Caveman Chronicles Index

The tundra was a barren place. At least that was what Pfftul and the other cavepeople thought. There were rumors of course, how could there not be? Occasionally someone would go missing, or a yak would turn up dismembered… or tiptoeing. Sometimes Ftulbi would stumble in half-clocked on fermented yak’s milk and rant endlessly about shadows moving in the storm.

“Urrgh, there are shadows,” he would say belligerently to anyone who would listen. “They’re moving in the storm!” He had such a suave way with words, and each time he would insist that his sister had been taken in times long past.

Everyone knew he was crazy though, because he would say the same thing even when there was no storm. His mam, older and wiser than Ftulbi, just shook her head at his mention of a sister. She never spoke, but was respected for her wisdom. A sister no caveman had ever seen, well that was plausible (though unlikely) in the tight knit community along the short cliffs by the river. A storm that no one saw was impossible. The nights on the tundra rose and fell with regularity as did each season that was set apart by its weather.

The weather was, simply – standard. Storms did come through at times, but the land above the shallow canyon was flat, and large clouds of dust or rain could be seen at a great distance. Most often, wildebeest hunters led by Kenthid would come bounding down the beaten path and warn the cave dwellers of any incoming storms. The warning today, merely a handful of moon-cycles from the great and frigid wetening, was just at dusk.

“It comes!” shouted Kenthid at the top of her throaty lungs. She had a tight grip on one wildebeest leg and the other two legs were clutched by Foopril and Gurp as they struggled to keep up with Kenthid’s long gait. “Everyone inside now!” she bellowed.

Wup turned from rolling his rock and scrunched up his nose as he peered toward the hollering and bounding troupe of hunters. “How long ’til she blasts us, Kenthid? I still need to finish this.” He nudged the rock with his foot.

“Who can measure time except the fab elder Shoofit? Your tiny brain cannot comprehend even if I could tell you.” Kenthid slid to a halt next to Wup and growled at him. “It comes soon.” She raised her wildebeest slapping stick threateningly. “I would whap you with this majestic stick if it were not against the natural laws.”

Wup flinched involuntarily, but then recovered and smiled. “Thank the clouds for elder Shoofit’s wisdom!” he yelled. Wup then turned and began to roll his rock further away from Kenthid’s position.

“If you die out here, I will be the first to loot your cave hollar,” Kenthid yelled after him. She shook her fist and then turned away to help others inside.

Wup ignored her and kept rolling away toward the river.

From the nearby entrance of a cave, Pfftul watched the exchange. Kenthid was not even an elder or the offspring of an elder. She was just bossy… and huge. Kpleeb had not been the first of his friends that she had driven onto the tundra in search of some dignity. His muscles flexed beefily as he hefted his carving rock and turned to make his way past the bend in the cave tunnel. The storm would arrive soon enough, and he enjoyed standing near the entrance and watching the sky darken.

Soon, after a short time, the storm did come. Only Ullipt was still outside trying to gather his muskrats into their pen-hole. Pfftul peeked out of the entrance and saw how he kicked them into the hole and rolled some logs over the top. Every time he got one muskrat in, another one would escape. Ullipt looked up in fear every few seconds as the wind began to howl. He kept at his work though. The sky glowed with a diffusion of distant light as it usually did.

Suddenly, the darkness fell completely, and Pfftul could not see Ullipt at all though he was just a stone’s throw away from this cave entrance.

“Ullipt!” Pfftul shouted. “OVER HERE!” He listened for a response but could not hear anything over the whistling and rushing wind. He strained his eyes but saw nothing except the blackness. Pfftul shuddered in fear. “Ullipt!!” He edged closer to the entrance and yelled again. His loincloth whipped his thighs ferociously.

Just then, Ullipt careened out of the dark and stumbled into Pfftul’s arms. He had a terrible gash across his forehead and his feet scrabbled at the stone as he tried to push past.

Pfftul held on to Ullipt. He knew him to be a caveman of focus and calm. “What happened to your head?” asked Pfftul. “Let’s go further inside.”

Ullipt was practically shoving his way through, and only stopped once they had rounded the bend in the tunnel. “It… It, – Urrgh!”

“Calm down, Ullipt,” said Pfftul. “What happened?”

“The storm,” Ullipt said with fear in his voice. “The shadows crawl in the storm!”

Pfftul felt a chill and clenched his carving rock tightly as he turned to look toward the bend in the passage. “Let’s go find a fire and get you some yak’s milk.” He paused and turned back to Ullipt. “I might have some too.”