A tribe was foraging through the jungle...
A tribe was foraging through the jungle. One day their travels for the finest fruits led them high into an unchartered mountain range. At these new heights, they tasted some of the best food they had ever encountered. And they sang and danced together around the campfire every night to celebrate their discovery.
A few days later, one of the young girls in the tribe was walking along the rocky cliffs and fell into a large hole. She fell far, but was unhurt. Her father, who was walking behind her, ran to the edge of the opening, but the rocks gave way and he fell in too. The tribe all gathered around the hole, shouting to those who fell. They were in distress because the large cave that surrounded them was dark and cold. So the tribe began a rescue attempt. But it failed. And two more people fell in the hole. The next rescue also failed, and more fell. And eventually, in their zeal to free the fallen, all had fallen.
The cave was deep and long, and had only one opening- the hole they had fallen in, high above the rock wall. The people began to worry. The children squirmed. The women cried. The men held a council. They decided that the only way out of the cave was to climb.
So they began. The whole tribe agreed to devote themselves to climbing out to their freedom. They began to work diligently, but the tribe had never climbed before. They had always been foragers in the flat forests of the world. So they started small. Toughening the feet. Walking on sharp rock. It hurt. Cuts. Then callouses. Strengthening the fingers for gripping small places. Raw fingers. Then callouses formed. Building up the arms so they could endure the climb. The men worked night and day at training so they could climb out and free the tribe. Meanwhile, the women began to make fires and collect the scraps of food and rodents and a few green plants that grew in the tomb of the mountain.
They practiced for days... and weeks. The women built shelters. No one could make it to the top. They trained harder. They practiced for weeks and months. Some of the old men died-the leaders of the council. No one could yet make it to the top. They trained for months and years. New babies were born and half-grown... all they'd known was the cave. The opening had begun to be covered with leaves and fallen branches, and the light hardly shined into the cave anymore. No one could make it to the top.
After many years, one of the council leaders declared that the man who could make it out of the cave first would be the chief of the tribe, and his family after him. So the men began training with renewed vigor. They held competitions and made sport of the climbing. They developed make-shift equipment to aid their ascent up the rock wall. They grew closer. More died. More were born. Huts in the cave were fixed up into houses. Rats and mice were always on the menu. Moss was a delicacy. Clean water was forgotten. No one remembered the taste of fruit. And the men and boys climbed.
They climbed so much, and held so many competitions, that the winners became famous and respected among the tribe. They held regular tournaments to see who could climb the highest. The boys would prepare hard. The winner would be a celebrity, and the young boys would admire him. They climbed and cheered and climbed and cheered. Ate and talked. Slept in their dark houses.
One day, during the climbing competition, a young man was nearing the top of the cliff. The tribe was silent, amazed at his ability. No one had ever climbed so high. When he reached the top, the people cheered! But the young man did not pay any attention to their cheering. He noticed something at the top. Branches. Dead leaves. He began to pull away the debris until he revealed the hole. He cleared the entry way, and the sun burst into the cave. The people were blinded by the brightness, and yelled at the young man to close the opening. It was hurting their eyes. But he kept making the hole bigger. The old men searched deep in their memories to the place of their childhood. They had seen the hole before, like the ghost of their ancestors. But they did not understand its meaning. They had forgotten its place. The people began screaming at the curious young man to come down, but he would not listen. They threw rocks at him until he lost his grip and fell back down into the cave.
The boy was not injured. The people were silent. The children were unsure. The women began to prepare lunch. The men held a council. And they warned the boy against doing such a foolish thing in the future. He could have gotten hurt, or blinded the entire tribe.
And no one was able to reach the top.
