George Langford

“ It was that of the Rhinoceros, sure enough, and it led back to the river.
“Wow, how unfortunate; he must have escaped us,” laughed the Cave Hyena, inwardly rejoicing.
“Let not that worry you,” Grun Waugh retorted. “You will have your fill of fighting when we overtake the Mammoth.”
“Ow!” yowled Crocut, and then he shut up like a clam.
“The Rhinoceros has turned tail,” thought Grun Waugh. “He came here and then went back again. I am glad of that. One less; so much the easier for us. The Rhinoceros is the worst of the lot—when he is mad.” ”

“ With arms clamped around his rival’s midriff, and face beneath the hetman’s chin beyond the reach of tearing fingers and snapping bull-teeth, he held him as in an iron vise, from which there was no escape. The Mousterian made not a sound. He did not seem to even move, but slowly the Castillan giant’s head with nose and mouth gushing blood, fell back. A dull crunch, and before the cave-men realized what had happened, their chieftain was borne to the edge of the rock-platform and cast down among them, a bloody, lifeless thing. In a flash, Pic recovered his ax and was again upon the defensive. ”

“ Kutnar saw. His heart had ceased palpitating. He no longer trembled. His body was as cold as ice. “That man must die,” he said for the last time. The thong hissed. Every ounce of strength in the guiding muscles followed the stone in its flight and sent it whizzing to the mark.
Gonch doubled up. His feet jerked convulsively as the death-messenger crashed into his ribs. His hands had already found anchorage. He might have pulled himself to the top, had not the sling-stone bid him halt. ”

“ Thus cautioned, the Castillan tyro selected his best stone and placed it carefully in the cleft end of his fling-stick. Kutnar did not hesitate, even though this was his first test in single combat. In a moment he saw what was expected of him. Quick as lightning, he unwound the thong from his waist and set a pebble in place.
“Good,” muttered Gonch between his clenched teeth. “The boy bears himself like a true warrior. I would be his friend if I could be anyone’s. No man, young or old, lives who can best him at his own game.” ”

“ The man was still alive although badly mauled. “Friends should ever help each other,” ran through Kutnar’s brain as he bent over the unfortunate and wiped the blood from his face with a bunch of leaves. Not that the man was his particular friend, but his heart was filled with pity at sight of a fellow-being in distress. Suddenly he was dragged to his feet and thrust roughly aside. He turned and faced Gonch.
“Stand back, boy; do not meddle,” cried the Muskman and then before Kutnar knew what his friend was about, the latter despatched the wounded man with a blow of his ax. ”

“ Kutnar was deadly calm. His thoughts surging one upon another were those of a sane and sober mind. But with all his illusions shattered, the child was become a man. He now knew that all of the southland wonders were the Muskman’s lies. There were no fine flints, no weapon-making; the men might have been wolves except for their human forms which however made their wretchedness and cannibalism even more beast-like in his eyes. So low had they fallen that they must needs depend upon himself, a mere boy, to feed them ”

“ Kutnar braced his legs, secured a firm foothold and whirled his sling. Gonch trembled. He could almost feel the pebble striking his skull with deadly precision. He faltered, tossed the stone wildly and fled in a panic up the wall behind him. The boy dodged the stone as it fell but now the Muskman was beyond effective throwing range and so Kutnar ceased whirling his sling and followed after. “The traitor must die,” repeated itself over and over in his mind and drove out all thought of himself, a stripling pitted against a full-grown man. ”

“ Gonch had seen many a horse, bison or ox in a similar predicament, but never had it been his good fortune to come upon an elephant so caught.
“Pic’s friend; so much the better,” he sneered. At the sound of his voice the Mammoth became quiet. In his terror he had not before perceived the man squatting beside him. He squealed plaintively as much as to say: “Friends should ever help each other,” and stood waiting, trembling and expectant. Gonch never moved, but grinned fiendishly at the great beast begging for assistance. He gathered a handful of dirt and threw it in the Mammoth’s face. ”

“ Gonch ran across the ledge and looked over. The two human figures were rapidly descending the cliffs, lowering their bodies from rock to rock by the combined use of their supple hands and feet. Kutnar was as agile and sure-footed as a chamois and Pic was not far behind him. So swift was their descent, that it seemed only a moment before they had reached the bottom and were dashing up the valley.
Gonch suddenly uttered an astonished yell. He rubbed the moisture from his eyes to make sure he saw what he thought he saw. Man and boy were charging upon the beasts at top speed. ”

