We had lost much in the way of knowledge and science over the ages. There were of course drastic measures we could have taken, but these would have left the world a barren desert, devoid of all but the most rudimentary life forms. This we could not bring ourselves to do.
Some chose to leave well enough alone, these withdrew from the world altogether. Ask me not how it was accomplished, just know that it was done. Those of us who remained watched, and we waited and we learned. Your weapons were an anathema to us and we had none of our own. Instead we relied on stealth and cunning and your insatiable curiosity.
The Clans lost contact with one another. My Clan settled on this mountain and called it ours. And ours it remained, until the first human settlers came.
Direct confrontation with you brought only our own death, so we were forced to find a different method of dealing with you. I do not know how other colonies dealt with you – communication between colonies, by this time, was limited. Our way was to lead you astray.
You have only yourselves to blame really. You are such a curious race, and we found that curiosity was a tool we could use to great effect. All we needed to do was to allow one of you a glimpse or two of one of us. It would fire up that curiosity of yours and you would follow as we lured you to your death—a fall from a height, drowning, or just far enough from shelter that you would succumb to the cold, which was apparently an anathema to you. It never failed.
But we were limited to picking you off one at a time. It was never enough. No matter how many of you died, there were always more to take your place. Our numbers began to dwindle, and yours continued to grow.
So many humans, so few of us. We fled further and further up the mountain seeking refuge in places inhospitable to your kind, away from you and your technology. We grew older and more tired, but still we preyed upon you. It became a matter of old hatred and pride; habit, if you will.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
“Did you find him?” Maggie called from the back deck.
James turned at the sound of Maggie’s voice and started back towards her. He’d followed the tracks as far as he could. “There’s no sign of him. These tracks just peter out.”
“Where could he have gone?”
“I don’t know, Mags. But I think we need to call Frank Jensen.” Frank Jensen, his friend who volunteered with Search and Rescue.
“No, we need to keep looking.” Maggie tried to push past him.
“Maggie,” James said, taking hold of her by her shoulders. “There’s a lot of woods out there. We can’t do this on our own.”
“But he’s so little.” She collapsed against him.
“I know Mags,” he said gently. “But he’s a tough little guy. We’ll find him, but first we need to get some help.”
“I’ll start making some calls,” Frank said when James called him. “We’ve still got maps of the area with a grid laid out over them from when the hikers got lost last fall. Try not to worry, Jim. We’ll be at your place before you know it.”
Frank was as good as his word, and in a short time cars began pulling into the Preston’s driveway. Word had begun to spread; some of the cars belonged to friends and neighbors coming to lend their support.
Snow was just beginning to fall again as they set out in groups of two, one of each pair carrying a lantern. There was still a couple of hours of daylight left, but better to be safe than sorry. No one said it, but it was on everyone's mind. The longer the boy was out there, the smaller the chance of finding him alive.
One neighbor brought his hunting dogs, but so far they proved to be ineffective. The light was beginning to dim and the temperature was beginning to drop. Hope was fading.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Missed an installment? Catch up here:
Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16
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