White Island (Part Two, of Six Parts) - The Younger World
Advance: Blanca Island is a mountain island, in the Pacific, off the coast of Peru, some 16.
5 square km, about two-miles long, and close to one mile wide, with a stone forest upon it.
Conceivable this period we are talking about is in the Pleistocene Epoch, 100,000 to 8000 BC.
Well, do I remember my other dreams? In my old age they come back to me harder, slower now, but it is easier to talk about my dreams while in a state of half-sleep, or dreaming.
I have very long dreams now.
I remember the first cold spell we had off the island, I was blue faced and my teeth were chattering.
We had all gone into one cave; there were forty-two of us then, huddling all together in a bat cave, with all its secretions, it smelled badly, but our body heat kept us warm while waiting for the morning sun.
Old Crackle Bone was the elder of the group, he like me, like all of us, had never seen ice before.
Perhaps we were going into an Ice Age.
I had heard in one of my dreams, what a voice said, that: '...
a Glacier Period is upon you.
' Yes, first it was dreams, and then voices came into my head, while in the dreams.
When I tried to explain to Old Crackle Bone, it was going to get colder, his blank to melancholic look which came into our eyes, told us, many would die, I understood this, but I doubt many others did.
Old Crackle Bone was of my family, an uncle or something of that nature, my mother's brother, if I recall right: we had such insight ever since I can remember.
He was always vague and inexpressible, but when he inferred something, he was seldom wrong.
I have now many memories of many cold winters, that took place thereafter, but this first one was the coldest.
North of us, there was much migration drifting south, so it must have been much worse there.
The first few winters little was ever planned.
We ate as usual, when we were hungry, avoided the wolves, and found caves that didn't smell.
Time passed swiftly, we were easily amused, and Old Crackle Bone played pranks on us all.
In my dreams I felt I had a purpose, but outside of them, I never could figure them out, I even thought my dreams then were inconsequential, until I started dreaming again.
We caught fish in the streams; the ice was thin, nothing more.
Just fish, oh, on a few occasions a bird, the Hairy One, my brother, he could hit a bird with a rock a hundred feet away.
My mother was the Mocker, no one bothered her, and she was so very huge, ferocious, and heavy.
It would seem to me, as I remember this, now in my dream world, I seem to be more serious, more adult like, and while in my real world, you know the one I am from, the Younger World, I am much more playful, like the children, perhaps even a little more animal like.
What little I've learned from one world to the other, is due to my curiosity, and now I remember bits and pieces of it, while in the real world-as time goes on, so does my intensity grow to explore more of this plague infested world.
But something happened the third year of the winters, we discovered a weapon against the cold, it was brought down from the North, it was called "Fire!" We all applauded for it, admired those who had it, and we had learned quick how to use it.
We lost several in those three, first winter years to the cold, but now we have our preventive element.
Also a few of the Northern Forest-dwellers joined us those who were not of our island, we felt perfectly safe with them at first-and we even shared our wives with them-lest our race die out and theirs-we all chattered together, misunderstood each other.
They taught us how to hunt animals, with a spear, and now we were chasing the wolves for meat.
They left us soon thereafter, evidently, we didn't see eye to eye, they gave us wives and we gave them wives, and so we had more when they left, than when they first arrived-so we were not less for doing it.
Old Crackle Bone, even tried to spear one, and the wolf sank his sharp large teeth into his arm, and dragged him around like a dead leaf from a tree.
I think he died from the suddenness of the bite, and surprise of the wolf, I didn't see him struggle much.
Anyhow, that was my first winter, and a few extra winters to boot,and a few other jarring elements for my DNA to remember-to seed it to you, I heard that word in one of my past dreams, something aboutthe process of becoming a human being, orman, although I'm not sure what all that means, or matters.
Java Girl is waiting for me at our drinking spot-I name her Java Girl, she didn't have a name before, other than a nickname 'Thin-legs' and of course I heard that name in my dreams and she liked it better than Thin-legs.