“ Not for an instant would he permit the Cave Lion to enter shallow water and rest himself.
“Go away,” roared Grun Waugh. “We will not hurt you this time, provided you stand aside and let us pass.”
“Pass where?” asked Wulli in his blandest manner. “Your home is behind you. You are going the wrong way.”
“And you will not stand aside?”
“Not if I can help it,” replied the Rhinoceros. “You do not belong here. Go home and take your hyenas back with you.”
Scrag nearly had a fit as he heard himself thus insulted. To be classed as a hyena was more than he could bear. ”

“ Gonch sensed the approaching storm. He grasped desperately at a straw. “Weapon Maker?” he whispered looking carefully around him as though he were about to impart some deep-dyed mystery. “You ask for him who makes the fine blades? Pst! he is here.”
“The Lion Man?” roared Totan, leaping to his feet and snatching at his club. “Where?”
“Son of the Lion Man, you mean,” corrected Gonch. “It is my little secret. He makes the fine weapons even better than his father. What a prize; a hunter and flint-worker, all in one.” ”

“ Gonch was not dead although a few moments more of Kutnar’s throttling grip would have made him so beyond question. Some men are hard to kill. Gonch was of that kind. Even as he lay, to all appearances, stiff and stark, the life-blaze flickered feebly, gathered fresh strength and flared up. His chest heaved, he uttered a deep sigh, then groaned and opened his eyes. ”

“ The Muskman yet clung to the coping fluttering like a wounded bird. Slowly his head fell back and turned so that he could see over his right shoulder. His face blanched, his eyes started from their sockets at sight of the vast emptiness beneath him. Gradually his grip relaxed. He made a last effort for one more moment of sweet life, then with a despairing screech, down he fell. His body shot along the face of the Scarp until it encountered a rugged projection which sent it bounding clear of the rock-wall. ”

“ Three men all carrying heavy burdens were ascending the causeway to the cave-threshold, while above, stood a fourth, waiting as though to receive them. He was a large man of mighty chest and shoulders and yet neither overfleshed nor muscle-bound but fibred and corded from neck to heel like a fight-trained lion. The newcomers were big strong men but he who stood upon the ledge seemed a giant beside them. They greeted him with a certain deference that marked the larger man as a person of more than ordinary importance. ”

“ One by one the cave-men retired to Castillo’s yawning entrance and curled up in their hide-wrappings to secure their night’s rest. All were gone but two—the boy and Gonch.
“You who perform one task so well, can bear another,” the Muskman sneered. “Watch the fire, and watch it well until the light returns. Do not fall asleep or it will be the worse for you.”
These were Gonch’s parting instructions and then he too lay down in the cave-entrance. Kutnar smiled bitterly. Another task was now added to his already overburdened shoulders; one that no man dared neglect. ”

“ Kutnar’s nostrils had caught the offensive beast odor. He detached himself from the other’s arms and turned away his head.
“Is my best friend offended by the smell of my panther and hyena killing?” Gonch asked in a hurt voice. “Perhaps I did but a poor service when once I saved you from death.”
On being thus reminded of his debt, Kutnar experienced a wave of remorse. He clung tightly to his friend and buried his face in his chest. “Agh, you did well,” he whispered earnestly. “What you have done for me makes the odor sweet. I will not have you leave me alone. We will go together.” ”

“ He stood with arms folded, watching and shouting commands, but offering to take no more active part where he considered himself so little needed. Gonch observed Totan’s inaction. The time had come when he might rid himself of his two worst enemies at one fell stroke. He leaned far out from the rock-wall and howled furiously: “He has come as I promised. Up and strike before another wins the glory. It is Pic, the Lion Man himself.”
The giant hetman bristled as he heard. The blood of the pit-fighter surged through his veins like molten steel. ”

“ When they arrived at Castillo and Totan learned of Kutnar’s success, he was mightily pleased. “If the boy can thus shame our best hunters, what could not the grown men of his tribe do?” he thought. This reminded him of the Lion Man and he revelled in the thought of what would happen if the latter would only come within his reach.
The Muskman’s star was again in the ascendancy. The boy had been tried and found all that any hunter could wish. Were these men jealous of his prowess? Certainly not. No half-starved beast or human being looks askance at the hand that feeds it. ”

