At first I was murderously suspicious of him, and I walked about with my
automatic arsenal ostentatiously displayed. But he looked like such a
miserable little shrimp that I became ashamed of my precautions. Besides,
as he cheerfully pointed out, a little koonti soaked in my drinking
water, would have done my business for me if he had meant me any physical
harm. Also he had a horrid habit of noosing moccasins for sport; and it
would have been easy for him to introduce one to me while I slept.
Really what most worried me was the feeling which I could not throw off
that somehow or other we were making very little progress in any
particular direction.
He even admitted that there was reason for my doubts, but he confided to
me that to find these Coquina hills, was like traversing a maze. Doubling
to and fro among forests and swamps, he insisted, was the only possible
path of access to the undiscovered Coquina hills of Florida. Otherwise,
he argued, these Coquina hills would long ago have been discovered.
And it seemed to me that he had been right when at last we came out on
the edge of a palm forest and beheld that astounding blue outline of
hills in a country which has always been supposed to lie as flat as a
flabby flap-jack.
A desert of saw-palmetto stretched away before us to the base of the
hills; game trails ran through it in every direction like sheep paths;
a few moth-eaten Florida deer trotted away as we appeared.
Into one of these trails stepped Samuel Mink, burdened only with his
concertina and a box of cigars. I, loaded with seventy pounds of
impedimenta including a moving-picture apparatus, reeled after him.
He walked on jauntily toward the hills, his pearl-coloured bowler hat at
an angle. Occasionally he played upon his concertina as he advanced; now
and then he cut a pigeon wing. I hated him. At every toilsome step I
hated him more deeply. He played "Tipperary" on his concertina.
"See 'em, old top?" he inquired, nodding toward the hills. "I'm a man of
my word, I am. Look at 'em! Take 'em in, old sport! An' reemember, each
an' every hill is guaranteed to contain one bony fidy cave-lady what is
the last vanishin' traces of a extinc' an' dissappeerin' race!"
We toiled on--that is, I did, bowed under my sweating load of
paraphernalia. He skipped in advance like some degenerate twentieth
century faun, playing on his pipes the unmitigated melodies of George
Cohan.
"Watch your step!" he cried, nimbly avoiding the attentions of a
ground-rattler which tried to caress his ankle from under a saw-palmetto.
With a shudder I gave the deadly little reptile room and floundered
forward a prey to exhaustion, melancholy, and red-bugs. A few buzzards
kept pace with me, their broad, black shadows gliding ominously over the
sun-drenched earth; blue-tail lizards went rustling and leaping away on
every side; floppy soft-winged butterflies escorted me; a strange bird
which seemed to be dressed in a union suit of checked gingham, flew from
tree to tree as I plodded on, and squealed at me persistently.
At last I felt the hard coquina under foot; the cool blue shadow of the
hills enveloped me; I slipped off my pack, dumped it beside a little rill
of crystal water which ran sparkling from the hills, and sat down on a
soft and fragrant carpet of hound's-tongue.
After a while I drank my fill at the rill, bathed head, neck, face and
arms, and, feeling delightfully refreshed, leaned back against the
fern-covered slab of coquina.
"What are you doing?" I demanded of Mink who was unpacking the kit and
disengaging the moving-picture machine.
"Gettin' ready," he replied, fussing busily with the camera.
"You don't expect to see any cave people here, do you?" I asked with a
thrill of reviving excitement.
"Why not?"
"_Here_?"
"Cert'nly. Why the first one I seen was a-drinkin' into this brook."
"Here! Where I'm sitting?" I asked incredulously.
"Yes, sir, right there. It was this way; I was lyin' down, tryin' to
figure the shortes' way to Fort Coquina, an' wishin' I was nearer
Broadway than I was to the Equator, when I heard a voice say, 'Blub-blub,
muck-a-muck!' an' then I seen two cave-ladies come sof'ly stealin'
along."
"W-where?"
"Right there where you are a-sittin'. Say, they was lookers! An' they
come along quiet like two big-eyed deer, kinder nosin' the air and
listenin'.
"'Gee whiz,' thinks I, 'Longacre ain't got so much on them dames!' An' at
that one o' them wore a wild-cat's skin an' that's all--an' a wild-cat
ain't big. And t'other she sported pa'm-leaf pyjamas.
"So when they don't see nothin' around to hinder, they just lays down
flat and takes a drink into that pool, lookin' up every swallow like
little birds listenin' and kinder thankin' God for a good square drink.
"I knowed they was wild girls soon as I seen 'em. Also they sez to one
another, 'Blub-blub!' Kinder sof'ly. All the same I've seen wilder ladies
on Broadway so I took a chanst where I was squattin' behind a rock.
"So sez I, 'Ah there, sweetie Blub-blub! Have a taxi on me!' An' with
that they is on their feet, quiverin' all over an' nosin' the wind. So
first I took some snapshots at 'em with my Bijoo camera.
"I guess they scented me all right for I seen their eyes grow bigger, an'
then they give a bound an' was off over the rocks; an' me after 'em. Say,
that was some steeple-chase until a few more cave-ladies come out on them
rocks above us an' hove chunks of coquina at me.
