Once, Man left his village, walking North. He paddled across a large river so that he could hunt in the forest on the Northern shore in order to provide food for his family. Man was an excellent hunter, but he was young and careless. In those days, Moon had not yet completed her great works. It was dry and dusty on the Earth, and though the cedar and Douglas fir trees grew up tall, the water they drank lurked deep beneath the ground and so, once Man left the river, he grew thirsty. He stumbled upon a great cedar adjoined by a smaller yew. Nestled between their trunks, perfectly contained by a circular ridge of their combined roots, was a large puddle of clear water. Man knelt down on both knees, laying his simple stone spear beside him on the ground. He cupped his hands in the water and lifted them to his face, alert, watchful as he drank deep. Once, twice, three times he drank of the clear, cold water.
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