Part 4

The sudden attack of the Cave Beasts fell upon the Mammoth like lightning from a clear sky. In a moment he perceived his danger. Retreat was impossible before such active enemies; further advance equally so. Above and in front of him, crouched the Lion and Lioness while the Hyena and Cave Wolf hovered upon his flanks. The slightest misstep would have sent him tumbling down the slope. Finding himself unable to watch all of his enemies at once, he ignored the Wolf and Hyena and devoted his entire attention to the pair of big cats snarling and roaring above his head.

This left his rear entirely exposed. The Cave Wolf, a gaunt long-legged brute of almost bear-like size, now dashed in and attempted to seize the Mammoth’s hind leg. This move might have brought about Hairi’s undoing had it succeeded. A moment’s distraction,—a turn of the head would have exposed his neck and shoulder to the two furies in front. But the Wolf’s cunning strategy was met by the prompt action of one whom until this time the Cave Beasts had entirely ignored.

A squat, powerful figure suddenly darted from behind the Mammoth and faced the Cave Wolf with all teeth bared and eyes flashing like coals of fire from the bottom of two deep pits. It was Pic the Ape Boy, his face distorted with furious rage. Like a flash, he sprang between the Mammoth and Wolf and before the latter could close in, he had seized a jagged rock and raised it threateningly aloft. The huge Wolf snarled and gnashed his teeth, but he advanced no farther.

In spite of this diversion, the Mammoth was in a truly desperate plight. He seemed to have lost all power of resistance. The Hyena now sought to turn the scale by stealing around upon the Ape Boy from behind. The Mammoth observed and gave up all hope. Surrounded by enemies and unable to employ his great weight and strength to any advantage, he raised his head like one drowning and bellowed in his dire distress:

“Wulli! Help! Oh Wulli!”

From his refuge in the grotto, the Rhinoceros heard; and the call for aid changed the trend of his thoughts like magic. Hairi, his partner, was being hard pressed by a horde of Cave Beasts seeking to destroy him. In an instant, all enmity for the Mammoth fled from his breast. He proceeded to act. With a bound, he cleared the grotto and bore down upon the Cave Beasts in a furious charge, thundering, roaring, squealing, tail straight out behind and the fire of battle in his eyes.

All heard, saw and felt him coming. The Mammoth groaned as he espied the strange figure—supposedly some new enemy—speeding across the ledge; then his heart gave a great leap as Wulli completed his meteoric dash and halted on the edge of the terrace with a jolt that shook the rock.

His dramatic arrival threw consternation into the ranks of the Cave Beasts. The Hyena fled in terror and the Wolf raced down the slope lickety-split with his tail between his legs. Grun Waugh growled angrily at the sudden turn of affairs. As he crouched with tail lashing from side to side, the eyes of the Rhinoceros fell upon him. Wulli uttered a shrill squeal and charged with the swiftness of thought. The Cave Lion took one look at the oncoming horn and waited to see no more. With a blood-curdling screech, he sped along the ledge like a streak of yellow light with the Rhinoceros at his heels. For an instant it seemed as though he must surely be impaled upon the horn threatening his rear. The fear of such a catastrophe lent him wings. A fresh burst of speed and his lead was increased to a more comfortable margin. All his dignity was cast aside in a frantic effort to put the greatest possible space between his hindquarters and the Rhino’s horn. He reached the edge of the terrace and shot down the slope never stopping until all possibility of his being overtaken was beyond the shadow of a doubt.

On seeing the uselessness of further pursuit, Wulli came to a sudden halt. A sedge-tuft protruding from a crevice, chanced to catch his eye and he proceeded to nibble it with an air of the utmost unconcern. The battle was over.

The Mammoth now mounted the terrace followed by the Ape Boy. Both gazed at the Rhinoceros in amazement.

“Owk, owk; wonderful!” the big Elephant bellowed. “Never have I seen anything more wonderful than the way you made Grun Waugh run.”

Wulli said nothing. With most becoming modesty, he continued to bite at the tuft before him; but he was thinking. In his mind, glowed the spark of an almost forgotten purpose; of wrongs unavenged, as he watched his partner out of one eye. Then with brows contracted and nostrils swelling ominously, he turned and advanced upon the Mammoth.

Hairi sensed the approaching storm. His trained eye noted the lowered horn and his partner’s determined air. He became confused and stood staring like one in a trance, too helpless to move.