"An' with all that dodgin' an' duckin' of them there rocks the cave-girls
got away; an' I seen 'em an' the other cave-ladies scurryin' into little
caves--one whisked into this hole, another scuttled into that--bing! all
over!
"All I could think of was to light a cigar an' blow the smoke in after
the best-lookin' cave-girl. But I couldn't smoke her out, an' I hadn't
time to starve her out. So that's all I know about this here
pree-historic an' extinc' race o' vanishin' cave-ladies."
As his simple and illiterate narrative advanced I became proportionally
excited; and, when he ended, I sprang to my feet in an uncontrollable
access of scientific enthusiasm:
"Was she really pretty?" I asked.
"Listen, she was that peachy--"
"Enough!" I cried. "Science expects every man to do his duty! Are your
films ready to record a scene without precedent in the scientific annals
of creation?"
"They sure is!"
"Then place your camera and your person in a strategic position. This is
a magnificent spot for an ambush! Come over beside me!"
He came across to where I had taken cover among the ferns behind the
parapet of coquina, and with a thrill of pardonable joy I watched him
unlimber his photographic artillery and place it in battery where my
every posture and action would be recorded for posterity if a cave-lady
came down to the water-hole to drink.
"It were futile," I explained to him in a guarded voice, "for me to
attempt to cajole her as you attempted it. Neither playful nor moral
suasion could avail, for it is certain that no cave-lady understands
English."
"I thought o' that, too," he remarked. "I said, 'Blub-blub! muck-a-muck!'
to 'em when they started to run, but it didn't do no good."
I smiled: "Doubtless," said I, "the spoken language of the cave-dweller
is made up of similarly primitive exclamations, and you were quite right
in attempting to communicate with the cave-ladies and establish a cordial
entente. Professor Garner has done so among the Simian population of
Gaboon. Your attempt is most creditable and I shall make it part of my
record.
"But the main idea is to capture a living specimen of cave-lady, and
corroborate every detail of that pursuit and capture upon the films.
"And believe me, Mr. Mink," I added, my voice trembling with emotion, "no
Academician is likely to go to sleep when I illustrate my address with
such pictures as you are now about to take!"
"The police might pull the show," he suggested.
"No," said I, "Science is already immune; art is becoming so. Only nature
need fear the violence of prejudice; and doubtless she will continue to
wear pantalettes and common-sense nighties as long as our great republic
endures."
I unslung my field-glasses, adjusted them and took a penetrating squint
at the hillside above.
Nothing stirred up there except a buzzard or two wheeling on tip-curled
pinions above the palms.
Presently Mink inquired whether I had "lamped" anything, and I replied
that I had not.
"They may be snoozin' in their caves," he suggested. "But don't you fret,
old top; you'll get what's comin' to you and I'll get mine."
"About that check--" I began and hesitated.
"Sure. What about it?"
"I suppose I'm to give it to you when the first cave-woman appears."
"That's what!"
I pondered the matter for a while in silence. I could see no risk in
paying him this draft on sight.
"All right," I said. "Bring on your cave-dwellers."
Hour succeeded hour, but no cave-dwellers came down to the pool to drink.
We ate luncheon--a bit of cold duck, some koonti-bread, and a dish of
palm-cabbage. I smoked an inexpensive cigar; Mink lit a more pretentious
one. Afterward he played on his concertina at my suggestion on the chance
that the music might lure a cave-girl down the hill. Nymphs were
sometimes caught that way, and modern science seems to be reverting more
and more closely to the simpler truths of the classics which, in our
ignorance and arrogance, we once dismissed as fables unworthy of
scientific notice.
[Illustration: "He played on his concertina ... on the chance that the
music might lure a cave-girl down the hill."]
However this Broadway faun piped in vain: no white-footed dryad came
stealing through the ferns to gaze, perhaps to dance to the concertina's
plaintive melodies.
So after a while he put his concertina into his pocket, cocked his derby
hat on one side, gathered his little bandy legs under his person, and
squatted there in silence, chewing the wet and bitter end of his extinct
cigar.
Toward mid-afternoon I unslung my field-glasses again and surveyed the
hill.
At first I noticed nothing, not even a buzzard; then, of a sudden, my
attention was attracted to something moving among the fern-covered slabs
of coquina just above where we lay concealed--a slim, graceful shape half
shadowed under a veil of lustrous hair which glittered like gold in the
sun.
"Mink!" I whispered hoarsely. "One of them is coming! This--this indeed
is the stupendous and crowning climax of my scientific career!"
His comment was incredibly coarse: "Gimme the dough," he said without a
tremor of surprise. Indeed there was a metallic ring of menace in his low
and entirely cold tones as he laid one hand on my arm. "No welchin'," he
said, "or I put the whole show on the bum!"
The overwhelming excitement of the approaching crisis neutralized my
disgust; I fished out the certified check from my pocket and flung the
miserable scrap of paper at him. "Get your machine ready!" I hissed. "Do
you understand what these moments mean to the civilized world!"
"I sure do," he said.
