When he reached a distance that seemed to
great he would halt, bow his head, and return.
Broken, frightened, the hero was dead! Only the shell lived.
The wild beast became ever braver. Fire, that strange creature
that turned night into day, no longer existed. Mankind huddled
by night in their abodes, listening, frightened, at the night
sounds.
The wolves became bolder. They hunted in larger and larger
packs, killed sheep at will. Soon village dogs became their
prey. And children who wandered alone into the night. Even men,
traveling alone, were subject to the deadly raid of the wolf
pack.
Prometheus and Demo came under attack. They slept in the open,
under the stars. Demo woke to hear the call of the wolves as
they assembled for the hunt. He grimaced, felt for his bow and
arrows.
Prometheus slept. Childlike, he trusted to Demo for his
protection.
The howls soon ceased. That silence, more than the wild calls,
frightened Demo. He notched an arrow to his bow, sat with back
against a huge oak. He watched the edges of the clearing,
looking for sign of motion.
He wasn't to be disappointed.
They came in the false dawn, quietly creeping to the edge of
the open space. Demo saw in the dim light their movement. He let
fly an arrow, prepared another. The yelp of the injured wolf
signaled the attack.
One more arrow flew and a wolf fell. The pack was upon him! He
had not time to draw his bow again.
With an angry roar Prometheus awoke.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198