The Mammoth had no share in his companion’s regrets. That which he saw,
aroused his interest to the full.
The rock-platform below which he stood was backed by a lofty limestone
wall. The latter rose straight up in seamed and jagged layers and ended
in a high table-land crowned with snow and leafless shrubs. A cavern
opened at its base. In front of the cavern crouched the figure of a
man. His back was turned towards the two friends, giving them only the
rear view of a large bun-shaped head almost buried in broad, massive
shoulders. A hyena skin partly covered his nakedness. It was but a single
garment thrown over his back, with the forepaws tied together beneath his
chin. Shoulders, arms and legs were left exposed. They bulged with fibre
and sinew beneath their covering of short thick hair.
Suddenly the unknown half-turned to glance down beside him, revealing
his features in profile; a low forehead, heavy brow-ridges and deep-set
eyes. His lower face projected strongly forward. Its effect was massive
rather than protruding because of the well-formed nose which amply filled
the space between mouth and eyes. The lower jaw had a round, receding
chin. The huge head was set upon a thick neck, so short that the base of
the skull melted away into the shoulders and gave the latter a stooped
appearance.
The stranger was about five feet tall. He sat, or rather squatted, thigh
on heel with knees apart, devoting his entire attention to some peculiar
task. In his right hand he held a large granite pebble with which he
repeatedly struck a flint-flake held in his left. At every stroke, the
chips flew about his ears beneath the blow of the hammer-stone.
To the Mammoth, this performance was more puzzling than the performer
himself. He had seen cave-men before but never at such close range.
“Odd creatures these Trog-folk,” he whispered. “See how he sits on his
hind legs and uses the front ones—just like a squirrel. What can he be
doing?”
“Cracking rocks,” Wulli replied. “All Trog-men do the same thing—I know
not why.”
“Indeed; I never noticed what they were doing,” said the Mammoth and
he continued to watch the scene before him with the greatest interest.
Apparently the Cave Man had espied neither him nor the Rhinoceros,—the
two eavesdroppers peering over the terrace behind him. Rock-cracking
claimed his sole and undivided attention. The hammer-stone in his right
hand rose and fell with unbroken regularity upon the flint-flake held in
his left.
Wulli quickly tired of this monotonous performance; but with every blow,
the Mammoth’s eyes and mouth opened wider and wider.
“What does it mean?” he exclaimed. “So unusual. There must be something
in rocks of which we have not yet learned.”
“Perhaps he eats them,” grunted the Rhinoceros. “If so he can have my
share. They break teeth and taste of nothing. I prefer grass.”
“Look,” Hairi whispered in an awed voice. The Cave Man had ceased
pounding the flint he held and was examining it with the greatest care,
first on one side then on the other, meanwhile running his thumb along
its ragged edges. Something about it must have displeased him, for
with a grunt he tossed the flake over his left shoulder, then selected
another from a small pile before him. The rejected flint, hurled so
unceremoniously over the ledge, struck the Mammoth’s trunk. Hairi emitted
a muffled squeal which instantly betrayed his presence.
The Cave Man sprang quickly to his feet. For an instant, he glared
fiercely at the two eavesdroppers, then snatching up a jagged rock,
bounded nimbly to the terrace edge.
[Illustration: “UGH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE?”]
“Ugh-h! What are you doing there?” he demanded in a deep guttural voice.
The rock was poised threateningly over the Mammoth’s head.
Hairi was too startled by the suddenness of it all to speak or move.
Wulli’s eyes sparkled. He was taking note of the Cave Man’s resolute
bearing and the huge rock held aloft with such seeming ease. He was
amazed that the Cave Man was prepared to defend himself and at the great
physical strength which could lift a stone of such size and weight. No
fear that it might at any moment come tumbling down upon his own head
disturbed Wulli’s trend of thought.
The stranger had spoken words that neither of his hearers could grasp,
the man-language which in their ears was a confused jabber of meaningless
sounds. But his look and actions were enough. He had not flinched from
even such a formidable pair as the Mammoth and Woolly Rhinoceros; and
then as though realizing that he had none but brutes to deal with, he
burst forth into the Mother Nature tongue:
“By the Lion’s tooth! What are you doing there?”