Slowly the Rhinoceros advanced until his horn was almost beneath the Mammoth’s chest. One quick upward thrust and the affair would be quickly ended. He paused and Hairi awaited the fatal stroke, his limbs paralyzed with horror.

Suddenly a dark figure sprang between the pair. It was the Ape Boy. His body almost touched the tip of Wulli’s horn.

“Back, pig-beast,” he howled. “Would you dare touch the Mammoth? You have gone mad.”

The Rhinoceros raised his head and retreated a step. The amazement, now shown in every line of his face, was a picture to see.

“You?” he gasped and choked.

“Yes, I.”

“Can you; will you fight?” the Rhinoceros demanded eagerly.

“I can and will. You shall see.”

“Good,” Wulli grunted. “When you are ready, begin.”

“But I have no weapon,” said the Ape Boy. “You have a horn; I nothing. Will you fight fair?”

The Rhinoceros nodded. The youth was making for the grotto when Wulli stopped him.

“That red beast with the hot breath?” he grumbled. “No; you must fight with something else. I have had enough of its bad smell.”

“I will fight you with ax and dart,” replied the other angrily. “They lie on the cave-floor. Are you afraid?”

Wulli stepped back. Pic entered the grotto and reappeared in a moment bearing in his right hand a flint ax-head bound in a stout wooden haft. Several darts tipped with sharp-pointed flakes were in his left. Such were the Ape Boy’s weapons—the stone-ax and short stabbing spear—and not to be despised when a bold heart and powerful arm were behind them.

He laid the darts on the rock platform and took a position upon the edge of the terrace with ax swung over his right shoulder.

“I am ready; now begin,” and he waited for the Rhinoceros to attack.

Wulli aroused himself with a start. This was to be a duel to the death—no light affair,—touch, scratch and both satisfied. Rarely did he so bungle in his work. He lowered his horn, squared his legs and then found himself unable to proceed. That Ape Boy was so deadly calm and looked at him so strangely out of his deep-set eyes. Wulli felt sobered, awed. He would have welcomed violence; but those eyes chilled his marrow. He made one last effort to lash himself into a frenzy but it was no use. His eyes sought the ground; his tail hung limp like a wet string.

“Umph,” he grunted; “I will not fight one who must stay on the ground because somebody has pulled off his tail.”

Pic’s eyes opened wide.

“Who says that?” he growled in a hoarse voice.

“Grun Waugh—and I say it because it makes you angry. ‘Once you had a tail and jumped about in the trees;’ he said that too.”

Pic was fast losing his temper, a fact which now put the Rhinoceros in the best of humor.

“Ape-beast hiding in a man’s skin,” he sniffed. “The Lioness said that.”

“Agh! What more?” The Ape Boy’s eyes blazed.

“Umph,” grunted Wulli. “Ask Grun Waugh. He and his pack have gone to the grotto of Sha Pall. The Wolf told him of a lone man who lived there.”

“A lone man? Whoow! Hardly a fair match is four cave-beasts against one lone man.” Pic’s rage softened as he thought of a fellow-being set upon by such overwhelming odds.

“A poor match indeed,” Wulli admitted. “He was sick too—the Man was. The Wolf said so.”

“Sick and alone?”

“Yes and he was blind in one eye. I heard the Wolf say that too.”

“What—blind?” Pic gripped his ax-handle until the wood creaked. “What more did the Wolf say?”

“Nothing more,” Wulli replied. “But the Hyena seemed to know who the man was—an old man with grey hair; a leader of other men. He was asking Grim Waugh’s leave to go and visit the grotto of Sha Pell and pay his respects to the lone man who was old, sick and blind in——”

“Agh, ar-rr-ah-h!” With a hair-raising yell the Ape Boy fairly hurled himself from the ledge and shot down the slope leading to the valley. The Mammoth and Rhinoceros stood motionless, speechless with amazement as they watched the flying figure grow smaller and smaller and finally disappear among the clefts and boulders far below.

VII

The days passed. They grew into weeks, months, and meanwhile the Rock of Moustier remained bare and deserted. The visits of the Mammoth and Rhinoceros grew less and less frequent until finally they ceased altogether. Apparently the Ape Bay had left his home never to return.

