Pennant hunting

When our distant ancestors were skulking about in caves, I suspect there were only two seasons: hunting season and hungry season. When the snow was piled up against the cave opening and when every animal with a reasonable survival instinct had gone into hibernation, I expect that our cave dwelling fore-fathers and mothers huddled around whatever fire they could muster and told stories about the warm days when sustenance was plentiful, and the clan could sit outside with full bellies, playing games with the young ones.

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