The Story of Ab by Stanley Waterloo

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It was good for the boy that he was so under the maternal dominion, and
that, as he lingered about the cave, he aided in the making of threads of
sinew or intestine, or looked on interestedly as his mother, using the
bone needle, which he often sharpened for her with his flint scraper,
sewed together the skins which made the garments of the family. The
needle was one without an eye, a mere awl, which made holes through which
the thread was pushed. As the growing boy lounged or labored near his
mother, alternately helpful or annoying, as the case might be, he learned
many things which were of value to him in the future, and resolved upon
brave actions which should be greatly to his credit. He was but a cub, a
young being almost as unreasoning in some ways as the beasts of the wood,
but he had his hopes and vanities, as has even the working beaver or the
dancing crane, and from the long mother-talks came a degree of
definiteness of outline to his ambitions. He would be the greatest hunter
and warrior in all the region!

The cave mother easily understood her child's increasing daringness and
vigor, and though swift to anger and strong of hand, she could not but
feel a pride in and tell her tales to the boy beside her. After a time,
when the family of Oak returned to the cave above and the boys were much
together again, the mother began to see less of her son. The influence of
the days spent by her side remained with the boy, however, and much that
he learned there was of value in his later active life.

CHAPTER X.

OLD MOK, THE MENTOR.

It was at about this time, the time when Ab had begun to develop from
boyhood into strong and aspiring youth, that his family was increased
from five to six by the addition of a singular character, Old Mok. This
personage was bent and seemingly old, but he was younger than he looked,
though he was not extremely fair to look upon. He had a shock of grizzled
hair, a short, stiff, unpleasant beard, and the condition of one of his
legs made him a cripple of an exaggerated type. He could hobble about and
on great occasions make a journey of some length, but he was practically
debarred from hunting. The extraordinary curvature of his twisted leg
was, as usual in his time, the result of an encounter with some wild
beast. The limb curved like a corkscrew and was so much shorter than the
other leg that the man was really safe only when the walls of a cave
enclosed him. But if his legs were weak his brain and arms were not. In
that grizzled head was much intelligence and the arms were those of a
great climber. His toes were clasping things and he was at home in a
treetop. But he did not travel much. There was no need. Old Mok had
special gifts, and they were such as made him a desirable friend among
the cave men. He had, in his youth, been a mighty hunter and had so
learned that he could tell wonderfully the ways of beasts and swimming
things and the ways of slaying or eluding them. Best of all, he was such
a fashioner of weapons as the valley had rarely known, and, because of
this, was in great request as a cared-for inmate of almost any cave which
hit his fancy. After his crippling he had drifted from one haven to
another, never quite satisfied with what he found, and now he had come to
live, as he supposed, with his old friend, One-Ear, until life should
end. Despite his harshness of appearance--and neither of the two could
ever afterward explain it--there was something about the grim old man
which commended him to Ab from the very first. There was an occasional
twinkle in the fierce old fellow's eye and sometimes a certain cackle in
his clucking talk, which betokened not unkindliness toward a healthy
youngster, and the two soon grew together, as often the young and old may
do.

Though but what might be called in one sense a dependent, the crippled
hunter had a dignity and was arbitrary in the expression of his views.
Never once, through all the thousands of years which have passed since he
hobbled here and there, has lived an armorer more famous among those who
knew him best. No fashioner of sword, or lance, or coat of mail or plate,
in the far later centuries, had better reputation than had Mok with his
friends and patrons for the making of good weapons, though it may be that
his clientele was less numerous by hundreds to one than that of some
later manufacturer of a Toledo blade. He might be living partly as a
dependent, but he could do almost as he willed. Who should have standing
if it were not accorded to the most gifted chipper of flint and carver of
mammoth tooth in all the region from where the little waters came down to
make a river, to where the blue, broad stream, blending with friendly
currents, was lost in what is now the great North Sea?