It was the Irish Elk who one day came dashing up to inform Hairi and Wulli of his narrow escape from a pack of cave-beasts who had sprung out upon him as he journeyed through the hill country. They were gathered in front of a grotto. A man was standing in the entrance fighting them off with a stone tied to a stick. He was standing behind a pile of something which gave off thick white clouds. The mention of white clouds set the Mammoth and Rhinoceros to thinking. They knew of but one who fought that way. As they glanced at each other, the same thought was in the minds of both.

“Whenever you are ready,” said Wulli and so off they went. The hill country lay to the east. It was after a long walk that, at a signal from the Mammoth, both stopped to listen. In the distance sounded a confused babel of howls and roars.

“Cave-beasts,” muttered Hairi and they moved on again. The sounds grew louder and more distinct—barks and roars of beasts among which a peculiar hoarse cry could be plainly heard. A hill rose up before them. A path wound and disappeared around its base. The two friends followed this and on rounding the hill, were confronted by a remarkable scene.

The path led to a grotto in the hillside. In front of the grotto, tiny smoke-wreaths arose from a fire’s last smouldering embers. Behind the heap of ashes, crouched a man almost in the cave-entrance, whirling a flint-ax above his head and shouting at the top of his lungs. Before him glided Grun Waugh, the Hyena and other beasts of prey awaiting their chance to spring. The Cave Man’s fierce attitude alone held them at bay, now that they had lost all fear of the rapidly fading fire. His manner was no less animal-like than that of the savage beasts gathered about him. His bared teeth, blazing eyes and furious howls were enough to make even the Cave Lion hold back dismayed. Deprived of the protection of his fast-dying fire, he raged and tore in such wild frenzy that none dared rush in and grapple with a creature so furious and desperate.

For an instant, the Mammoth and Rhinoceros looked on dismayed by the terrible sight. But there was no mistaking that squat, powerful frame nor the face even when distorted by fiendish rage. The mad fury was their former acquaintance, Pic the Ape Boy of Moustier.

It took the two friends but a moment to see how matters stood. The Ape Boy was in trouble—fighting for his life and in great need of their assistance. Side by side, they bore down upon the group; not in a blind charge but grimly determined and keeping close watch as they advanced.

The Hyena was the first to observe their approach. Skulking behind the others as was his custom and interested only in seeing that his line of retreat was kept open, he espied the oncoming pair and gave the alarm. With a howl of terror, he dashed off in the opposite direction and thus gave warning to his companions.

The Cave Beasts faced about like a flash. In their blind rage at finding themselves interfered with, matters looked dark for a moment. The Mammoth and Rhinoceros came grimly on, shoulder to shoulder like a pair of trained gladiators. Except for the Hyena now rapidly disappearing, the Cave Beasts, in their turn held firm.

But Hairi and Wulli were not to be denied. They meant business; not the wild hit-or-miss variety but the plain step-up-and-have-it-out kind. Even Grun Waugh found himself unequal to such a cold-blooded way of doing things. He stepped back. This was the signal for a general retirement. His companions abandoned their attack upon the Ape Boy and retreated along the hillside, followed by the Lion who never ceased snarling with baffled hate at being thus forced to give ground. At last with a parting screech he turned tail and crawled rapidly away after his more timid companions. As he disappeared in the thicket, Hairi called a halt:

“Enough; we may fall into an ambush and spoil all.”

So the pair turned back to the Ape Boy who was staring at them almost overcome with astonishment.

“Whoow!—where did you come from?” he finally managed to stammer.

“We came to see what all the noise meant,” Hairi replied. “Oomp! It is well for you, we did.”

“You arrived at just the right time,” said Pic. “A little later and you would have found Grun Waugh gnawing my bones.”

“Why did you leave us on the Rock without saying a word?” Hairi grumbled. “You have given us much worry and trouble.”

“He was vexed with Grun Waugh,” Wulli now put in. “Grun Waugh called him an Ape Boy—a little tree-beast without a tail, hiding in a man’s skin.”

For an instant, Pic glared at the Rhinoceros, then replied scornfully:

“Agh-h! I know now what the name means. None but enemies would so speak of me. But not because of that did I leave the Rock. It was to help him of whom the Hyena spoke—an old man living alone, sick and blind, in the grotto of Sha Pell. Cave-men will have none of a leader grown old and feeble. This one, their chief, was cast out to die. He came here and then—I came too. He was very sick. I took care of him. Then the Cave Beasts set upon us and I dared not leave him alone to hunt food and water and gather wood for my fire. This man is my father——”

“Father?—Good!” the Mammoth grunted approvingly. “Friends should ever help each other. But are you sure he was your father? I cannot see how you remembered him. I could not have done it. Perhaps I never had a father. Had you, Wulli?”

