This week with Times 7:
...There was no doubt about where the dinosaurs had been; as he neared, the place looked as if a tank had run amuck. There were small uprooted and half-eaten trees scattered about, with gigantic footprints everywhere. In some of the softer soil near a stream, the prints were knee-deep. The “bison” had also fed here, and he picked some of their long hair out of a tangle of brush and briers. I don’t know what I’ll use it for, but I’m not going to pass this up.
Much later, as he wearily made his way back up the steep trail just before nightfall, his pockets stuffed with long coarse hair, he felt as if his scouting trip had been a success. His mood was abruptly dampened, however, when he entered the cave to find everything scattered about and all his meat gone. His glue pot was overturned, and two of his arrow blanks were broken. Apparently, he had been gone too long, and his fire had gone out, or else the animal that had been here just wasn’t that intimidated by fire.
Depressed, he hastily restarted his fire and stacked wood across the entrance. Apparently, the animal hadn’t liked his vegetables, and he still had a few left. As he bent over to pick them up, he could feel chills start down his spine. Now I know what has been in here. There was a clear print in the dust that left no doubt that the track belonged to one of the great cats. Did my scouting trip just save my life?...
Have a goodun;
Roust