But now, something unusual and rather frightening had
happened. Something was the matter with the weather. The
warm days of summer had come very late. The fruits had
not ripened. The tops of the mountains which used to be covered
with grass now lay deeply hidden underneath a heavy
burden of snow.
Then, one morning, a number of wild people, different
from the other creatures who lived in that neighbourhood, came
wandering down from the region of the high peaks. They
looked lean and appeared to be starving. They uttered sounds
which no one could understand. They seemed to say that
they were hungry. There was not food enough for both the
old inhabitants and the newcomers. When they tried to stay
more than a few days there was a terrible battle with claw-like
hands and feet and whole families were killed. The others fled
back to their mountain slopes and died in the next blizzard.
But the people in the forest were greatly frightened. All
the time the days grew shorter and the nights grew colder than
they ought to have been.
Finally, in a gap between two high hills, there appeared a
tiny speck of greenish ice. Rapidly it increased in size. A
gigantic glacier came sliding downhill. Huge stones were
being pushed into the valley. With the noise of a dozen thunderstorms
torrents of ice and mud and blocks of granite suddenly
tumbled among the people of the forest and killed them
while they slept.
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