The Rhinoceros cocked his head and looked thoughtfully at the ground.

“Father? Oo-wee! I do not remember that I ever had one. I would not know him even if I saw him.”

“But I know mine,” said Pic. “He was my good friend too or I would never have come here to help him.”

“Where is he now?” asked Hairi gazing up and down the hillside.

“In the cave,” said Pic. “None of us can help him now. He is dying.”

Hairi and Wulli stepped to the grotto’s mouth and peered in. For a moment, they could see nothing; but as their eyes became adjusted to the darkness, they made out the form of a man stretched full length upon the floor. A pile of dried grass and leaves supported the head. A tattered fragment of bear-skin partly enveloped the body. The figure was that of an old man aged by disease and the nearness of death. His eyes were closed. Breath came and went in feeble irregular gasps. The wide-open mouth was burned and parched with wasting fever. Although reduced almost to a skeleton, the short, broad frame showed traces of a once gigantic strength. The protruding face, chinless jaws, eyes buried beneath heavy brows which merged into the low sloping forehead, were the same as those of the youth now bending over him.

“You see he is too sick to help himself,” Pic explained. “Once he was the best hunter and warrior in our whole band. But the sickness came upon him and when he was dying, his people—my people—drove him away. I kept the Cave Beasts from him but that was all I could do.”

His two hearers gazed intently into the sufferer’s face. They said nothing, only stared; too awed by the strange scene to speak a single word.

The whole group was like a strange bit of sculpture:—the grotto and its dying occupant; the Ape Boy crouched over the sick man; the two great brutes standing by awed and attentive; every figure motionless and rigid as though cast in bronze.

For a time, all was still and the Cave Man’s feeble gasps could be heard above the low breathing of the three silent spectators. Then the wasted chest heaved and the sick man slowly opened one eye. As it looked upon the Ape Boy’s face, a flash of color lighted the ghastly features and he strove to raise his head. An arm encircled his shoulders, and helped him to rise. He opened his mouth to speak; but the effort was too much and he sank back exhausted.

The Ape Boy’s body was now thrust between him and the light.

“Stand back,” Pic whispered to his companions. “He must not see you. He would be displeased to know that you are with me here.”

Hairi and Wulli retreated several paces. Both obeyed silently and without protest, for reasons they could not understand.

Slowly the blood returned to the sick man’s pallid face. Once more his one good eye opened and gazed at his son. As he struggled to rise, the latter’s powerful arm helped him into a sitting posture.

“I knew it,” the Cave Man muttered. “My boy is no traitor; friend of beasts, enemy of men. You fought the flesh-eaters—for your sick old father. I saw—and you fought well.”

These last words were spoken in a scarcely audible whisper—a last outpouring of fast-failing strength. But with his expiring breath, the dying man’s will-power thrust aside, for a moment, the hand of death and summoned strength for words too weighty to be borne unspoken to the grave.

“Listen,” he gasped. “I am not ungrateful. The treasure—it is yours. High on the mountain side—buried in the cave floor—near the entrance,—beneath a stone.” The voice became stilled, the eyes closed and the body fell back heavily. The Ape Boy bent low with one ear against the shrivelled chest. Eyes and mouth remained staring, wide-open, but the heart beats were stilled forever. Death had finally come to free the Cave Man from his sufferings.

VIII

“It is finished. He is dead.” Pic stood at the cave-mouth facing the two animals who all this time had remained awed spectators of what was transpiring within.

Wulli took a long deep breath. He turned to the Mammoth. “The Trog-man is dead. Why should we stay here?”

“Yes, why?” Hairi glanced at Pic. “And you—what will you do now?”

The Ape Boy looked thoughtfully at the sky.

“I scarcely know. Now that my father is dead, I am quite alone. I have lived much alone but while he was alive I did not feel as now—without any friends at all.”

“None at all? What of us?” The Mammoth appeared much grieved.

“I meant men-friends—my own people,” Pic replied. “They say—my father said so too—that men and animals can never be friends. I do not see why it should be so. Except for my father, I have known none that please me more than do you and Wulli.”

