What Happened When Grog Was Struck by Lightning(Revised)
End of Day
Grog was a man who lived a long time ago in the past. It was the Chalcalithic or "Copper Stone" age, according to today's scientist. As Grog made his way across the primordial plains and out on the tundra land, the man could see the high mountains that lay ahead in the far distance. Grog began to grow weary, and stopped to take a drink from the pouch that he was carrying about his shoulder. He had been on this trip once before and he remembered that there was a lot of forested land just up ahead. Here would be plenty of wild game and the bow and straight arrows that he carried in his pouch would be handy to have. As he reached the first of the tall trees at the edge of the thick forest, the wind blew his long brown strands of hair about, and the man could feel the tension in the air that was sensed just before a thunder storm.
A heavily clouded and darkening sky signaled to Grog that he would soon be in for a big storm. He tried to hurry his footsteps in moving through the pine needled floor there among the towering green trees, abundant through out the wooded area. With the clap of thunder, a bright light enveloped the tree near Grog's side, and the man was thrown to the ground and knocked unconscious. As he awakened from what seemed like a deep sleep, Grog suddenly realized that something was not quite right.
Grog was use to communicating with a series of grunts and gestures that most others in his clan well knew about. It was their way of talking back then and the usual sounds made were a series of ugh,ugh's and agh,agh's, and aiieee(when stung by large bumble bees in the area).Upon waking, Grog became aware that he was thinking in a new way. Everything about him was some how different. "My word", the surprised man blurted out, "I do think that I have been struck by a bolt from the blue, old chap!" "All that I wanted to do was to visit the local pub and get a nip of the bubbly, what, and perchance a portion of that excellent fish and chips that they are so famous far in their gastronomical reputations."Well old bean, it looks as if the tables have turned and we are out in the wilds of Sherwood Forest." Suddenly a loud trumpeting was heard and a huge beast came charging through the trees and brush up ahead. It was the dangerous Woolly Mammoth and his tusks were aimed at Grog's head, as it charged toward the skin-clad hunter. Grog's instincts took over, as he dodged the big creature and jumped behind a broad tree. Grog's message for the wild beast was in perfect English, yet it was much too explicit and crude, for us to repeat it right now. "That monstrous beast was trying to decapitate me, I do believe",the hunter shouted. He then pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and placed it on the string of his strong bow. The arrow flew with great speed and accuracy, as it practically sheared off a third of the Mammoth's tail that bobbed about, and the massive terror crashed through the woods, breaking trees in its path. "I say, that was certainly a waste of a good copper arrow head," the man remarked, as he followed for a few yards on the pathway. The mammoth had felt enough pain and decided that it was a good idea for him to vacate the woods, at this point. Grog was a little shaky and decided to sit under a tree and eat some of the fish from his food pouch. "My word, this is just not the fine quality of the pub, and I do so miss my chips and a mug of my fresh ale,"the weary traveler grunted, as he leaned back on the tree's big trunk for a nap.
As Grog rested there, he fell into a deep sleep and began to have many unusual dreams. There he was standing before a large wooden structure and he was wearing a tall black hat. "Four score and seven hours ago, I was struck by a bolt of lightning, and let not any man ask what he can do for himself, but what he can do for his clansmen", he was saying in his special speech, there in his odd dream. "I will never give up, no never give in to that beast that has tried to trample me for more than a decade", he rattled on. Suddenly in his dream. Grog was riding a strange beast that had long hair about its neck. He was wearing a funny hat and yelling for his men to follow him over the hills of a place called San Juan. "Ride my boys, ride as if your lives depended upon it, to the top of the hill and we shall capture their flag,"he shouted, as he rode upon the back of the fast moving animal. Suddenly, Grog was aboard a strange wooden vessel in the middle of the big waters of a lake that had no horizon. Loud blasts were heard and strange red lights lit up the sky, as the big vessel rocked up and down in the enormous lake. Grog was wearing a large wide hat and bright buttons covered his chest. He was shouting to men that were running about and he stood up on a high wooden ramp and pointed toward a vessel that appeared near their own. It had tall wooden poles and smoke poured from open holes along its side. The noise of strange thunders roared from the holes and something shook the floor that they stood upon. Grog saw that his fellow clansmen needed help and he shouted plainly into the night,"Don't give up the ship now my lads, for we have only begun to fight!" In his dream, Grog was quickly moving into a place that he had never seen. As he looked up over the dark horizon, he saw a brightly lit blue ball. He was wearing a bulky white cloak and a big hat covered his head to his shoulders, and he had to move slowly. It felt as if he was in deep water and trying to move his feet. He began to move backwards going down a rigid walkway. As his foot landed upon the sandy floor beneath his feet, He heard himself say,"This is one small step for a clansman and one giant leap for Grog!" At this point, Grog awakened from his sleep and realized that a cold rain was falling, once again.
The loud crash of thunder echoed throughout the forest and Grog looked about for the shelter of some of the low evergreen trees nearby. He hurried to a big Spruce with wide branches and sat against the base of the tree. Some water managed to seep in upon Grog, but for the most part, he was protected by the green branches that drained away the torrent of rain that was coming down in wind blown sheets. Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light and the ground shook beneath the man, as he clung to the tree for security. Grog was awakened by a noisy bird that occupied a branch near his head. His ears still rung from the thunder and lightning and he shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts.
Grog managed to pick himself up from beneath the charred tree and gathered his bow and other belongings . He made a grunting sound, as he moved from beneath the tree and walked steadily away from the area that still smoldered from where the lightning had hit. "Agh.agh...Ugh,ugh," the man grunted, as he climbed over the low ridge that led upward toward the heights and into the bright sunlight. The sun felt good upon his skin and he felt, as though somehow, he would be secure in his journey. He would reach his destination of a big lake where there would be plenty of wild game, before the sun's light would leave the sky and all was well with the man from days gone by. The night to come would be left for more exciting dreams and a chance to get a rest from his weary travels. A big round yellow moon began to peek over the edge of the distant horizon, and somehow, Grog felt an unusual kinship with his old friend.