We walked across the valley together, but as we began traversing the field of tall grass, Paul and I started to separate from the pack of humans. Without saying a word, we both felt instinctively that being bunched up and near each other was a dangerous thing.

We all continued toward an outcropping of trees in the distance, maybe two hundred yards away. Our journey had taken us from our village through two valleys as we avoided other villages on the way. It was said, once we passed the field of tall grass, we would reach the river and then the hills of sand before we would be safe.

According to the stories, once we crossed the river, we would be safe, but no one ever returned from the hills of sand to be sure. Still, we had all decided to make the journey together.

Paul held my left hand as we walked parallel to the group. We had already been walking for five days. Our water supplies were running low and our food ran out two days ago. A few of us at the bugs we could find. Paul had roasted some worms on the fire the night before, but most of the group refused to eat them.

We approached the trees with caution, but hunger has a way of taking over your rational thoughts. Paul and I were close to fifty yards to the right of the group as they instinctively headed toward the trees. He and I were hungry, but we had food, albeit worms and crickets and the like, so were not as hungry as many of the others.

The trees had ripe, luscious, tantalizing peaches. It was understandable why the other humans wanted to run up to the trees, pluck a juicy peach from its branches, and eat it. Paul and I took several steps toward the trees. I don’t normally eat the fruit, but it was fresh and nutritious. After walking a few yards, we stopped.

I began to yell at the others, chastising them for stealing the fruit.

“It’s fresh and tasty,” someone yelled.

“Oh come on,” someone else hollered. “It’s not like they belong to anyone else.”

“Are you sure?” I yelled back. “Look at their size. Someone cultivated these fruit.”

Even at a distance, I could tell these peaches were larger than what would grow naturally on a tree. We had crawled over, under, and through several fence lines on our journey here. Surely, someone owned the land, and peaches don’t grow that big without some help.

“Fruit?” Someone said. “Peaches aren’t fruit.”

“Yes, they are,” I said.

“I think you are mistaken,” an older lady said. “I’ve been around for a long time and no one has ever called these fruit before. They just call them peaches.”

“Peaches are a type of fruit,” I said. I couldn’t believe I was arguing with these people over stolen peaches. “We need to keep moving.”

“Are you questioning the elders?” a man about my age asked.

“Yes, I am. Peaches are fruit,” I said. “Now, let’s keep moving. We can argue later.”

The group ignored me and continued to grab more peaches. Everyone had a small bundle or homemade bag they had brought with them for the journey in addition to a cowskin flask for water. They were filling the bags with peaches.

Paul and I started to walk away and toward the other end of the field of tall grass. After about 25 yards of walking, we stopped and started to look around. A distant thunder was coming toward us.

“Horses,” Paul said. He said it louder to get the group’s attention, but we were almost out of ear shot. A few people looked around, just in time to see the apes riding at them on horseback.

Paul and I dropped to the ground. I could feel the thunderous steps of the horses as they encircled the humans. At least I believe they encircled the humans. I had seen a capture like this many times before. I had even been in one. I wasn’t going to stand up and watch this time.

The culling took longer than I had expected. I suspect the tall grass aided in the delay. The humans were most likely placed into a cart made out to be a portable prison. Paul and I remained motionless on the ground. We waited for some time after the ground stopped shaking before we rose. Even then, we did so hesitantly.

No one was left. Paul and I ran as fast as we could toward the peach trees to see if anyone had indeed managed to escape. When we arrived, several bundles and bags were on the ground. Smashed peaches were scattered around.

We checked the tamped down trails through the grass for indications of someone escaping. There weren’t any. Paul and I picked up a couple of the larger bags and extra flasks. If the stories were right, we would need at least two days water to make it through the hills of sand.

We grabbed all the unsmashed peaches off the ground, a few bags, and placed them in a large bundle before continuing toward the far end of the field of tall grass. A half day’s walk from there should get us to the river. At least that’s what the stories said.

The humans we were with were likely taken back to Ape City. There, they would be sold off as slaves. We thought for a moment of returning and trying to free the humans, but we knew this would be impossible. We also knew they would not have returned to save us.

Everyone knew the risks when we began the journey. As much as we would have liked to have returned and saved them, it was an impossible task. I sighed heavily, knowing that most would be saved and a few would be killed as an example to other humans who try to leave.

The apes allow a few human settlements of the humans they think can be trusted. In those settlements we grow the crops and tend to the animals that will be eaten later. Examples would have to be made. The rest would endure servitude in Ape City, chained for most of the day as they performed a variety of slave duties where the apes could watch their every move.

As we passed the last peach tree, I reached up, pulled a peach from the tree and reluctantly began to eat it. I would rather be eating fried worms, but peaches are sustenance and I would need it if I was ever going to complete my journey.

We continued walking to the end of the field of tall grass. It was another day’s journey before we made it. The sun was hot during midday and there was no shade. It made us want to drink more water. Instead, the large bundle we had taken served as another useful tool in our journey. It was nothing more than a large sheet of cloth, which once covered the entrance to someone’s home, tied around a stick to make it easier to carry.

Paul and I took the bundle apart and placed what peaches were left into the bags we had also picked up. With his knife made from cattle bone, he tore the cloth in two. We then helped each other tie it around our heads and neck to try and keep the sun from burning us.

We were nearly out of water, even with the extra flasks we had taken the day before. We looked around, but did not immediately see any water. So we sat down, cleared our minds, and listened. The stories told us that you could hear the river from a distance. We thought we saw the hills of sand in the distance, but it was too far away at this point to be sure. So we listened for the river to tell us where it was located.

After waiting for a while, Paul and I decided the river was not going to talk to us today. We recounted the stories we had heard over the years. The field of grass would not be as lush and dark green without a water source.

We has passed through the field of tall grass. We were now in short grass. It, too, was green, and must have water from somewhere. We decided the best course of action would be to keep walking straight and keep an eye out for other signs that water must be near.

After another half-day’s journey, we reached the river. The water was moving, a good sign that we could drink the water and not get sick, though we couldn’t be sure. We took the chance to drink the water after concluding that water this far removed from civilization – ape or human – meant there was a good chance it was safe.

After getting our fill, Paul and I used the stick from the bundle to see how deep the river was. It was almost as deep as I was tall. The best course of action was to strip to as little clothes as possible and cross the river with all our belongings above our heads.

Each step was carefully measured before we proceeded across the river. If we had a canoe, it would have taken a few minutes. Our journey took nearly thirty, but we made it across safely.

After redressing and resorting our bags, Paul and I filled our flasks and dunked our cloths in the river before continuing. We hoped the wet cloth would keep us cool just a little while longer.

On the other side of the river was a grassy hill that took another thirty minutes reach and the rest of the day to climb. Once at the top, we could see the hills of sand that stretched in all directions. We climbed down into a dry ravine. There was some shade here and the day was getting late.

We had made it. We settled in to sleep under the stars. On the other side of the hills of sand was said to be an ocean and a land of humans where no ape had ever been.

We would finish that journey tomorrow. Tonight, the warm breeze and the darkness would soothe our aching souls until morning.