“Why not join us?” said the Mammoth. “We are two; with you we would be three. I wish it could be so.”

“And the Rhinoceros—what does he say?”

Wulli’s eyes twinkled. He bobbed his head up and down until his ears rattled.

“We are three,” he grunted. “Good; let us be off. We can be of no more help to this dead Trog-man.”

“Agh!” Pic looked down and scratched his head. “What is to be done with the body? I cannot leave it like that—so cold and alone.”

“But not for long,” Wulli snorted with brutal frankness. “The Cave Beasts will attend to it. Every hyena in the neighborhood will hear the news by nightfall.”

“Yes, I know.” Pic was quite familiar with this method of caring for the dead. Hyenas were prompt and obliging undertakers. The Cave Lion might prefer food of his own killing; but hyenas were not so particular. Pic shuddered, as in his mind’s eye he saw these unclean scavengers rending and devouring the lifeless body.

“The foul brutes must not touch him,” he said determinedly. “This grotto is now my father’s home and in it he shall lie where no flesh-eater can reach him.”

“What do you intend to do?” Wulli asked.

“Wait and see.” The Ape Boy turned, re-entered the grotto and kneeled upon the floor. The Mammoth and Rhinoceros crowded closer into the low entrance and looked wonderingly on. They heard the sound of chopping—of flint-ax striking into hard dirt. In the dim light they could barely see the figure of the Ape Boy hard at work upon the cave-floor. Chop, chop,—the ax rose and fell, stopping at intervals as he laid it aside and scooped out the loosened earth with his hands. Long and earnestly he toiled while his friends stood guard at the cave-mouth and awaited developments. The work went on until a long shallow trench and piles of dirt bore witness to Pic’s untiring energy. Finally the chopping ceased and he came crawling to the light on his hands and knees.

Hairi and Wulli shifted to make room as he emerged and seated himself in the sunlight to rest and fill his lungs with fresh outside air.

“Why do you make that hole?” the Mammoth inquired.

“To bury the body,” Pic replied. “Once covered, the hyenas will find it hard work to dig him out.”

“Umph!” said Wulli. “I thought you were hunting for something in the cave-floor.”

“Whoow!” Pic’s eyes opened wide. “My father told me of something before he died. I had nigh forgotten.”

“What?”

“He was grateful because I helped him. He spoke of treasure that might some day be mine.”

“Treasure? What does that mean?” Hairi asked.

“Something nice. Something I would like to have.” The Ape Boy clapped his hands together. He grinned like a pleased child.

“What is it?”

“Umm—now what is it?” Pic screwed up his face much perplexed. “Agh! I do not know. My father did not say nor did I think to ask.”

“How unfortunate,” said the Mammoth. “Where did he say this treasure was? We can go and find it.”

“In a cave on a mountain side, buried in the floor near the entrance beneath a stone: that is what he said.”

“What cave; what mountain?”

Pic looked blank and threw up his hands, palms outwards.

“I am sure I do not know,” he replied helplessly. “I was not thinking of such things just then and forgot to ask.”

“Ooch, ooch,” Wulli snorted. “You should have known that we would like to see it. Is it something to eat!”

“My father did not tell me what is was.”

“What would you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nuts or fruits possibly,” Hairi suggested. “Squirrels and other animals sometimes bury them in the ground.”

“The flesh-eaters often act like that. I have seen them,” Wulli declared. “But they hide only bones. The treasure may be bones; who knows?”

“Not bones,” said the Ape Boy with a smile. “Bones without meat would be of no value to a cave-man. As for fruits and nuts, they would rot away. It is something else.”

“What, then?”

“I have no idea.”

The two animals raged inwardly, now that their curiosity was aroused and found nothing to satisfy it. Even Pic felt a new interest in the treasure, of which his father had spoken. He had not thought much about it at the time. His interest in the sick man had precluded all else. Now he inwardly rebuked himself for his lack of foresight. He might have learned the nature of the treasure and its place of concealment; but now his father was dead and the secret had died with him.

“Then the only thing to be done is to go and look for it,” the Mammoth suggested. “There are many caves. We can search them all.”

“The stone will help us,” said Pic, his hopes rising. “A stone in the floor marks the spot. I know of many caves; this one, mine upon the Rock and others; but none of them have stones in the floor. I am certain of that. When I have finished my task, we can determine what is to be done.”