The Mammoth and Rhinoceros were standing near the foot of the mountain
beneath an overhanging cliff. From time to time they glanced eastward as
though expecting some one. The storm had moderated considerably.
“It’s about time he were returning,” Hairi remarked. “I hope when he does
come back he will be all rested and warm. What a pity he cannot learn to
fancy the cold weather as we do.”
“Here he comes now,” said the Rhinoceros.
Both animals possessed keen ears and noses, but their eyesight was not at
all good. They saw a blurred figure coming toward them through the snow,
but neither one of them could have distinguished a man from an elk at
that distance. The figure moved in a most peculiar manner. It walked on
its hind legs, but as it approached them the two friends saw, to their
astonishment, that it was not a man.
“A bear,” muttered Wulli.
“Yes, it looks like a bear,” said the Mammoth; “but did you ever see one
behave like that?”
The creature was in truth performing most strangely. Its movements were
those of one intoxicated, a condition that neither of the pair had ever
observed in a bear or any one else, for that matter. It seemed to be
having great difficulty managing its legs and feet. These tripped over
and interfered with one another in an astonishing way. The big body
heaved and tossed about because of its unreliable support. Finally, when
several rods distant, it stumbled and fell sprawling in the snow. Hairi
and Wulli looked on in amazement as the creature floundered helplessly
upon its back like a turtle. After much puffing and grunting, it righted
itself and again assumed an upright position.
A bear was nothing to be afraid of; so thought the Mammoth and
Rhinoceros; but this one’s behavior mystified them. Once on its feet
again, it lurched and lumbered forward, waving both paws as if in
greeting. “Hi-yo, Hairi! Hi-yo, Wulli!” it cried.
The two friends jumped. They were trembling now and too scared to move.
The words and voice sounded strangely familiar. They were those of a
human being, but the creature was a bear. Then more surprising still,
its head fell back and a man’s face appeared. The mouth was grinning as
though it would split.
The Mammoth was on the point of beating a hasty retreat when Wulli
suddenly squealed, “Pic! that is his face. What has become of the rest of
him?”
[Illustration: PIC ASTONISHES HIS FRIENDS]
Hairi’s eyes opened wide. “Pic, sure enough. But his body; where is that?
The bear must have eaten it.”
“Perhaps he ate the bear,” whispered Wulli, clutching at a small ray of
hope. “Let’s ask him.”
“Ho-ho!” laughed the unknown. “Did I frighten you? Now don’t run away,
Hairi, for there is nothing to worry about. Nobody has eaten anybody.”
The voice was reassuring and it belonged to Pic without question. The
Mammoth breathed more freely. He advanced a few steps and touched the
other with the tip of his trunk. “Fur, long and thick like a bear’s.” He
turned to the Rhinoceros and said, “I told him to do it and he has done
it. But who would believe that he could grow so much hair and in so short
a time?”
Sounds of muffled laughter greeted this last remark. Wulli now came
forward to investigate the reason for this unseemly mirth. He sniffed at
the bearskin, then suddenly backed away squealing with alarm. “Oo-wee!
Blood! I smell it! Oo-wee; somebody has been killed.”
The two animals might have bolted then and there, had not Pic put an end
to the farce. He threw the skin from his body and it fell in a heap about
his legs.
“It is I; all of me,” he said. “Somebody has been killed but I was not
the one. I slew the bear, otherwise he would have slain me. With my
flint-blade I cut his pelt from him and now it is mine.”
“And so you did not grow it,” said the Mammoth, somewhat crestfallen.
“At any rate, you did your best to do as I told you.”
Wulli took an entirely different view of the matter. He could appreciate
a good fighter. “Only a big man could kill such a big bear,” he remarked
thoughtfully.
“And a smaller bear would not have been much use to him,” Hairi sagely
remarked. “He could never have gotten in its skin. I say he did right.”
“Right or wrong, only a good fighter could have done it,” grumbled the
Rhinoceros.
“And now I am clad as warmly as you are,” said Pic. “It will be better
for all of us, for we can travel as fast as we please. The skin will keep
me warm. This makes us three instead of two Tundr-folk.”
The new arrangement was a success from the very start. The bearskin
had its drawbacks, but they detracted only in a small measure from the
main point. Pic could not make much headway in it traveling on foot;
furthermore, the Mammoth was obliged to lift him to his seat when he
vainly endeavored to mount. Pic was no more able to help himself than a
turkey tied up in brown paper. However, when once astride Hairi’s neck,
he was in the height of his glory. His new garment was impervious to wind
and cold, and having nothing to do but sit and think, he felt thoroughly
comfortable and contented. The two animals shared his good spirits. From
then on the party got along finely and proceeded at a great rate.
