
Cro-Magnons,
and
he
was
at
least
tolerated
by
the
tribe. But
he
was
not
a
member
of
the
tribe,
and
he
was not
related
by
kinship
to
anyone
who
was,
except
in the
figurative
sense
that
he
was
their
“brother.”
That might
be
enough
to
do
the
trick
eventually,
but
not
yet. Where
was
he
to
stay?
There
were
no
hotels
in
50,000
b
.C.,
and
no
tourist
courts.

His
friend
Tlaxcan
was
nowhere
to
be
seen,
but
he had
evidently
arranged
things
ahead
of
time.
Qualxen led
Mark
to
a
small
cave
in
the
hill
and
told
him
that he
would
see
him
when
the
great
red
flower
bloomed again—that
is,
when
the
sun
came
up
in
the
morning. He
smiled
in
friendly
fashion
and
left
Mark
alone
for the
night.

Although
there
was
no
moon
as
yet,
it
was
clearly quite
late,
and
Mark
had
difficulty
estimating
the
exact time.
He
looked
out
of
the
mouth
of
the
cave,
but
the valley
of
the
Danequa
was
utterly
deserted
under
the stars.
Everyone
was
asleep,
and
only
the
great
waterfall
lived
and
talked
in
the
night.
It
was
cold,
but
Mark 
found
a
fur
covering
that
had
been
left
in
the
cave
for him.
He
wrapped
himself
up
in
this
and
was
quite comfortable.

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