THE MAMMOTH AT BAY.
It was late autumn, and a light snow covered the ground, when one day a
cave man, panting for breath, came running down the river bank and paused
at the cave of One-Ear. He had news, great news! He told his story
hurriedly, and then was taken into the cave and given meat, while Ab,
seizing his weapons, fled downward further still toward the great
kitchen-midden of the Shell People. Just as ages and ages later, not far
from the same region, some Scottish runner carried the fiery cross, Ab ran
exultingly with the news it was his to bring. There must be an immediate
gathering, not only of the cave men, but of the Shell People as well, and
great mutual effort for great gain. The mammoths were near the point of
the upland!
The runner to the cave of One-Ear was a hunter living some miles to the
north, upon a ledge of a broad forest-covered plateau terminating on the
west in a slope which ended in a precipice with more than a hundred feet
of sheer descent to the valley below. On rare occasions a herd of mammoths
invaded the forest and worked itself toward the apex of the plateau, and
then word went all over the region, for it was an event in the history of
the cave men. If but a sufficient force could be suddenly assembled, food
in abundance for all was almost certainly assured. The prize was something
stupendous, but prompt action was required, and there might be tragedies.
As bees hum and gather when their hive is disturbed, so did the Shell
People when Ab burst in upon them and delivered his message. There was
rushing about and a gathering of weapons and a sorting out of men who
should go upon the expedition. But little time was wasted. Within half an
hour Ab was straining back again up the river toward his own abode, while
behind him trailed half a hundred of the Shell People, armed in a way
effective enough, but which, in the estimation of the cave men, was
preposterous. The spears of the Shell People had shafts of different wood
and heads of different material from those of the cave men, and they used
their weapons in a different manner. Accustomed to the spearing of fish or
of an occasional water beast, like a small hippopotamus, which still
existed in the rivers of the peninsula, they always threw their
spears--though the cave people were experts with this as well--and, as a
last resource in close conflict, they used no stone ax or mace, but simply
ran away, to throw again from a distance, or to fly again, as conditions
made advisable. But they were brave in a way--it was necessary that all
who would live must have a certain animal bravery in those days--and
their numbers made them essential in the rare hunting of the mammoth.
When the company reached the home of Ab they found already assembled there
a score of the hill men, and, as the word had gone out in every direction,
it was found, when the rendezvous was reached, which was the cave of
Hilltop, the man living near the crest of the plateau, and the one who had
made the first run down the river, that there were more than a hundred,
counting all together, to advance against the herd and, if possible, drive
the great beasts toward the precipice. Among this hundred there was none
more delighted than Ab and Oak, for, of course, these two had found each
other in the group, and were almost like a brace of dogs whining for the
danger and the hunt.
Not lightly was an expedition against a herd of mammoths to be begun, even
by a hundred well-armed people of the time of the cave men. The mammoth
was a monster beast, with perhaps somewhat less of sagaciousness than the
modern elephant, but with a temper which was demoniacal when aroused, and
with a strength which nothing could resist. He could be slain only by
strategy. Hence the everlasting watch over the triangular plateau and the
gathering of the cave and river people to catch him at a disadvantage.
But, even with a drove feeding near the slope which led to the precipice,
the cave men would have been helpless without the introduction of other
elements than their weapons and their clamor. The mammoth paid no more
attention to the cave man with a spear than to one of the little wild
horses which fed near him at times. The pygmy did not alarm him, but did
the pygmy ever venture upon an attack, then it was likely to be seized by
the huge trunk and flung against rock or tree, to fall crushed and
mangled, or else it was trodden viciously under foot. From one thing,
though, the mammoth, huge as he was, would flee in terror. He could not
face the element of fire, and this the cave men had learned to their
advantage. They could drive the mammoth when they dare not venture to
attack him, and herein lay their advantage.
Under direction of the veteran hunter, Hilltop, who had discovered the
whereabouts of the drove, preparations were made for the dangerous
advance, and the first thing done was the breaking off of dry roots of the
overturned pitch pines, and gathering of knots of the same trees, with
limbs attached, to serve as handles. These roots and knots, once lighted,
would blaze for hours and made the most perfect of natural torches.
Lengths of bark of certain other trees when bound together and lighted at
one end burned almost as long and brightly as the roots and knots. Each
man carried an unlighted torch of one kind or another, in addition to his
weapons, and when this provision was made the band was stretched out in a
long line and a silent advance began through the forest. The herd of
mammoths was composed of nineteen, led by a monster even of his kind, and
men who had been watching them all night and during the forenoon said that
the herd was feeding very near the edge of the wood, where it ended on the
slope leading to the precipice. There was ice upon the slope and there
were chances of a great day's hunting. To cut off the mammoths, that is,
to extend a line across the uprising peninsula where they were feeding,
would require a line of not more than about five hundred yards in length,
and as there were more than a hundred of the hunters, the line which could
be formed would be most effective. Lighted punk, which preserved fire and
gave forth no odor to speak of, was carried by a number of the men, and
the advance began.