The Ebro River soon appeared upon their left. It was fed by many smaller
streams flowing into it from the mountains. The latter were frequently
cleft by deep passes or defiles running through them from south to
north. After crossing the headwaters of the Ebro the trio came in sight
of another mountain pass traversed by a modest stream. This latter
was partly frozen over, but the Mammoth and Rhinoceros were powerful
cold-water swimmers and found little trouble in breaking their way
through the ice to the opposite side. As they climbed the bank and halted
to shake the water out of their shaggy coats, Pic saw before him a lofty
peak in whose side, five hundred feet or more above the level on which
he stood, loomed a dark spot. His trained eye immediately recognized it
as a cave. It must be in or near the zone of human occupancy if what
the snow-grouse had said was true. Now was the time to cut through the
mountain range to the northern side.
Pic glanced at the sky. The sun was hidden in the west. Before long, all
would be dark. The party must wait until morning before proceeding, and
so they began to look about for a convenient spot to halt and rest. Pic
resolved to spend his night in the cave, assuming it to be vacant. No
fire burned upon its threshold. And yet, it might be the home of a man
who could be forced to give information that might prove valuable.
The trio advanced to the mountain. It appeared near, but appearances were
deceiving, and it was quite dark when they drew up at the foot of the
steep slope. Here Pic and his friends parted; the former to climb upward,
the latter to proceed a short distance, browsing as they went.
Pic discovered the cave to be a small one and unoccupied. However, it
had been a man’s home and probably still was, for the human odor still
clung to it. This was interesting and important, for it was reasonable
to suppose that other human beings lived somewhere near. Pic glowed all
over with the pleasure and excitement this thought aroused in him. The
long climb too had warmed him, particularly as he was now attired in his
bearskin suit. The latter was cumbersome, but it would make a comfortable
sleeping bag, and for that reason he had been loth to leave it behind.
Before settling down upon the threshold to rest he examined the cave.
There was little to see, for it was a small and simple hollow in the rock
and absolutely bare except for a single flat stone lying upon the floor.
Pic lay down in the cave-entrance, gathered his robe about him and was
not long in drifting to the land of rest and forgetfulness.
In the morning’s small hours he suddenly awakened. A low scraping noise
sounded from behind him—from the floor of the cave. It continued with
fits and starts. Still lying motionless, he turned his head around far
enough to view the cave interior. He saw nothing there—nothing but
the stone upon the floor. “Probably some small animal stirring,” he
thought and then—the stone moved. For a moment he was startled, to say
the least. No stone ever shifted about of itself. Something must be
pushing it. He looked on dumbfounded as the stone hitched itself almost
imperceptibly along the cave-floor. It appeared bewitched; and then, as
he watched its strange motions while uneasiness and fear of the unknown
began to creep over him, a vent appeared beneath the stone and from it
issued a human hand.
A man! The mystery was now explained.
The cave-owner was concealed in a hole in the floor and was removing the
stone which covered the entrance to it. Pic gathered his feet together
under him, laughing softly to himself. What was there to fear from one
man? He rose to a crouching position, relieving himself of the bearskin
as he did so. Leaving this in a heap where he had lain, he crawled to the
rear of the grotto and kneeled behind the hole in the floor, his arms
outstretched—and waiting. The mysterious hands—there were now two of
them—sank within the cavity and a head appeared. It rose until its eyes
were above the level of the cave-floor. The eyes stared at the bearskin
robe a few seconds, then the head settled down and again the hands
reached upward to grasp the stone.
[Illustration: “THE UNKNOWN WAS PLUCKED FROM HIS BURROW”]
Quick as lightning Pic pounced upon the hands, locking both wrists in his
iron grip. One heave and the unknown was plucked from his burrow like a
rabbit, struggling and yelling like fury at finding himself so suddenly
caught. A boy and a stout one, too, for he fought like a wildcat; but he
was as helpless as a kitten in the clutches of the giant Mousterian. Pic
held him fast and dragged him to the outside light. “Agh, little rascal!”
he said. “And so you were the one who disturbed my night’s rest.”
At the sound of his voice, the boy gave a loud cry that made his captor’s
heart leap within his chest:
“Father!”
Pic seized the lad’s head between his hands and turned it so that he
could peer into the face. His knees trembled, his whole body shook as
with ague.
“Kutnar! Boy, is it you?”
For an instant each face stared at the other as in the waking moments of
a dream. Then came light and understanding and in a moment father and son
were locked tightly in each other’s arms.