Amy G.'s Web Page
The Cave Painter
- a story of early man
by Amy G.
It was a dark stormy night, as I watched the painter paint on the walls of the cave.
I was a fourteen year old girl named Acola who wanted to be a cave painter. Even if I was a woman which I was probly too busy with scraping hide, sewing cloth, making meals, getting firewood, ect. I could still dream.
I watched the old man paint; he was painting a horse with belongings and people on them. When I asked him what he was painting about, he gave me a look of astonishment and said, “Acura, nobody told you. We’re the whole band, I mean we’re migrating to a different land.
Oh no weeeeee can’t. As fast as I could go I ran to my familys cave. We can’t migrate I busted out!
My mother said we had to because food was scarce. My little sibling Anpaco said, “What’s wrong with migrating? It’s leaving behind the paintings.” No I won’t go!
How did I get myself into this? After migrating & migrating we finally reached a plentiful place to live.
While we were migrating I painted on stones, walls & got alot better.
2 YEARS LATER!
Today the great Cave Painter is going to test me on my painting. I’m really excited. After he looked at my work he said you’ll make a great cave painter.