Hairi shrank back amazed. He now heard and saw familiar sounds and
gestures—the beast-talk which all creatures could understand. Never had
he thought Trog-men capable of talking sense—these strange beings who
huddled together in caves and made no friends among the beasts about them.
“The Cave Lion—where is he?” was all the Mammoth could say.
“Gone. What do you want of him?”
“We came to fight,” replied the Elephant who by this time was fast
recovering from his first astonishment. “He lives in that cave; so we
have been told.”
The other lowered his arms and tossed the rock to one side. “Then you did
not come here to fight me?” he demanded.
“As you please,” snorted the Rhinoceros. “But we must attend to Grun
Waugh first. Then you may have your turn.”
The Cave Man smiled. Beasts never more than snarled and showed their
teeth; and in their hideous mouthings was none of the joy and sunshine
which now softened that friendly face. The smile was a revelation. Both
the Mammoth and Rhinoceros unconsciously felt its warmth. Unkind thoughts
were for the moment cast aside. After much effort, they dragged their
great bodies up the steep face of the terrace. Seeing that the two beasts
were peaceably inclined, the Cave Man stepped back and permitted them a
foothold upon the rock-platform. As they scrambled up and found room for
themselves, he stood fearlessly beneath the mighty Mammoth’s trunk and
curling tusks; unabashed within thrusting range of the Rhino’s horn. With
a confidence born only of the moment, he unhesitatingly placed himself at
the mercy of his visitors, a situation which they were quick to see and
appreciate.
“Oo-wee! No teeth nor claws and yet you do not fear us,” Wulli could not
help saying. “But all is well; we wish you no harm.”
“Who are you?” Hairi asked.
“Pic.”
The Mammoth frowned. “None but leaders and fighters have names,” he said
sternly. “You are but one of the poor Trog-folk as we can plainly see. We
are Hairi the Mammoth and Wulli the Rhinoceros——”
“And I am Pic,”—said the other boldly. He hesitated a moment, then
added—“the Ape Boy.”
“Ape Boy?” Wulli asked. “What is that?”
“A boy is a young man. As for the ape part I do not know, nor am I so
sure I would like it if I did know. The Cave Lion, even men call me that.”
“Owk, the Cave Lion,” said the Mammoth, suddenly remembering what he was
there for. “Where is he? How did you come here?”
“I live here,” was the answer. “I have lived in this valley ever since
I can remember. Do you see that cave?”—the Ape Boy pointed to the dark
opening in the rock-wall,—“It is mine. I sleep there.”
“Then we have come to the wrong place.”
“Yes and no. The Cave Lion lived there too but that was when I was away.
When the cold weather came, I had to find shelter, so I drove him out.”
Hairi and Wulli pricked up their ears at this. Of all animals, Grun Waugh
was a tough customer, as they well knew. As experts they took no small
pride in their ability to tame him. But lo and behold! here was a puny
Trog Boy who spoke of ousting him from his den as though that were a
simple matter indeed.
“Drove him out, did you?” the Rhinoceros snorted. “Oo-wee! How did the
Cave Lion like that?”
“He was angry,” replied the Ape Boy with a bland smile; “Arrah, so angry!
He absolutely refused to be driven away at first; but I was determined
that he must go. The air became so cold, I had to find shelter. You would
not expect me to stay there with him in it, would you?” he demanded.
By this time Wulli’s professional pride was deeply wounded.
“We came to rid that den of its owner, Grun Waugh,” he said. “But now
that he is gone, you who can manage the brute so easily may serve our
purpose even better.” In spite of his endeavor to appear calm, Wulli’s
voice jerked perceptibly.
The Ape Boy set his jaws tightly together and glared at the Rhinoceros.
“Take care,” he growled. “You see that I wear the skin of a hyena—my own
killing. I have disposed of the Cave Lion for all of his sharp teeth and
claws. You two—horns, tusks and everything—can be dealt with in the same
way.”
Wulli promptly accepted this threat as a challenge. He trotted to the
cave mouth and backed into the dark opening until only head and horn
protruded. The Mammoth lumbered after and strove to imitate him. When
about half-way in, he came to a sudden stop. His shoulder-hump had bumped
against the roof and he could proceed no farther.
“Owk, owk; this hole is too small,” he bellowed. “What shall I do?”
“Be quiet,” sounded Wulli’s muffled voice behind him. “You are a
cave-lion; so am I. Now let us see if he can drive us out.”
