Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. It had been dripping since the BIG fire lit up in the sky today. Cautiously leaning out of the cave, Ogma moved his finger in the puddle, smearing mud. A loud rumble made him shudder and retreat deep into his dwelling. His heart pounded wildly, and Ogma looked up at where BIG blue worms had crawled across the sky recently. They usually moved so fast that he could barely make them out. Ogma – he was a strong warrior. Even more than a warrior. Ogma was the chief. Ogma wasn’t afraid of anyone. Almost no one, except He-Who-Looks-From-The-Sky.
He-Who-Looks-From-The-Sky was not afraid of Ogma. Sometimes he made a terrible clatter as if he was hitting the ground with a huge club. Sometimes he urinated over the whole forest and right on the heads of all its inhabitants. When he did so, Ogma hid from him in his cave and waited there until He-Who-Looks-From-The-Sky went away. Ogma occasionally offered up his prey in order to appease Him, and then he left because he didn’t want to hinder His meal. However, He ignored offerings sometimes, and beetles and vultures ate them.
At first, Ogma tried to fight Him — to shout down this heavenly roar, but he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried. Ogma hit the ground with a spear, waved his club, calling for a fight, but He never appeared. Then Ogma wanted to shoot Him with a bow or to throw stones, mud and sticks, but the arrows and sticks just fell on Ogma’s head, not reaching the sky. Realizing that he couldn’t kill Him, Ogma reluctantly acquired new respect for Him.
But Ogma was not afraid of anybody else. He could kill them.
Ogma was born in a tribe. A BIG tribe! Really, why should anyone be born in a small family when there is such a BIG kindred?
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