A warm breeze swept across the tall reeds that grew along the great river. Kavi, a skilled fisher of the Moon Clan, stood barefoot on a flat rock, watching the water flow. His clan depended on fish, shellfish, and fresh water from this river. But the river also belonged to another creature—one far more dangerous than any fish.
Crocodiles.
Long, silent, and deadly, these giant reptiles had lived on Earth since long before humans. Their eyes peeked just above the water, and their jaws were powerful enough to crush stone tools. The clan always kept a safe distance from the deeper waters, but today, Kavi had to cross the river to gather special healing plants for the clan’s healer.
Kavi carried a simple raft made of bound logs. He pushed it into the water and climbed on. The current was calm, but the water was murky. Every splash made him tense. He paddled slowly, scanning the surface.
Halfway across, he saw it—a pair of glowing yellow eyes watching him from the water.
A crocodile.
Kavi held his breath. The reptile moved closer, its long tail swaying gently beneath the surface. He knew crocodiles could move faster than any human on land or water. The raft would not protect him for long.
He reached for the fishing spear tied to the raft. But he remembered what the elders had told him: “Do not strike unless you must. The river gives life—but it demands respect.”
The crocodile came closer. Its head rose slightly from the water, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Kavi needed to stay calm.
He dipped his paddle gently into the water and splashed lightly to one side. The crocodile turned its head toward the sound. Then, with a sudden movement, Kavi splashed on the opposite side. Confused, the reptile paused.
Kavi repeated the pattern—splash left, splash right, then paddle straight ahead. The crocodile hesitated, unsure where the threat was coming from. Slowly, the distance between them grew.
But the crocodile was not giving up. It followed again, faster this time.
Kavi’s raft reached the shallow edge of the opposite bank. He jumped off and pulled it ashore. The crocodile lunged, its jaws snapping shut only a meter away—just missing him.
Kavi stumbled backward, falling into the grass. The crocodile tried to follow, but the shallow water slowed it. Eventually, it turned away, sinking back into the depths of the river.
Kavi let out a long breath. He had survived.
After gathering the healing plants, he returned to the river at a safer, narrower crossing. He looked across the water and whispered, “Thank you. I will respect your home.”
When he returned to the clan, Kavi shared his story. The elders nodded. The children listened with wide eyes. And everyone learned an important truth: in the Stone Age, survival was not only about strength—it was about understanding the world and the creatures that shared it.
