THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS.
It was with scant breath, when they reached their respective caves, that
the boys told the story of the dread which had invaded the marsh-land.
What they reported was no light event and, the next morning, their
fathers were with them in the treetop at the safe distance which the
wooded crest afforded and watching with apprehensive eyes the movements
of the monster settled in the rugged valley tree. There was slight
movement to note. Coiled easily around the bole, just above where the
branches began, and resting a portion of its body upon a thick, extending
limb, its head and perhaps ten or fifteen feet of its length swinging
downward, the great serpent still hung awaiting its prey, ready to launch
itself upon any hapless victim which might come within its reach. That
its appetite would soon be gratified admitted of little doubt. Profiting
by the absence of the boys, who while at work made no effort to conceal
themselves, groups of wild horses were already feeding in the lowlands,
and the elk and wild ox were visible here and there. The group in the
treetop on the crest realized that it had business on hand. The
sea-serpent was a terror to the cave people, and when one appeared to
haunt the river the word was swiftly spread, and they gathered to
accomplish its end if possible. With warnings to the boys they left
behind them, the fathers sped away in different directions, one up, the
other down, the river's bank, Stripe-Face to seek the help of some of the
cave people and One-Ear to arouse the Shell people, as they were called,
whose home was beside a creek some miles below. Into the home of the
little colony One-Ear went swinging a little later, demanding to see the
head man of the fishing village, and there ensued an earnest conversation
of short sentences, but one which caused immediate commotion. To the hill
dwellers the rare advent of a sea-serpent was comparatively a small
matter, but it was a serious thing to the Shell folk. The sea-serpent
might come up the creek and be among them at any moment, ravaging their
community. The Shell people were grateful for the warning, but there were
few of them at home, and less than a dozen could be mustered to go with
One-Ear to the rendezvous.
They were too late, the hardy people who came up to assail the serpent,
because the serpent had not waited for them. The two boys roosting in the
treetop on the height had beheld what was not pleasant to look upon, for
they had seen a yearling of the aurochs enveloped by the thing, which
whipped down suddenly from the branches, and the crushed quadruped had
been swallowed in the serpent's way. But the dinner which might suffice
it for weeks had not, in all entirety, the effect upon it which would
follow the swallowing of a wild deer by its degenerate descendants of the
Amazonian or Indian forests.
The serpent did not lie a listless mass, helplessly digesting the product
of the tragedy upon the spot of its occurrence, but crawled away slowly
through the reeds, and instinctively to the water, into which it slid
with scarce a splash, and then went drifting lazily away upon the current
toward the sea. It had been years since one of these big water serpents
had invaded the river at such a distance from its mouth and never came
another up so far. There were causes promoting rapidly the extinction of
their dreadful kind.
Three or four days were required before Ab and Oak realized, after what
had taken place, that there were in the community any more important
personages than they, and that they had work before them, if they were to
continue in their glorious career. When everyday matters finally asserted
themselves, there was their pit not yet completed. Because of their
absence, a greater aggregation of beasts was feeding in the little
valley. Not only the aurochs, the ancient bison, the urus, the progenitor
of the horned cattle of to-day, wild horse and great elk and reindeer
were seen within short distances from each other, but the big, hairy
rhinoceros of the time was crossing the valley again and rioting in its
herbage or wallowing in the pools where the valley dipped downward to the
marsh. The mammoth with its young had swung clumsily across the area of
rich feed, and, lurking in its train, eyeing hungrily and bloodthirstily
the mammoth's calf, had crept the great cave tiger. The monster cave bear
had shambled through the high grass, seeking some small food in default
of that which might follow the conquest of a beast of size. The uncomely
hyenas had gone slinking here and there and had found something worthy
their foul appetite. All this change had come because the two boys, being
boys and full of importance, had neglected their undertaking for about a
week and had talked each in his own home with an air intended to be
imposing, and had met each other with much dignity of bearing, at their
favorite perching-place in the treetop on the hillside. When there came
to them finally a consciousness that, to remain people of magnitude in
the world, they must continue to do something, they went to work bravely.
The change which had come upon the valley in their brief absence tended
to increase their confidence, for, as thus exhibited, early as was the
age, the advent of the human being, young or old, somehow affected all
animate nature and terrified it, and the boys saw this. Not that the
great beasts did not prey upon man, but then, as now, the man to the
great beast was something of a terror, and man, weak as he was, knew
himself and recognized himself as the head of all creation. The mammoth,
the huge, thick-coated rhinoceros, sabre-tooth, the monstrous tiger, or
the bear, or the hyena, or the loping wolf, or short-bodied and vicious
wolverine were to him, even then, but lower creatures. Man felt himself
the master of the world, and his children inherited the perception.
