This page needs to be proofread.
of the noon. It was no longer necessary to sacrifice good arrows. One day he halted for rest in a valley not far from the caves of his tribe, and taking his flints, one in each hand, fell to striking them lustily.
As luck would have it the sparks fell on a bed of tinder-dry, dusty white lichen, and made black marks on it.
This interested Sunrise and he struck again and again. Then he examined the black marks and wondered at the why and the wherefore.