It had been an exhilarating scene when the cave men and Shell People first
assembled and when the work of gathering material for the torches was in
progress. So far was the gathering from the present haunt of the game that
caution had been unnecessary, and there was talk and laughter and all the
open enjoyment of an anticipated conquest. The light snow, barely covering
the ground, flashed in the sun, and the hunters, practically impervious to
the slight cold, were almost prankish in their demeanor. Ab and Oak
especially were buoyant. This was the first hunt upon the rocky peninsula
of either of them, and they were delighted with the new surroundings and
eager for the fray to come. All about was talk and laughter, which became
general with any slight physical disaster which came to one among the
hunters in the climbing of some tree for a promising dead branch or
finding a treacherous hollow when assailing the roots of some upturned
pine. It was a brisk scene and a lively one, that which occurred that
crisp morning in late autumn when the wild men gathered to hunt the
mammoth. All was brightness and jollity and noise.
Very different, in a moment, was the condition when the hunters entered
the forest and, extended in line, began their advance toward the huge
objects of their search. The cave man, almost a wild beast himself in some
of his ways, had, on occasion, a footfall as light as that of any animal
of the time. The twig scarcely crackled and the leaf scarcely rustled
beneath his tread, and when the long line entered the wood the silence of
death fell there, for the hunters made no sound, and what slight sound the
woodland had before--the clatter of the woodpeckers and jays--was hushed
by their advance. So through the forest, which was tolerably close, the
dark line swept quietly forward until there came from somewhere a sudden
signal, and with a still more cautious advance and contraction of the line
as the peninsula narrowed the quarry was brought in sight of all.
Close to the edge of the slope, and separated by a slight open space from
the forest proper, was an evergreen grove, in which the herd of monster
beasts was feeding. A great bull, with long up-curling tusks, loomed above
them all, and was farthest away in the grove. The hunters, hidden in the
forest, lay voiceless and motionless until the elders decided upon a plan
of attack, and then the word was passed along that each man must fire his
torch.
All along the edge of the wood arose the flashing of little flames. These
grew in magnitude until a line of fire ran clear across the wood, and the
mammoths nearest raised their trunks and showed signs of uneasiness. Then
came a signal, a wild shout, and at once, with a yell, the long line burst
into the open, each man waving his flaming torch and rushing toward the
grove.
There was a chance--a slight one--that the whole herd might be stampeded,
but this had rarely happened within the memory of the oldest hunter. The
mammoth, though subject to panic, did not lack intelligence and when in a
group was conscious of its strength. As that yell ascended, the startled
beasts first rushed deeper into the grove and then, as the slope beyond
was revealed to them, turned and charged blindly, all save one, the great
tusker, who was feeding at the grove's outer verge. They came on, great
mountains of flesh, but swerved as they met the advancing line of fire and
weaved aimlessly up and down for a moment or two. Then a huge bull, stung
by a spear hurled by one of the hunters and frantic with fear, plunged
forward across the line and the others followed blindly. Three men were
crushed to death in their passage and all the mammoths were gone save the
big bull, who had started to rejoin his herd but had not reached it in
time. He was now raging up and down in the grove, bewildered and
trumpeting angrily. Immediately the hunters gathered closer together and
made their line of fire continuous.
The mammoth rushed out clear of the trees and stood looming up, a
magnificent creature of unrivaled size and majesty. His huge tusks shone
out whitely against the mountain of dark shaggy hair. His small eyes
blazed viciously as he raised his trunk and trumpeted out what seemed
either a hoarse call to his herd or a roar of agony over his strait. He
seemed for a moment as if about to rush upon the dense line of his
tormentors, but the flaming faggots dashed almost in his face by the
reckless and excited hunters daunted him, and, as a spear lodged in his
trunk, he turned with almost a shriek of pain and dashed into the grove
again. Close at his heels bounded the hundred men, yelling like demons and
forgetting all danger in the madness of the chase. Right through the grove
the great beast crashed and then half turned as he came to the open slope
beyond. Running beside him was a daring youth trying in vain to pierce him
in the belly with his flint-headed spear, and, as the mammoth came for the
moment to a half halt, his keen eyes noted the pygmy, his great trunk shot
downward and backward, picked up the man and hurled him yards away against
the base of a great tree, the body as it struck being crushed out of all
semblance to man and dropping to the earth a shapeless lump. But the fire
behind and about the desperate mammoth seemed all one flame now, countless
spears thrown with all the force of strong arms were piercing his tough
hide, and out upon the slope toward the precipice the great beast plunged.
Upon his very flanks was the fire and about him all the stinging danger
from the half-crazed hunters. He lunged forward, slipped upon the smooth
glacial floor beneath him, tried to turn again to meet his thronging foes
and face the ring of flame, and then, wavering, floundering, moving
wonderfully for a creature of his vast size, but uncertain as to foothold,
he was driven to the very crest of the ledge, and, scrambling vainly,
carrying away an avalanche of ice, snow and shrubs, went crashing to his
death, a hundred feet below!