Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1895-05-11
A PRIMEVAL STORY.

| A PRIMEVAL STORY.
Chug did not know that he belonged
in the post tertiary period of the world
as he stood beside the tawny waters Of
great inland sea whose waves gently
washed the warm shores of the young
earth.
He was in Kansas, although he was
not aware of it, although as he stood he
looked off into the northwest anxiously
for the clouds that would bring rain to
break the drought.
The little brook which now winds
through the valley where he stood is a
mere glimmering ghostlet of its mighty
post tertiary predecessor, the sea.
Chug was young and 1.-THE and stall
wart, like the machairodus of the cata-
clysmio caves. His whole body was hard
as wood and covered with coat Of
thick nut brown hair that harmonized
with the reddish beard that flowed over
his broad chest as that of a post tertiary
PETER.
His heavy name of weather beaten
locks had never felt hat.
About his loins from one shoulder
was draped the skin of cave lion.
A ponderous mace of flint dashed by
leather thongs to the handle lay at his
feet.
Chug, who derived his name from
the sound Of the mighty blow with
which he smote to death the cave lion
whose hide he wore, was not thinking
Of the pterodaotyl from which he mar
rowly escaped the night before.
Nor did he notice the cyclopean croc-
odiles in the sea.
His thoughts were sad and roamed
afar
At distance, too great for his com.
putation, he had been born amid a little
clan of post tertiarians.
A strange impulse, such as his broth
ers and sisters had never known, came
over him.
The monosyllable conversation Of his
kin made him tired. Chug was won't to
Irvine wild flowers in his hair and wear
sandals Of woolly hippopotamus hide
"Spat- Spat," a young woman who
could skin an Irish elk quicker than
any woman of the clan and who scorned
the luxury of sandals or robes Of hide,
one day pointed her reeking finger at
Chug as she paused in her work and
cried contemptuously, "Dude, dude!"
"You didn't say dude when l saved
you from the claws of the ichthyosau-
rusl' retorted Chug and passed on.
Thus Chug gathered up his weapons
and went forth alone and wandered
from his own fireside.
Long he had pondered over the mys.
terry Of life.
He had repeated in his sleep the re-
frain, "There are others"
If his clan existed, he argued, why
not other clans somewhere?
Was it not possible that in their soci-
ETY. he could lose that tired feeling
which had SO oppressed him?
But moons had come and waned, he
had traversed unknown leagues of mo-
rass and forest, crossed the tide Of rush
ing rivers, and still nothing but packs
Of great hyenas, trumpeting mammoths,
giant graminivorous and oarnivorous
mammalia and monstrous reptiles and
amphibia.
Man was nil, and woman existed not.
If Chug had lived nowadays, he
would have known what troubled his
breast.
He would have found love in the eyes
Of beauty and become happy.
Poor Chug did not understand love.
His soul yearned unconsciously.
His thoughts went back homeward.
It had not been quite SO bad there as
in this solitude.
He thought Of how he built house
for his mother Of the ribs Of horned
iguandon that in life was 70 feet long,
with legs thick as the fluted columns Of
q Corinthian temple.
He recalled how he used to arise early
and build the fire, and how he once had
mashed his finger while ohopping kin
ding with the old stone ak.
An idea came to him as he stood there
looking across the great sea.
Why not float upon its bosom on a
raft and mayhap come upon another
people2
Chug worked with feverish fervor,
and in two days was launched upon his
hazardous journey.
But, alas, as he was putting to shore
few days thereafter, an air breathing,
cold blooded pleiosaurus, which was
hidden in the reeds, suddenly shot it's
horrible head at him, its long, flexible
neck seeming like ,nonstrous serpent
Chug pushed away madly, tore him.
self loose from the jagged jaws, but
tainted across his raft, and the tawny
waters bore it out to sea, the rude fu-
neral car Of post tertiary hero.
For days the apparently dead voyager
Aoated.
His system stood the strain, and the
spark Of life remained due to the fash.
ion Of the time Of eating but once a
week or So
Chug had dined the day prior to his
misadventure.
Old Chief Tushe-tushe Of the fisher
men at the mouth Of the river, now
known as the Arkansas, intercepted the
raft and found Chug.
After due consideration among the
tribe it was decided to put him to death.
The Tushe.tushes bad dwelt by the
sea many generations, and the legends
rave their origin as the children Of 3