While his followers3 were thus engaged, the burly Mousterian chieftain withdrew to the neighboring stream to cool his heated brow and rest himself. The chase had been a hard one but he was in rare humor nevertheless. His dart4 had been the first to reach its mark; and after the long chase, his ax had dealt the finishing stroke. As he sat upon the bank gazing at the water below him, his thoughts were rudely disturbed by a loud “Hi-yo!” coming from across the stream. He looked up and saw a man standing5 on the opposite bank. The stranger shouted again and waved an arm. The hunters now came running up to obtain a better view of the newcomer.
“Who is it?” asked one.
“If I had not with my own eyes seen him fall a victim to the Mammoth6 and Rhinoceros7, I would say it was the Ape Boy,” said another.
[249]
The burly chief glared fiercely at the one who had just spoken.
“Ape Boy? Bah! Let no man speak that name again if he values his own beast-hide. He is Pic, Killer8 of the Bison. Remember it well.”
“Killer of the Mammoth and Rhinoceros too,” added the man thus chided. “How else could he return to us alive?”
Meanwhile the stranger was wading9 and swimming across the stream. The hunters gazed at him in awe10 as he drew nearer and nearer. He emerged at last, climbed the bank and shook the dripping water from his body.
“Do the dead live again?” asked the amazed chieftain. “Or do I see before me, one greater than the mighty11 Mammoth?”
Pic merely grinned. “The Mammoth? Agh; no matter. I drove him and the other beast away. But enough of them. Tell your men to step back. I have something which you alone should see.”
The chieftain shouted a command and in a moment his followers were hustling12 back to their business about the dead buck.
Pic squatted13 upon his haunches and took a deep breath. He held a packet of rabbit-skin in his hand.
“Since leaving you, my days were spent alone upon the Rock,” he began.
“Alone? Why?” the chieftain demanded.
[250]
“I was—um-m—sick.” Pic suddenly remembered the half-healed wound in his thigh14. He did look a bit thin and haggard. Hard work and light eating had left their marks.
“Bah!” The chieftain was again gazing dreamily at the water. His brows were contracted in deep thought. He seemed to have forgotten the other’s presence.
“While I was—um—sick,” Pic began, “I spent my time making something for you to see.” He glanced at the Cave-men who were now engaged in skinning the dead buck, then held out the packet of rabbit fur. The chieftain took a quick sidelong glance, then looked away.
“Ugh,” was all he said.
Pic rolled back a fold of the packet, meanwhile watching the other closely from the corners of his eyes. A large flint blade was disclosed—a skinning knife. In form and finish, it was a gem15.
The chieftain lost his far-away look. He began to fidget. His mouth watered as he observed that which lay so temptingly within his reach. He made a supreme16 effort to conceal17 his true feelings; but flesh and blood could not—would not—stand the strain. He gasped18, turned quickly and pointed19 to the skinning-blade.
“That flint you hold—Agh! Let me see it.”
Pic’s blood surged through his veins20 like molten steel. With difficulty, he stilled the exultation[251] raging within him and preserved his appearance of outward calm. Without a word, he handed the flint to his companion who seized it eagerly and ran his thumb along one edge.
“It is indeed a treasure,” he exclaimed. “Never have I seen the like. Would you part with it?”
To conceal his bubbling joy, Pic now drew a long face.
“Part with it?” he exclaimed in tones of well-feigned astonishment21. “Then I would have nothing—unless you chose to give me something in return.”
The chieftain chuckled22 inwardly at this shrewd suggestion. “My share of the buck, how would that suit you? I would give even that for such a flint as this. What say you? A haunch of venison? You have been ill. The meat will make you strong.”
But Pic merely shook his head.
“A hide; one, two, three,” the Mousterian leader held up one finger after another but without increasing the other’s interest a single whit23. “Here is an odd fellow,” he thought to himself. “Nothing appears to please him. He is our best warrior24 and may well give me the worst of it if I fight him for the flint.” He wrinkled his brows, much perplexed25. He could make one more offer, such as it was and if that failed, a combat was unavoidable, for he was determined26 to keep the blade now that it was in his possession.
[252]
“The flint I must have,” he growled27. “I will offer you something else—a woman.”
The youth’s manner changed in a flash. He raised his head and squared his shoulders. “Agreed; the flint is yours. I take the girl—she who so narrowly escaped death on the butcher block.”
The Mousterian leader was astounded28. He had not expected such quick and ready response. He now recalled Pic’s interest in the young woman and already repented29 his offer. “Oho,” he thought; “What a calf30 I was;” and his face assumed such a cunning expression, Pic saw in a moment that he had overplayed his hand.
“Ugh! Not so fast,” he remonstrated31; “The girl is my daughter and the daughter of a chief cannot be had for nothing. One flint is not enough.”
Pic’s eyes opened wide; then scowled32 angrily. He unfolded the packet once more. The chieftain’s face brightened. He was gazing upon a second superb flint—a tool for scraping and dressing33 hides. Although differing in design, it was as fine in form and finish as the first. It was on his lips to say “Agreed,” and close the deal at once but he checked himself just in time. The packet—as he observed—was not yet empty.