Nearer and nearer came the lithe white figure under its glorious crown of
hair, moving warily and gracefully amid the great coquina slabs--nearer,
nearer, until I no longer required my glasses.
[Illustration: "Moving warily and gracefully amid the great coquina
slabs."]
She was a slender red-lipped thing, blue-eyed, dainty of hand and foot.
The spotted pelt of a wild-cat covered her, or attempted to.
I unfolded a large canvas sack as she approached the pool. For a moment
or two she stood gazing around her and her close-set ears seemed to be
listening. Then, apparently satisfied, she threw back her beautiful young
head and sent a sweet wild call floating back to the sunny hillside.
"Blub-blub!" rang her silvery voice; "blub-blub! Muck-a-muck!" And from
the fern-covered hollows above other voices replied joyously to her
reassuring call, "Blub-blub-blub!"
The whole bunch was coming down to drink--the entire remnant of a
prehistoric and almost extinct race of human creatures was coming to
quench its thirst at this water-hole. How I wished for James Barnes at
the camera's crank! He alone could do justice to this golden girl before
me.
One by one, clad in their simple yet modest gowns of pelts and garlands,
five exquisitively superb specimens of cave-girl came gracefully down to
the water-hole to drink.
Almost swooning with scientific excitement I whispered to the unspeakable
Mink: "Begin to crank as soon as I move!" And, gathering up my big canvas
sack I rose, and, still crouching, stole through the ferns on tip-toe.
They had already begun to drink when they heard me; I must have made some
slight sound in the ferns, for their keen ears detected it and they
sprang to their feet.
It was a magnificent sight to see them there by the pool, tense,
motionless, at gaze, their dainty noses to the wind, their beautiful eyes
wide and alert.
For a moment, enchanted, I remained spellbound in the presence of this
prehistoric spectacle, then, waving my sack, I sprang out from behind the
rock and cantered toward them.
Instead of scattering and flying up the hillside they seemed paralyzed,
huddling together as though to get into the picture. Delighted I turned
and glanced at Mink; he was cranking furiously.
With an uncontrollable shout of triumph and delight I pranced toward
the huddling cave-girls, arms outspread as though heading a horse or
concentrating chickens. And, totally forgetting the uselessness of
urbanity and civilized speech as I danced around that lovely but
terrified group, "Ladies!" I cried, "do not be alarmed, because I mean
only kindness and proper respect. Civilization calls you from the wilds!
Sentiment, pity, piety propel my legs, not the ruthless desire to injure
or enslave you! Ladies! You are under the wing of science. An
anthropologist is speaking to you! Fear nothing! Rather rejoice! Your
wonderful race shall be rescued from extinction--even if I have to do it
myself! Ladies, don't run!" They had suddenly scattered and were now
beginning to dodge me. "I come among you bearing the precious promises
of education, of religion, of equal franchise, of fashion!"
"Blub-blub!" they whimpered continuing to dodge me.
"Yes!" I cried in an excess of transcendental enthusiasm. "Blub-blub! And
though I do not comprehend the exquisite simplicity of your primeval
speech, I answer with all my heart, 'Blub-blub!'"
Meanwhile, they were dodging and eluding me as I chased first one, then
another, one hand outstretched, the other invitingly clutching the sack.
A hasty glance at Mink now and then revealed him industriously cranking
away.
Once I fell into the pool. That section of the film should never be
released, I determined, as I blew the water out of my mouth, gasped, and
started after a lovely, ruddy-haired cave-girl whose curiosity had led
her to linger beside the pool in which I was floundering.
But run as fast as I could and skip hither and thither with all the
agility I could muster I did not seem to be able to seize a single
cave-girl.
Every few minutes, baffled and breathless, I rested; and they always
clustered together uttering their plaintively musical "blub-blub," not
apparently very much afraid of me, and even exhibiting curiosity. Now and
then they cast glances toward Mink who was grinding away steadily, and I
could scarcely retain a shout of joy as I realized what wonderful
pictures he was taking. Indeed luck seemed to be with me, so far, for
never once did these beautiful prehistoric creatures retire out of
photographic range.
But otherwise the problem was becoming serious. I could not catch one of
them; they eluded me with maddening swiftness and grace; my pauses to
recover my breath became more frequent.
At last, dead beat, I sat down on a slab of coquina. And when I was able
to articulate I turned around toward Mink.
"You'll have to drop your camera and come over and help me," I panted.
"I'm all in!"
"Not quite," he said.
For a moment I did not understand him; then under my outraged eyes, and
within the hearing of my horrified ears a terrible thing occurred.
"Now, ladies!" yelled Mink, "all on for the fine-ally! Up-stage there,
you red-headed little spot-crabber! Mabel! Take the call! Now smile the
whole bloomin' bunch of you!"
What was he saying? I did not comprehend. I stared dully at the six
cave-girls as they grouped themselves in a semi-circle behind me.
Then, as one of them came up and unfolded a white strip of cloth behind
my head, the others drew from concealed pockets in their kilts of
cat-fur, little silk flags of all nations and began to wave them.
Paralyzed I turned my head. On the strip of white cloth, which the
tallest cave-girl was holding directly behind my head, was printed in
large black letters: