BACK IN THE STONE AGE
Lursac, the first to turn away his head, touched Father Ravennes' arm.
"We no longer have any choice," he said. "If we wish to get out of here
we shall have to find our way up to the temple, or at any rate climb
one of the cliffs."
The missionary reluctantly turning from his contemplation of the
mammoths shook his head.
"No," said he, "they are all smooth and absolutely unscalable."
"Then it remains to discover this entrance."
"I have thought of that," said the priest, "but...."
"But?" questioned Pierre.
"What can we hope from that?... Think of it, Lursac, we are two and
they, up there in the temple...."
The young man shrugged his shoulders with restrained impatience:
"Have you another plan to propose to me?" he broke in.
And as the missionary shook his head, he went on bitterly:
"And in any case that's the only chance that we have of finding Wanda,
perhaps of saving her...."
He looked at the priest and repeated still more forcibly:
"We must find the entrance to the temple and manage to get in somehow.
After that, it is in the hands of God!"
The missionary saw him make a gesture which spoke of both resolution
and despair.
"So be it!" said he. "According to the directions of Hmon, the
sanctuary faced towards the Post, and consequently to the south. As we
have come on it from behind, it is there, towards the south, that we
shall find it."
He stretched his hand in front of him towards the extremity of the
ravine which an angle in one of the cliffs prevented them from seeing.
"And what about the caves?" asked Pierre, surprised, "I thought--as you
did for the matter of that...."
"No," said the priest, "no, I have come to a different conclusion since
then...."
He hesitated, and his voice took on a peculiar intonation while he
added:
"The caverns are used for ... something else ... at least I think
so.... Look!"
Together they raised their heads in the direction of the dark openings.
They were not now more than a hundred yards from them and they could
distinguish details clearly.
The darkness which was gathering prevented their seeing into the
interiors, but each of the caves had in front of it a platform with
a gentle grassy slope leading down to the valley. The mouths of the
caves, cut roughly and irregularly into the rock, remained empty and no
sound or sign of life gave token that they were inhabited.
Slowly the dusk fell. Little by little the surroundings lost their
distinctness: the ceiling of fog began to flow downward between the
cliffs, while above the two forests at each end of the great depression
and over the surface of the swamp a fine mist floated and spread. From
the opposite end of the valley a confused murmuring arose. Astonished,
the missionary looked across the marsh and searched the plain. By
turns, visible and disappearing among the clumps of trees, he could see
a brown spot. At the same time the noise which had surprised him became
more distinct. It was a heavy beating of the ground like a hurried
stamping of a herd in flight. He touched Pierre's arm. Both of them
gazed eagerly. The spot grew larger, came nearer, and disappeared into
a streak of fog and reappeared suddenly at the corner of a copse.
"Buffaloes!" whispered Pierre.
The missionary made no answer.
The herd was hurrying across the plain. Following the bank of the marsh
opposite which it had debouched from the wood, it gained the grassy
runway, spread along the bottom of the cliff and passed in front of the
caves. The hammering hoofs mingled in a frenzied rush. The troop of
over two hundred beasts tore along with their heads lowered, and the
tall grasses mowed down by their weight were torn apart and trodden
into the ground. The herd was rushing straight for the forest in which
the two men were hiding. Now the animals could be seen with clearness
and the priest shot a glance at Pierre as he corrected him:
"Buffaloes? No,--aurochs!"
The beasts galloping side by side in thick ranks formed a single brown
mass. Leading the herd, a great male bounded along, holding his horns
high and bellowing furiously. He passed in front of Lursac and the
missionary, bearing away slightly to the right. His left haunch was
bleeding; three arrows were sticking up to the heads in his tawny hide;
in his withers, swinging at every bound, they could see the handle of
a great axe sticking out. In a second he was buried in the shadows of
the forest, and behind him with the rush of an avalanche the entire
herd swept under the trees breaking down the bushes, tearing the
thickets apart and smashing everything in their way. In another minute
the thunder of their flight, mixed with bellowings, was separated from
the observers by a screen of leaves and gradually faded away into the
distance leaving silence behind it.
Father Ravennes recalled to his mind the great male who had charged
galloping at the head of the herd, his vast size, his long legs, the
crinkled hair of his head and neck, his great wicked-looking muzzle,
his low-lying horns.
"Yes, ..." said he, "aurochs! The giant bulls of the quaternary epoch,
of which the entire species is now extinct...."
"Ah!" said Pierre, "the hunters! What of the hunters! You saw the
arrows, the axe?..."
The missionary gave him a quick look and turned round towards the
plains.
"The hunters?" said he. "Well, look, there they are!"
Sudden emotion seemed to overcome him, his features were strained into
an expression of intense expectation.
In his turn, Pierre turned to look.
At first he only saw a number of small dark specks, scarcely visible,
which moved at the end of the valley and gradually came closer until
they formed a single group which moved towards the marsh. Following the
passage torn by the herd of aurochs a few moments before, they came
along slowly and still without any regular formation. They reached
the swamp and followed along the bank. The mist which floated on the
waters prevented the watchers from seeing them clearly. They finally
arrived at the entrance of the grassy runway and Pierre began to be
able to see them better. There were about forty of them, divided in
three groups following close after one another. First of all, alone,
walking with great steps, was a Man. It was upon him that Lursac and
the missionary's attention became concentrated.
Night was falling; a dusk of luminous mauve enwrapped the scene,
flinging over everything a veil of indefiniteness and beauty. The
entire plain, with its forests sunk in the shadows of the distance,
with its gray walls and it green grasses and the silvery surface of
its swampy lake, gave the impression of a picture harmoniously and
cunningly put together by some classic artist.