“No; not even the two are enough,” he growled. Pic unrolled the packet the third time, then held the rabbit-skin dangling34 from his fingers to show that his limit was reached. The last flint—an ax-blade[253] with edges hewn straight and keen—was a marvellous creation. As in a dream, the chieftain stared and wondered, while Pic strove to drive home his bargain.
“The knife, scraper, ax; all are yours,” he said determinedly35. “I take the girl. Quick, your answer. If they are not enough, I will make them so and with my bare hands”; and he squared back with his arms outstretched as though prepared to fly at the other’s throat.
A great commotion36 ensued among those gathered about the dead buck. The Cave-men dropped their work and came crowding around the pair. A contest between two such skilled warriors37 would be worth going far to see.
The chieftain hesitated. His eyes flashed fire but the rage within his heart was ebbing38 fast. Through his mind, ran thoughts of advantages to be gained by an alliance with this young warrior, hunter and maker39 of wonderful flints. He observed his followers closing in about them. “I did but wish to try his mettle,” he cried loudly, then lowered his weapon.
Growls40 of disapproval41 greeted this peaceful termination of what promised to be a combat well worth the watching. The Mousterian leader silenced them with a fierce look.
“The bargain is made,” he roared; “There shall be no blood-letting between us. Let him who objects, stand forth42.”
[254]
The sight of his burly figure and savage43 looks was sufficient to repress further argument. None stood forth; nobody objected.
“What bargain?” shouted a voice.
The chieftain’s fierce mien44 suddenly changed. He produced his three flints and held them in his hand so that all could see. A chorus of astonished grunts45 arose as the Cave-men crowded forward and examined the wonderful blades.
“Who owns them? From where did they come?” one of the men asked.
“I own them,” the chief answered proudly. “They are the price that he who killed the Bison, chooses to pay for the girl, my daughter.”
Every pair of eyes turned inquiringly—some compassionately—upon him who could thus squander46 his wealth so recklessly. Pic felt overwhelmed with embarrassment47 by the publicity48 so suddenly thrust upon him. He saw nothing but a sea of eyes and leering faces.
“Who made them?” demanded one of the Cave-men. “Would that all of us had flints like these.”
Pic glowed with pleasure as he heard these words. They gave him courage to unburden his heart and speak of what was in his mind. “I made them,” he said and then as all stared in wonder and held their peace, he went on:
“For many days have I sought the lost art of retouching hammered flints. We men have grown[255] careless with our flint-working. We have become sluggish49. We sit back to rot in caves or starve, simply for the lack of fitting tools and weapons to kill and dress our food. I know now how they may be made. Those”—he pointed to the three pieces in the chieftain’s hands—“are my first—the new patterns chipped straight and keen—on both sides.”
Pic’s hearers were now rapidly recovering from their first astonishment. By this time, they were ready to believe anything of this remarkable50 youth. Had he produced a pair of wings and flown away, they would have been surprised no doubt; but one and all would have accepted it as a matter of course.
“If you made these, you can make more,” suggested one of the Cave-men.
“Arrah; he can thus serve us even better than by taking his part in the hunt!” said another.
Pic fairly beamed. His first efforts to revive the lost art were tested and adjudged an unqualified success. A thought of the future flashed through his mind.
“To make blades like these, I will need many flint lumps,” he said. “If you gather them I will have more time for my work.”
The burly chieftain nodded approval.
“My men will supply them,” he generously agreed. “The stone will be forthcoming if you make the tools.”
Pic shut one eye and grinned in the other’s face.[256] His future career as a business man was rapidly shaping itself.
“I will need food and hides as well,” he shrewdly suggested. “Perhaps your men will supply them too.”
The Mousterian leader cocked his head thoughtfully on one side. He began to see that neither he nor his followers were to be furnished new tools and weapons unless they gave something in return. Far from resenting Pic’s shrewdness, he congratulated himself on having established close relations between himself and this remarkable youth. Raw flint was plentiful51 enough. Sharper, finer weapons, meant more meat and hides—more fruitful hunting. He and his followers could meet Pic on his own terms.
“Agreed,” he said. All nodded assent52; and Bargain Number Two was closed.
The hide and severed53 portions of the slain54 buck were now raised on half a dozen pairs of brawny55 shoulders; and with Pic in their midst, bearing himself like a returning conqueror56, the Cave-men of Ferrassie returned across the meadows to the overhanging cliffs.
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1
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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3
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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5
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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6
mammoth
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| n.长毛象；adj.长毛象似的，巨大的 | |
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7
rhinoceros
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| n.犀牛 | |
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8
killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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9
wading
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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10
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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12
hustling
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| 催促（hustle的现在分词形式） | |
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13
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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14
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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15
gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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16
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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17
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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18
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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19
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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21
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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22
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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24
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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27
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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28
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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29
repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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31
remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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32
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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34
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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35
determinedly
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| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
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36
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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37
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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38
ebbing
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的现在分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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39
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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40
growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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41
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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42
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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43
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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44
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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45
grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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46
squander
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| v.浪费，挥霍 | |
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47
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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48
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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49
sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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50
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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51
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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52
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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53
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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54
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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55
brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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56
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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