Authors: Chad Oliver
In
the
blue
distance
at
the
head
of
the
valley,
a mighty
torrent
of
water
thundered
down
from
the mountains
in
a
spectacular
waterfall.
It
smashed
down for
fully
one
hundred
feet
into
a
rock
basin,
where
the white
clouds
of
spray
were
turned
all
the
colors
of
the rainbow
by
the
setting
sun.
From
the
basin,
the
water boomed
down
in
a
lovely
double
cascade,
one
stream on
either
side
of
the
basin.
The
cascades
dropped
into a
deep,
bubbling
pool,
and
from
the
pool
streamed
the water
that
flowed
through
the
valley,
cold
and
sparkling
in
the
last
light
of
evening.
Thick
green
grass
covered
the
valley
floor
like
a
soft carpet,
and
clumps
of
sweet-smelling
pines
grew around
the
edges
and
up
into
the
surrounding
hills. The
air
was
incredibly
fresh
and
clean,
with
just
a
hint of
campfire
smoke
and
the
delicious
smell
of
roasting meat.
Under
the
pines,
and
spread
somewhat
up
into the
hills,
were
large
and
well-constructed
lean-to
structures,
built
with
a
framework
of
poles
covered
with great
cured
skins.
In
front
of
the
lean-tos,
small
fires blazed
cheerily.
Upon
the
rock
ledges
that
broke
out
from
the
hillsides,
Mark
could
see
the
dark
openings
of
a
labyrinth of
caves.
Within
the
depths
of
the
caves,
but
not
too far
from
the
entrance,
fires
crackled
with
heat
and
light.
The
valley
was
not
silent,
but
neither
was
it
noisy.
A soft
roar
from
the
cascades
in
the
distance
filled
the
air with
a
gentle
backdrop,
and
there
was
the
humming sound
of
many
voices.
From
one
of
the
caves
came
the sharp
tick-tick
of
rock
striking
against
rock.
The
valley
seemed
to
be
filled
with
people—not
that there
were
really
so
many
there,
certainly
not
over sixty
or
seventy,
but
it
was
the
most
people
Mark
had seen
together
in
a
long
time.
There
were
men,
women, and
children,
young
and
old.
The
men
and
the
women were
dressed
in
furs,
like
Tlaxcan,
and
the
children, for
the
most
part,
were
as
innocent
of
clothing
as
the
day
they
were
born.
Mark
noticed
that
many
of
the women
wore
necklaces
and
bracelets
of
sea
shells, which
indicated
either
that
these
people
were
closer
to the
sea
than
he
had
imagined,
or
were
in
contact
with those
who
were.
The
men
wore
charms
of
bone,
shell, or
ivory.
Mark
saw
no
animals
of
any
sort
about,
although
he
did
hear
an
occasional
growl
from
one
of
the empty-looking
caves
that
sounded
like
a
wolf
or
dog of
some
kind.
As
Mark
looked
about
him
in
amazement,
his
earlier hunch
about
Tlaxcan
was
abundantly
confirmed.
There could
be
no
doubt
about
it
whatever
now.
Mark
knew beyond
question
that
he
saw
before
him
a
camp
of astonishing
people.
He
knew
that
he
was
looking
upon one
of
the
most
remarkable
cultures
in
all
the
fantastic history
of
mankind.
He
was
in
the
midst
of
the
Cro-Magnons.