Genesis | Page 8

impossible to move her, and she stabbed herself with her dagger to save a
cartridge. Seldar Glav had broken through the ice while crossing a river, and had lost his
rifle; the next day he died of the chill he had taken. Olva had been killed by the Hairy
People, the night they had attacked the camp, when Varnis' child had been killed.
They had beaten off that attack, shot or speared ten of the huge sub-men, and the next
morning they buried their dead after their custom, under cairns of stone. Varnis had
watched the burial of her child with blank, uncomprehending eyes, then she had turned to
Kalvar Dard and said something that had horrified him more than any wild outburst of
grief could have.
"Come on, Dard; what are we doing this for? You promised you'd take us to Tareesh,
where we'd have good houses, and machines, and all sorts of lovely things to eat and
wear. I don't like this place, Dard; I want to go to Tareesh."
From that day on, she had wandered in merciful darkness. She had not been idiotic, or
raving mad; she had just escaped from a reality that she could no longer bear.
Varnis, lost in her dream-world, and Dorita, hard-faced and haggard, were the only ones
left, beside Kalvar Dard, of the original eight. But the band had grown, meanwhile, to
more than fifteen. In the rear, in Seldar Glav's old place, the son of Kalvar Dard and
Analea walked. Like his father, he wore a pistol, for which he had six rounds, and a
dagger, and in his hand he carried a stone-headed killing-maul with a three-foot handle
which he had made for himself. The woman who walked beside him and carried his
spears was the daughter of Glav and Olva; in a net-bag on her back she carried their
infant child. The first Tareeshan born of Tareeshan parents; Kalvar Dard often looked at
his little grandchild during nights in camp and days on the trail, seeing, in that tiny
fur-swaddled morsel of humanity, the meaning and purpose of all that he did. Of the
older girls, one or two were already pregnant, now; this tiny threatened beachhead of
humanity was expanding, gaining strength. Long after man had died out on Doorsha and
the dying planet itself had become an arid waste, the progeny of this little band would
continue to grow and to dominate the younger planet, nearer the sun. Some day, an even
mightier civilization than the one he had left would rise here....
* * * * *
All day the trail had wound upward into the mountains. Great cliffs loomed above them,
and little streams spumed and dashed in rocky gorges below. All day, the Hairy People
had followed, fearful to approach too close, unwilling to allow their enemies to escape. It
had started when they had rushed the camp, at daybreak; they had been beaten off, at cost
of almost all the ammunition, and the death of one child. No sooner had the tribe of
Kalvar Dard taken the trail, however, than they had been pressing after them. Dard had
determined to cross the mountains, and had led his people up a game-trail, leading toward
the notch of a pass high against the skyline.
The shaggy ape-things seemed to have divined his purpose. Once or twice, he had seen

hairy brown shapes dodging among the rocks and stunted trees to the left. They were
trying to reach the pass ahead of him. Well, if they did.... He made a quick mental survey
of his resources. His pistol, and his son's, and Dorita's, with eight, and six, and seven
rounds. One grenade, and the big demolition bomb, too powerful to be thrown by hand,
but which could be set for delayed explosion and dropped over a cliff or left behind to
explode among pursuers. Five steel daggers, and plenty of spears and slings and axes.
Himself, his son and his son's woman, Dorita, and four or five of the older boys and girls,
who would make effective front-line fighters. And Varnis, who might come out of her
private dream-world long enough to give account for herself, and even the tiniest of the
walking children could throw stones or light spears. Yes, they could force the pass, if the
Hairy People reached it ahead of them, and then seal it shut with the heavy bomb. What
lay on the other side, he did not know; he wondered how much game there would be, and
if there were Hairy People on that side, too.
Two shots slammed quickly behind him. He dropped his axe and took a two-hand grip on
his stabbing-spear as he turned. His son was hurrying forward, his pistol drawn, glancing
behind as he