Chapter Ten
Mick and Elliott had been allowed to roam the cave and what they found was amazing. This little stone age community had it all, the warriors, cooks, artisans. Especially the artists. Muralists rather as all the walls had depictions of hunts, beasts, women with babies. As they followed the cave walls, Elliott stopped. American Indians with their bows and arrows and horses. Must be the Shoshone. A pow wow. Mick wondered who taught whom how to use those weapons.
Next a raid with women taken and then a confrontation. Many men killed before their retreat up into the mountains again.
Then the advent of the white men. First the Jeremiah Johnsons then the silver miners, Ashcroft!
"They've survived all this time, Ell, without anyone knowing. How is that possible?"
"Dad, they've adapted by watching, learning and taking very little. That silver spoon was probably from one of the miners; the crockery looked more modern. Why do you suppose they don't have any girls?"
"Maybe too much inbreeding and they can't have children. Maybe something like disease caused the women to die?"
"Dad, what do they want us for?"
"Don't worry, Elliott. When they spotted you, a child, they knew you had a mother; and where there's one woman, there will be lots more."
"Sort of like at the mall, huh?"
Laughing, Mick squeezes his son. "Exactly, my man." He winks. "Or in the case of Aspen, at the bars."