After waiting until the pair were firmly intrenched, the Ape Boy left
them to their own devices for the moment while he darted about the
rock-platform, picking up such dry leaves, sticks and brush as lay there
fallen from above. These he piled in front of the two animals, now
playing the parts of a pair of fierce cave-lions about to be driven
forth into the cold world by the third and star performer—himself. The
Mammoth and Wulli—peering between his partner’s forelegs—looked on,
curious rather than fierce. They saw the Ape Boy glide away and disappear
in a cleft behind a projection in the back wall. They were preparing to
claim a well-earned victory when the youth suddenly reappeared with a
smoking firebrand in one hand. As the odor of burning wood reached their
nostrils, Hairi and Wulli coughed and stamped their feet uneasily. They
saw the Ape Boy kneel down and thrust the brand into the mass of twigs
and leaves. Then came a strange crackling sound followed by a sight
fearful to behold.
From the pile arose red writhing tongues which leaped and lashed with
burning breath. White cloud-puffs scattered by the breeze, curled about
in all directions and filled the eyes and nostrils of the now terrified
animals. Retreat was impossible; advance hopeless. Solid rock behind; red
tongues and white clouds in front. Amid a chorus of frantic squeals and
trumpetings, a voice rang out loud and clear from behind the red tongues
and white curling clouds:
“Ya-ya, hi-yi! Come out of my cave or stay in and choke.”
But by this time, the two animals were in a panic of fear and took no
heed. Nothing, not even the nearness of death, could have induced them to
dash through the scorching heat and suffocating smoke. The Ape Boy saw
their terror and decided that he had done enough. His heart softened.
With one well-directed kick, he sent the burning embers flying across the
ledge in all directions.
Out dashed the two would-be cave-lions in mad haste and raced along the
platform until the grotto was hidden from their view by a projecting
portion of the back-wall. Here they paused to gather breath and calm
their nerves. Their eyes and noses still smarted from the irritating
smoke.
“Kerchoo! I have had enough of that Ape Boy and his little red and white
animal,” said the Mammoth.
“And I; oo-oo, my nose!” the Rhinoceros wailed. “Let us climb down again.”
So the two friends labored sideways down the steep terrace incline and
were preparing to retreat along the main slope when a rustling sounded
upon the rock-platform. There stood the Ape Boy watching them. His knees
were bent forwards. His arms dangled with the palms of his hands turned
backwards.
“Wait. Don’t go. Do come back.” He spoke so earnestly that the two
animals paused. They saw him squat on the very edge of the terrace,
perched like a bird with feet tightly gripping the shelving ledge.
Each big toe was separate from its mates like a thumb. This peculiar
arrangement enabled him to grasp the edge of the rock and hold himself
securely anchored. No trace of red tongues or white clouds were to be
seen about him. Hairi and Wulli made certain of this. They sniffed and
sniffed but detected no alarming signs.
“What has become of the red animal with the bad, hot breath?” the Mammoth
inquired.
At first the Ape Boy failed to understand, then his face expanded in an
amused smile: “You mean fire and smoke. It is asleep now and I will not
awaken it again if such is your wish.”
“It is,” declared Wulli emphatically. “I will not face it again.”
“I know,” the Ape Boy laughed. “All animals are afraid of fire. That is
why I use it to fight them. The Cave Lion fears it too. Without it, I
could never have driven him away. He could crush me with one blow of his
big paw; but heat and smoke are too much for him.”
At this account of Grun Waugh’s discomfiture, the two animals were much
interested.
“Tell us about him,” Wulli asked.
“And of yourself,” the Mammoth added. “Why do you live here alone?”
“Alone? Yes; why?” The youth’s face sobered in an instant. “Because I
have no friends; that is why. You would not understand. None but men know
what it means to live forever alone.”
The great Mammoth trembled. His ears fluttered like fans. Yes, he
knew. Solitude was his own greatest dread. No lone beast or man need
call vainly upon his sociable nature. The Ape Boy’s words and manner
now impressed him more profoundly than even his first glimpse of the
friendly, grinning face.
He wheeled and scrambled up to the rock-platform. “Come, Wulli,” he said.
“The little red beast sleeps. We must remember our manners and show some
courtesy to one who bears himself so boldly before the Rhinoceros, the
Mammoth and Grun Waugh.”