So, I'll try to wake myself up, get out of this approaching dark dream-I think a nightmare is upon me, I get them also, fore-runners to some kind of future disaster.
5 square km, about two-miles long, and close to one mile wide, with a stone forest upon it.
Conceivable this period we are talking about is in the Pleistocene Epoch, 100,000 to 8000 BC.
Well, do I remember my other dreams? In my old age they come back to me harder, slower now, but it is easier to talk about my dreams while in a state of half-sleep, or dreaming.
I have very long dreams now.
I remember the first cold spell we had off the island, I was blue faced and my teeth were chattering.
We had all gone into one cave; there were forty-two of us then, huddling all together in a bat cave, with all its secretions, it smelled badly, but our body heat kept us warm while waiting for the morning sun.
Old Crackle Bone was the elder of the group, he like me, like all of us, had never seen ice before.
Perhaps we were going into an Ice Age.
I had heard in one of my dreams, what a voice said, that: '...
a Glacier Period is upon you.
' Yes, first it was dreams, and then voices came into my head, while in the dreams.
When I tried to explain to Old Crackle Bone, it was going to get colder, his blank to melancholic look which came into our eyes, told us, many would die, I understood this, but I doubt many others did.
Old Crackle Bone was of my family, an uncle or something of that nature, my mother's brother, if I recall right: we had such insight ever since I can remember.
He was always vague and inexpressible, but when he inferred something, he was seldom wrong.
I have now many memories of many cold winters, that took place thereafter, but this first one was the coldest.
North of us, there was much migration drifting south, so it must have been much worse there.
The first few winters little was ever planned.
We ate as usual, when we were hungry, avoided the wolves, and found caves that didn't smell.
Time passed swiftly, we were easily amused, and Old Crackle Bone played pranks on us all.
In my dreams I felt I had a purpose, but outside of them, I never could figure them out, I even thought my dreams then were inconsequential, until I started dreaming again.
We caught fish in the streams; the ice was thin, nothing more.
Just fish, oh, on a few occasions a bird, the Hairy One, my brother, he could hit a bird with a rock a hundred feet away.
My mother was the Mocker, no one bothered her, and she was so very huge, ferocious, and heavy.
It would seem to me, as I remember this, now in my dream world, I seem to be more serious, more adult like, and while in my real world, you know the one I am from, the Younger World, I am much more playful, like the children, perhaps even a little more animal like.
What little I've learned from one world to the other, is due to my curiosity, and now I remember bits and pieces of it, while in the real world-as time goes on, so does my intensity grow to explore more of this plague infested world.
But something happened the third year of the winters, we discovered a weapon against the cold, it was brought down from the North, it was called "Fire!" We all applauded for it, admired those who had it, and we had learned quick how to use it.
We lost several in those three, first winter years to the cold, but now we have our preventive element.
Also a few of the Northern Forest-dwellers joined us those who were not of our island, we felt perfectly safe with them at first-and we even shared our wives with them-lest our race die out and theirs-we all chattered together, misunderstood each other.
They taught us how to hunt animals, with a spear, and now we were chasing the wolves for meat.
They left us soon thereafter, evidently, we didn't see eye to eye, they gave us wives and we gave them wives, and so we had more when they left, than when they first arrived-so we were not less for doing it.
Old Crackle Bone, even tried to spear one, and the wolf sank his sharp large teeth into his arm, and dragged him around like a dead leaf from a tree.
I think he died from the suddenness of the bite, and surprise of the wolf, I didn't see him struggle much.
Anyhow, that was my first winter, and a few extra winters to boot,and a few other jarring elements for my DNA to remember-to seed it to you, I heard that word in one of my past dreams, something aboutthe process of becoming a human being, orman, although I'm not sure what all that means, or matters.
Java Girl is waiting for me at our drinking spot-I name her Java Girl, she didn't have a name before, other than a nickname 'Thin-legs' and of course I heard that name in my dreams and she liked it better than Thin-legs.
So, I'll try to wake myself up, get out of this approaching dark dream-I think a nightmare is upon me, I get them also, fore-runners to some kind of future disaster.
Source...