He may well
need your aid one day."
She did not realize how prophetic were her words.
Leaving their home he strode rapidly through the open forest of
oak trees. Soon the land began to rise. He climbed the high
mountains, their peaks glistening in the sun. The oak trees
gradually thinned, and pines began to take their place. And at
the higher reaches even the pines gave way to scrubbrush and
weeds. Sunlight was beginning to disappear as he climbed, and he
noted the dark thunderclouds, forming in the north. There shall
be weather by nightfall, he thought.
"The deer will sense it. They will be searching for shelter.
And I know the grove where they will congregate, waiting for the
storm to pass." He voiced the words even as they came to mind.
It was a habit formed of living a lonely life. Since he had
none to talk to on his frequent excursions, he talked softly to
himself.
At times he argued with himself - now supporting a position;
now, opposing it. Such mental contests amused him, sharpened his
wits, or so he led himself to believe.
"They will drift down to the little valley on yonder hillside.
I can be there by set of sun, or perhaps travel under moonlight,
and our larder will be well-stocked tomorrow."
Today he didn't argue with himself. It was a good plan. He
began the climb to the mountain valley.
Few paths led into the mountains. Torturous and narrow they
quickly petered out into animal trails or ended abruptly without
cause.
Pages:
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27