On the background of this sylvan scene the Man advanced. Soon he was
within three hundred yards of them, ... two hundred. His outline,
an outline of strength, tall and vigorous, became larger and more
distinct. Certain details standing out little by little from the
vagueness caught the attention. First of all his raiment; a simple
animal skin with long brown fur, shaped like a chasuble, which fell
down to the middle of his thighs and was bound to him by a cord; then
his weapons--a heavy club which he balanced on his bare arm, a lance on
which he leant now and again with his left hand.
The hunter was by this time at the foot of the caves scarcely one
hundred yards away from the missionary and Lursac. They saw him in
profile. He had stopped, apparently waiting for the rest of the troop
to come up. He lifted his arm and made a sign, and his call mounted in
the silence:
"_O ... ô ... iê ... êp ... iê ... ê ... êp._"
He turned slowly, and his face became visible; red-skinned, crude,
large and low-browed, with high cheek bones and eyes deeply set--a face
simple and uncivilized with something savage and yet sweet in it at
the same time, a fierce and powerful face, framed in long reddish hair
falling to the shoulders....
The missionary seized the young man by the arm, gripping him with
almost painful violence:
"The quaternary man ... the ancestor of the human race. The man of
Cro-Magnon and of Mentone ... alive! ... alive!..."
He trembled; his voice, hardly understandable, seemed to scrape his
throat painfully. He gave the young man no time to give vent to his
astonishment; he went on:
"Yes ... you heard correctly.... I am not drunk! ... this is not a
nightmare.... The Red Gods: a clan of prehistoric men who continue to
lead here in this deep recess which walls them in from the rest of the
world the same life that they have lived for thirty thousand years,
and everything is explained. The mystery with which the sorceresses
envelop this region, the death with which they strike those who wish
to penetrate it, the flint arms which bestrew the entire district, the
legend of the Living Gods, everything! ... everything!..."
"But," said Pierre.
"I am sure of it ... sure of it ... I suspected it long ago. The whole
thing, tangled and obscure, has been turning over and over in my mind
for some time. When I heard Hmon pronounce those words: the Red
Gods ... the Red Ones,[16] that is to say the earliest ... yes ... at
that moment I began to.... However, I was doubtful. It appeared to
me so fantastic that I did not, could not believe it. I looked for
some other explanation. But now the truth is standing there before
me. However incredible it is, I cannot disbelieve it. You have seen
the face of the Man. He belongs to no existing race. His appearance
is neither that of a Moï, a Chinese, a Lao-ese nor yet of a European.
These features are those of the primitive Mongoloids, of the primeval
ancestors of the human race."
[Footnote 16: Father Ravennes was here making allusion to the
traditions of antiquity which are all agreed on the existence of a
prehistoric race called the Red Race which must have been the first
human race. This Red Race was that of the masters, the Gods. The
Egyptian bas-reliefs show (writes M. Michel Manzi in a remarkable
scientific work) that there were then four races, the red, the
yellow, the black and the white. In India the famous Rutas who are
traditionally supposed to have brought civilization to the world are
represented as red men. All the most ancient peoples, the Iberians,
Basques, Chaldeans, etc., claimed to have been of this color and to be
descended from the sons of Ad the first man, the Red. The word Adam
indeed means Red Man.... The Arabs also claim descent from the sons of
Ad, the great antediluvian race, the race of giants who erected vast
buildings of hewn stone.]
An immense joy had taken possession of the soul of the scientist. He
raised his head proudly, his voice filled out with sonorous resonance.
"This extraordinary thing _we_ have been the first to see. It is we,
Lursac, _we_ who have made this astounding discovery. All the old
disputes of the schools, all the theories about which the seeker and
scientist argue, the great problem of the origin of humanity--we have
found their solution! We!... We!..."
* * * * *
Meanwhile the tribe had begun the ascent of the slope leading to the
caves. The hunter with the club walked at their head. Behind him
came eight men carrying on their shoulders a litter made of leaves
and branches. On it lay the body of an animal. Of its monstrous bulk
nothing could be seen but one of its enormous black hairy paws which
hung over the side of the improvised stretcher and swayed gently with
the motion of its carriers.
Then in a compact group the other hunters followed slowly. The sound
of their voices could be heard, now and again dominated by a high
guttural note. They were all armed with lance and pointed axe, and
all alike clad in dark reddish furs. Their faces all showed the same
characteristic features, and were framed by the same long red hair
which fell round their shoulders in bright tawny locks.
Although they were of a stature well above the normal, they seemed less
finely built and less harmoniously developed in every way than the Man
who walked at their head and was evidently their chief. At a sign from
him they stopped.
With his face turned towards the cave's opening, about fifty yards
ahead of him, the hunter once again emitted his hoarse cry:
"_O ... ô ... iê ... êp._..."
And after him the men took up the call and sent it ringing across the
valley. For a moment they all stood motionless, faces turned towards
the platforms of the caves. Already the night was stealing along the
cliffs. The dark mouth of the caverns became indistinct and only the
narrow platforms which stood in front of them still caught a little
light from the bluish dusk.
There was silence. Then other voices thinner and less strong, worn
voices of old men, clear high voices of women and children sounded
through the valley:
"_O ... ô ... iê ... êp._..."
Dark forms swarming out of the caves ran on to the platforms and leaned
over. A few of them separated from the mass and began to descend to
meet the men. A last ray of light shone slanting on the little hill.
The troop of men had resumed their march. The darkness thickened, their
silhouettes became indistinct. On the shoulder of the hill the ray of
light narrowed and retreated. The chief of the clan first, and after
him the body of the hunters, reached it and passed through it, and
their slow procession crossing through the pencil of pale gold again
went into the darkness; while before the caverns the fires, lighting up
one by one, pierced the obscurity with their seven-fold spears of red
light.