The very nature of the savage’s universe is thought to depend on the respecting of taboo. These things, too, are internalized in so deep a manner that you can scarcely conceive of their force in the savage mind. Taboo is a very serious matter, a terribly serious matter. Its violation need not even be intentional to be culpable. Twice, on different worlds, I have seen taboos inadvertently broken, broken quite by accident, in one case by the inadvertent touching of a tabooed object, it was the lost comb of a sacred king, not recognized as such when it was picked up, in the other case it was in accidentally having the shadow of a tabooed person, a fratricide, fall upon one’s body. In the first case the fellow died within instants of discovering what he had done, in the other case he died within hours.”
“Of what did they die?” asked Brenner.
“I would suppose,” said Rodriguez, “of fear.”
“Then they did not die from violating the taboo, but from the fear that was associated with the violation.”
“I mention it to convey to you, to some extent, the power of the internalization of the taboo, and how seriously it is taken by primitive peoples,” said Rodriguez.
“These two,” said Brenner, indicating the Pons, “broke the taboo. They have not died of fear. The female is healthy, and happy. The male is recovering.”
The female, at this point, had cradled the male’s head in the crook of her arm, and was holding a saucer of water to his lips.
“They probably prepared themselves for months for the breaking of the taboo,” said Rodriguez. “Their violation of the taboo was doubtless intentional, premeditated.”
“I see,” said Brenner.
“You understand then, too, of course,” said Rodriguez, “that that makes the violation seem far more culpable, and heinous, and threatening, to the group than it might otherwise?”
“I suppose so,” said Brenner.
“They are courageous little things,” said Rodriguez.
“Is that why you joined me in taking their part?” asked Brenner.
“Perhaps,” said Rodriguez.
“But they are only monkeys,” said Brenner.
“Brave monkeys,” said Rodriguez, with a smile.
“You are all unregenerate iconoclasts,” said Brenner.
“You are the one, with the neat trick at the git cage, who disproved their totemism,” said Rodriguez.
At this point the female had put down the saucer of water. The male turned his head weakly toward Brenner, and put out its hand.
Brenner rose up and went to crouch beside it.
“Watch out,” cautioned Rodriguez.
The male looked up at Brenner, and then reached out, and pinched at his arm.
“That is a grooming gesture,” said Rodriguez, “probably forbidden for a thousand years.”
Brenner then put out his hand and took some of the hair of the Pon’s arm between his thumb and forefinger, and pulled gently at it.
The female made a soft, contented noise.
“He is grateful,” said Rodriguez.
“I think he is asleep now, again,” said Brenner.
“Let him rest,” said Rodriguez.
“Listen!” said Brenner.
“What is it?” asked Rodriguez.
“Pons!” said Brenner. “The sound is coming from the fields!”
Rodriguez leaped up and hurried from the hut, running toward the gate of the palisade. Brenner was only a few feet behind him.
Pons, terrified, were streaming through the gate. Some stopped inside the palings and looked out, back, frightened, toward the clearing.
“What is wrong!” demanded Rodriguez.
“Killer!” screeched a Pon. “Killer!”
More Pons fled past, their eyes wild, their tiny feet scattering dust behind them.
“What happened!” screamed Rodriguez, grabbing at a Pon, missing him.
“Back there!” cried another Pon.
“Where?” asked Rodriguez, trying to get his hand on another Pon hurrying past.
“Field! Field! Came! Took!” cried another.
Several of the Pons, together, began to swing shut the gate. Rodriguez held it forcibly open, to let another four or five Pons squeeze through.
“Shut! Shut!” screamed Pons.
“There are still others outside!” said Rodriguez.
More Pons, tiny, across the clearing, could be seen hurrying toward the gate.
One of the Pons suddenly, fiercely, for so small an animal, bared its teeth and held up its tiny hands, the fingers hooked, like claws. It made a sudden, ugly sound, which, even in its tiny throat, was frightening.
The gate swung shut, creaking.
Rodriguez’ face was covered with sweat. There was much howling now, from both males and females, in the village.
Brenner looked wildly at Rodriguez.
“It could not be worse!” said Rodriguez. He kicked aside some of the posts braced against the gate, opening it a few inches to let another Pon through. “Go to the