Free The Boy of the Painted Cave by Justin Denzel Page B

beasts, hoping he would not find Ram trampled in the dust. He had not gone far when he saw the wolf dog loping toward him through the meadow, his sides heaving, his tongue hanging. He was wet, his gray coat caked with mud. Tao threw his arms around the animal’s neck, burying his face in the wet fur. “You are brave, Ram,” he said, “but you are foolish. The mammoths are not rabbits. They are dangerous.”
    Ram’s eyes were bright and he was panting heavily from his wild run.
    â€œThis time I was lucky,” said Tao. “You saved my life. Never again will I let you chase the mountains-that-walk.”

ELEVEN
    T ao’s cuts and bruises were painful but not serious. Kala gave him plantain leaves and a poultice made of earth apple to put on his wounds. She also gave him a sackful of chestnuts to boost his spirits.
    Tao smiled at her. “It has been a long time since I have had one of these.”
    Kala shook her old gray head. “If you go on chasing the mammoths, you will not live long enough to eat them.”
    Summer came and a bright sun filled the valley with its warm glow. Tao watched the golden eagles soaring on the warm updrafts, their sharp eyes searching for rabbits and marmots. The antelopes now shared the valley with herds of small, shaggy ponies or tarpans not much bigger than a wolf dog.
    One afternoon as Tao was coming back from the Slough with Ram, he looked up to see a rainbow of colors rippling across the white cliffs. Splashes of yellow gave way to blues, then purple, as the sun moved in and out of the clouds.
    Then, suddenly, he saw a bright flash of white light come from the top of the limestone cliff. For a moment it danced and flickered in the sunshine. Tao shook his head, puzzled, wondering what would make such a strange light. A moment later he saw it again. It sparkled and shone like a star, beckoning him.
    He walked across the open field, and each time he saw it he stopped and tried to think where he had seen that light before. When he reached the foot of the cliffs, he stood quietly watching it as it flashed on and off in the sunlight. Then, all at once, it came back to him and he knew what it was. It was the shining stone.
    A broad smile crossed his face. He forgot about everything else and started to run. “Come, Ram,” he shouted, pointing to the top of the cliffs. “It is our good friend Graybeard. He is making his magic.”
    Halfway up the cliff, Tao stopped at his little cave. There he tied his spear over his shoulder with a leather thong. He picked up the bag of chestnuts and tucked it under his belt. Then he started to climb as Ram followed. They went up a narrow, winding ledge, picking their way over jumbles of loose rock and stones.
    Soon the path became steeper. Tao reached out, grasping the stunted pine shrubs that grew from the crevices along the rock wall. He stepped on jutting rocks and his fingers felt for cracks and crannies to pull himself up.
    Ram was a good climber, but at some places his paws slipped and scraped on the uneven surface. Once Tao helped him around an overhang, and twice he had to pull him up by the scruff of the neck. Frequently they stopped to rest and, little by little, they made their way up the steep limestone wall.
    As they came closer, Tao saw Graybeard’s wrinkled face looking down over the edge of the cliff. He wondered how the old man had made such a difficult climb.
    Breathing hard, Tao pushed Ram over the top, then pulled himself up the rest of the way. Graybeard reached down with a bony hand and helped the boy to his feet. He was smiling broadly. “You saw the light from far off and you knew it was the shining stone?”
    â€œYes,” said Tao, glancing into the old man’s blue eyes. “Your magic is good. But it is a hard climb even for a boy.”
    â€œThat is why I chose this place,” said Graybeard. “But there is an easier way. I will show you later.” He led