“ Hyenas were too cowardly to attack him and lynxes, which usually hunted singly, he looked upon as a fair match because of his flint-ax; a formidable weapon in the hands of a strong and courageous man. Gonch was a strong and courageous man who feared no beast nor human being, Totan alone excepted. His knowledge of woodcraft, powers of scent, sight and hearing were a match for any animal. ”

“ Men went about in small bands as a rule and rarely ventured far from their caves. And yet knowing all this, the Muskman was determined to carry out the bold project he had planned.
His equipment consisted of a hide, a wooden javelin with fire-hardened point and a flint-ax. The latter, his main reliance, was his recently acquired blade bound to a long wooden haft. He had spent much time upon this his masterpiece. “No man with such a weapon need starve,” he calculated. Had Gonch thought otherwise, he would never have considered making the journey. ”

“ When Pic arrived at the foot of the declivity he found a perfectly dead bear. The crushing weight of the boulder and the long [183] battering journey down the steep incline had made an end of the beast for all time.
It was a magnificent animal, bulging with winter fat and the finest of heavy fur. Pic looked down upon it and sighed. Bears in general interested him and appealed to his gentler nature; bluff and ungainly and so different from skulking flesh-eaters. The beast had died without a chance to defend himself. Pic’s triumph was tinged with profound regret ”

“ The cave-men came swarming up the slope in a wide semi-circle, baying like hounds. Gradually the wings of the line converged as those on the two extreme ends rushed toward each other. Those in the center drew closer together and moved forward to meet the wings. Thus the human net slowly contracted upon its prey—Kutnar the boy, and Pic, hetman and weapon maker of the Mousterians. ”

“ The big cat was in the very act of launching itself upon the lad when a loud yell made it pause. The next moment, a man with uplifted ax bounded down the rock-wall and dashed upon the beast. A terrific commotion ensued as the cave-men seized their weapons and leaped to their feet shouting and yelling. They saw the newcomer charge into the bushes. A giant cat’s head and shoulders rose up to meet him and in a jiffy, man and panther were struggling to the death. ”

“ The giant flint-worker turned and stood over the sleeping man. His right hand was tightly clenched, concealing what might be within it. Gonch neither moved nor opened his eyes. Had he been—or rather appeared—wide awake, doubtless Pic would have greeted him with a smile. Mere curiosity is not an evil trait nor does it arouse mistrust. But this curiosity which dissembled, aroused Pic’s misgivings. ”

“ The human derrick was strained almost to the breaking point and still it continued to propel itself skyward. Not until Kutnar reached an unusually deep shelf which gave him more than standing room, did he pause even for a moment; then he halted and looked up. The Muskman stood waiting above him. Kutnar could see his open red mouth and white teeth. Gonch’s face wore an expression of cruel [214] eagerness such as a panther wears when about to spring from the tree branches upon a fawn passing beneath. ”

“ Now he had no friends, for the one man whom he had trusted and befriended was a cannibal and traitor doubly vile. He returned to Castillo with the others and chose a spot by the fire as far removed from Gonch as possible and sat there staring vacantly into the blaze. The shades of night settled over the mountain and still he sat motionless, oblivious to what was going on about him. ”

“ A chorus of astonished grunts arose. Kutnar [135] heard the sound of bare feet scraping on the ledge behind him. He looked around and saw the giant hetman.
“Well done,” growled the Castillan leader. “Even though it were a lucky stroke, a boy who can use a toy like that must be good for something. And yet you are but a child. The Mammoth Man is not a child.” As he said this, he scowled at Gonch who was standing near. The latter made haste to divert his chieftain’s mind.
“The boy is a skilled hunter,” he explained. “He can kill food enough for a dozen men. If you do not believe, try him.” ”

“ On the way back, Gonch’s opinion of Kutnar and his sling had undergone a profound change. It was a boy’s weapon but one which a grown man could respect. The youth’s skill with it was beyond the stretch of one’s imagination. “The lad is a marvel,” thought Gonch. “He has killed enough food for a [40] dozen men,” and he had a wholesome respect after that, not only for the fling-string as he called it, but the arm and eye that could send the pebble so straight and swiftly to its mark. ”

“ At sunrise the next day, he stood at the cave-mouth [7] fully equipped for his perilous undertaking. He warmed himself by the fire which burned at the threshold. This was to be the last time he did so for many a long day. Fire meant health and comfort; more than that, frequently it was all that stood between the cave-men and death. Men treasured it even more than they did their lives. Gonch was now leaving his one and only true friend: the fire that blazed upon the cave-hearth.
Every Castillan was on hand to bid the Muskman farewell. ”