Shaking his head slightly, Henry Clark wrapped himself tighter in the animal skin coat, closed his eyes, and planned to sleep. Tomorrow, he still had to take this group of little kids out to fish.

However, not long after closing his eyes, Henry Clark seemed to “see” a fleeting shadow. The shadow was so fast that Henry Clark didn’t have time to see it clearly. After the shadow, pairs of eyes glowing with a faint dark blue light appeared.

What was that?!

Henry Clark jolted and suddenly opened his eyes.

Everything around him was the same as before. The cave was pitch black, with only a faint glow where the moonlight shone in.

Now, Henry Clark was completely unable to fall asleep. He turned over and happened to see the ventilation opening carved into the cave wall above.

Usually, even at night, the vent wouldn’t be blocked, and there wouldn’t be any trouble.

After thinking for a moment, Henry Clark got up. Since his sleeping spot was already higher up, he only needed to stand to see outside through the vent.

There was moonlight outside, making it even brighter than inside the cave, and he could vaguely make out the nearby scenery.

Outside the cave stood a stone pillar nearly five meters high. It had been erected here years ago, serving a purpose similar to a sundial. In the past, people living in the cave would judge the approximate time by the shadow cast by the pillar under the sun. Now, the people of the tribe had all left, but the children living in the cave would still scratch and carve on the pillar when they went out. With years of wind and sun, the pillar was no longer what it used to be—its surface was pitted and uneven, barely maintaining its general shape as it stood there.

And now, at the top of the pillar, stood a bird.

Henry Clark recognized that kind of bird. The first time he saw it, he thought it was a bat, but later learned it was a bird that looked a lot like a swallow, flew extremely fast, was only active at night, and, moreover, was carnivorous.

The tribe called them night swallows, which sounded a lot like the nickname for bats that Henry Clark knew. Unfortunately, they were much more ferocious than bats and liked to live in groups—sometimes moving in large flocks.

That’s why almost no one in the tribe would go out at night, and if they did, they had to carry a torch, or else they’d easily be attacked by the night swallows.

Ordinary people couldn’t hear the calls of these night swallows, but the tribe said that powerful warriors could actually hear them. It was said that the night swallow’s call was very piercing, but most people had never heard it—just a rumor passed down by word of mouth.

Just as Henry Clark looked at the stone pillar, the night swallow resting on it also sharply looked back at him.

In the moonlight, the night swallow’s eyes reflected a dark blue light, exactly like the image that had flashed through Henry Clark’s mind when he closed his eyes earlier.

Night swallows wouldn’t come into the cave through the vent. They liked to stand at a distance and observe, then, once they found a lone target, attack in a group. In the past six months, Henry Clark had never seen a night swallow enter the cave, but if anyone went out at night without a torch, they would definitely be attacked.

Letting out a gentle breath, Henry Clark stopped looking outside and lay down, planning to continue sleeping.

Now that he knew what the fleeting shadow and dark blue eyes in his mind had been, Henry Clark still couldn’t fall asleep right away.

Henry Clark felt as if he could “see” dangerous creatures nearby—like the fish from earlier in the day, or the bird now standing outside.

The next morning, the weather was clear and the sun was shining.

As usual, Henry Clark got up, bundled the dry grass he’d been sleeping on, and prepared to take it outside to dry.

Clapping his hands, Henry Clark said to the large group lying in the cave, “Are you awake? Whoever’s awake, get up and come with me to fish.”

No response.

“The fish we catch can be eaten, just like yesterday,” Henry Clark continued.

There was a little movement, but not much.

Some of the kids were still sleeping soundly, impossible to wake even with thunder, while others, even if awake, hesitated after hearing Henry Clark’s words. After all, habits formed over a long time couldn’t be changed by a single sentence from Henry Clark. They were used to sleeping at this time every day, waiting until the afternoon for food. Some, even with their eyes open, weren’t fully awake and went back to sleep after yawning.

In the end, out of more than twenty people, only four followed Henry Clark out. The two oldest in the cave were among them. The other two were called Samuel Ward—who was very timid, a waste of such a fierce-sounding name—and George Adams, a kid who stuttered a bit and was generally honest, except when it came to fighting for food. Both were eleven years old, but their builds were very different: George Adams was a head taller than Samuel Ward, looking about the same as the two oldest thirteen-year-olds in the cave, while Samuel Ward was thin and small, about the same size as Henry Clark.

Henry Clark had Julius Caesar dig up some stone bugs, used the grass rope from yesterday, took the black hemisphere that could float on water, and then led the four kids to the riverbank.

The guards on duty today were the same two warriors as yesterday. They hadn’t gone back last night and had to watch for three nights in a row before being replaced. When they saw Henry Clark, the two greeted him with a smile and exchanged a few words.