Work in the pit progressed now rapidly and not a great number of days
passed before it had attained the depth required. The boy at work was
compelled, when emerging, to climb a dried branch which rested against
the pit's edge, and the lookout in the tree exercised an extra caution,
since his comrade below could no longer attain safety in a moment. But
the work was done at last, that is, the work of digging, and there
remained but the completion of the pitfall, a delicate though not a
difficult matter. Across the pit, and very close together, were laid
criss-crosses of slender branches, brought in armfuls from the forest;
over these dry grass was spread, thinly but evenly, and over this again
dust and dirt and more grass and twigs, all precautions being observed to
give the place a natural appearance. In this the boys succeeded very
well. Shrewd must have been the animal of any sort which could detect the
trap. Their chief work done, the boys must now wait wisely. The place was
deserted again and no nearer approach was made to the pitfall than the
treetops of the hillside. There the boys were to be found every day,
eager and anxious and hopeful as boys are generally. There was not
occasion for getting closer to the trap, for, from their distant perch,
its surface was distinctly visible and they could distinguish if it had
been broken in. Those were days of suppressed excitement for the two;
they could see the buffalo and wild horses moving here and there, but
fortune was still perverse and the trap was not approached. Before its
occupation by them, the place where they had dug had appeared the
favorite feeding-place; now, with all perversity, the wild horses and
other animals grazed elsewhere, and the boys began to fear that they had
left some traces of their work which revealed it to the wily beasts. On
one day, for an hour or two, their hearts were in their mouths. There
issued from the forest to the westward the stately Irish elk. It moved
forward across the valley to the waters on the other side, and, after
drinking its fill, began feeding directly toward the tree clump. It
reached the immediate vicinity of the pitfall and stood beneath the
trees, fairly outlined against the opening beyond, and affording
to the almost breathless couple a splendid spectacle. A magnificent
creature was the great elk of the time of the cave men, the Irish elk, as
those who study the past have named it, because its bones have been found
so frequently in what are now the preserving peat bogs of Ireland. But
the elk passed beyond the sight of the watchers, and so their bright
hopes fell.
The crispness of full autumn had come, one morning, when Ab and Oak met
as usual and looked out across the valley to learn if anything had
happened in the vicinity of the pitfall. The hoar frost, lying heavily on
the herbage, made the valley resemble a sea of silver, checkered and
spotted all over darkly. These dark spots and lines were the traces of
such animals as had been in the valley during the night or toward early
morning. Leading everywhere were heavy trails and light ones, telling the
story of the night. But very little heed to these things was paid by the
ardent boys. They were too full of their own affairs. As they swung into
place together upon their favorite limb and looked across the valley,
they uttered a simultaneous and joyous shout. Something had taken place
at the pitfall!
All about the trap the surface of the ground was dark and the area of
darkness extended even to the little bank of the swamp on the riverside.
Careless of danger, the boys dropped to the ground and, spears in hand,
ran like deer toward the scene of their weeks of labor. Side by side they
bounded to the edge of the excavation, which now yawned open to the sky.
They had triumphed at last! As they saw what the pitfall held, they
yelled in unison, and danced wildly around the opening, in the very
height of boyish triumph. The exultation was fully justified, for the
pitfall held a young rhinoceros, a creature only a few months old, but so
huge already that it nearly filled the excavation. It was utterly
helpless in the position it occupied. It was wedged in, incapable of
moving more than slightly in any direction. Its long snout, with its
sprouting pair of horns, was almost level with the surface of the ground
and its small bright eyes leered wickedly at its noisy enemies. It
struggled clumsily upon their approach, but nothing could relieve the
hopelessness of its plight.
All about the pitfall the earth was plowed in furrows and beaten down by
the feet of some monstrous animal. Evidently the calf was in the company
of its mother when it fell a victim to the art of the pitfall diggers. It
was plain that the mother had spent most of the night about her young in
a vain effort to release it. Well did the cave boys understand the signs,
and, after their first wild outburst of joy over the capture, a sense of
the delicacy, not to say danger, of their situation came upon them. It
was not well to interfere with the family affairs of the rhinoceros.
Where had the mother gone? They looked about, but could see nothing to
justify their fears. Only for a moment, though, did their sense of safety
last; hardly had the echo of their shouting come back from the hillside
than there was a splashing and rasping of bushes in the swamp and the
rush of some huge animal toward the little ascent leading to the valley
proper. There needed no word from either boy; the frightened couple
bounded to the tree of refuge and had barely begun clambering up its
trunk than there rose to view, mad with rage and charging viciously, the
mother of the calf rhinoceros.