A boy and an old man can come together closely, and that has, through all
the ages, been a good thing for each. The boy learns that which enables
him to do things and the man is happy in watching the development of one
of his own kind. Helping and advising Ab, and sometimes Oak as well, Old
Mok did not discourage sometimes reckless undertakings. In those days
chances were accepted. So when any magnificent scheme suggested itself to
the two youths, Ab at once sought his adviser and was not discountenanced.

It was a great night in the cave when Ab brought home two fluffy gray
bundles not much larger than kittens and tied them in a corner with
thongs of sinew, sinew so tough and stringy that it could not easily be
severed by the sharp teeth which were at once applied to it. The fluffy
gray bundles were two young wolves, and were, for Ab, a great possession.
They were not even brother and sister, these cubs, and had been gallantly
captured by the two courageous rangers, Ab and Oak. For some time the
boys had noted lurking shadows about a rugged height close by the river,
some distance below the cave of Ab, and had resolved upon a closer
investigation. A particularly ugly brute was the wolf of the cave man's
time, but one which, when not in pack, was unlikely to assail two
well-armed and sturdy youths in daylight; and the result of much cautious
spying was that they found two dens, each with young in them, and at a
time when the old wolves were away. In one den Ab seized upon two of the
snarling cubs and Oak did the same in the other, and then the raiders
fled with such speed as was in them, until they were at a safe distance
from the place where things would not go well with them should the robbed
parents return. Once in safe territory, each exchanged a cub for one
seized by the other and then each went home in triumph. Ab was especially
delighted. He was determined to feed his cubs with the utmost care and to
keep them alive and growing. He was full of the fancy and delighted in
it, but he had assumed a great responsibility.

[Illustration: AB SEIZED UPON TWO OF THE SNARLING CUBS AND OAK DID THE
SAME]

The cubs were tied in a corner of the cave and at once commanded the
attention and unbounded admiration of Bark and Beech-Leaf. The young lady
especially delighted in the little beasts and could usually be found
lying in the corner with them, the baby wolves learning in time to play
with her as if she were a wolf-suckled cub herself. Bark had almost the
same relations with the little brutes and Ab looked after them most
carefully. Even the father and mother became interested in the antics of
the young children and young wolves and the cubs became acknowledged, if
not particularly respected, members of the family. But Ab's dream was too
much for sudden realization. Not all at once could the wild thing become
a tame one. As the cubs grew and their teeth became longer and sharper,
there was an occasional conflict and the arms of Bark and Beech-Leaf were
scarred in consequence, until at last Ab, though he protested hardly, was
compelled to give up his pets. Somehow, he was not in the mood for
killing the half grown beasts, and so he simply turned them loose, but
they did not, as he had thought they would, flee to the forest. They had
known almost no life except that of the cave, they had got their meat
there and, at night, the twain were at the doorway whining for food. To
them were tossed some half-gnawed bones and they received them with
joyous yelps and snarls. Thenceforth they hung about the cave and
retained, practically, their place in the family, oddly enough showing
particular animosity to those of their own kind who ventured near the
place. One day, the female was found in the cave's rear with four little
whelps lying beside her, and that settled it! The family petted the young
animals and they grew up tamer and more obedient than had been their
father and mother. Protected by man, they were unlikely to revert to
wildness. Members of the pack which grew from them were, in time,
bestowed as valued gifts among the cave men of the region and much came
of it. The two boys did a greater day's work than they could comprehend
when they raided the dens by the river's side.

But there was much beside the capture of wolf cubs to occupy the
attention of the boys. They counted themselves the finest bird hunters in
the community and, to a certain extent, justified the proud claim made.
No youths could set a snare more deftly or hurl a stone more surely, and
there was much bird life for them to seek. The bustard fed in the vast
nut forests, the capercailzie was proud upon the moors, where the
heath-cock was as jaunty, and the willow grouse and partridge were wise in
covert to avoid the hungry snowy owl. Upon the river and lagoons and
creeks the swan and wild goose and countless duck made constant clamor,
and there were water-rail and snipe along the shallows. There were eggs
to be found, and an egg baked in the ashes was a thing most excellent. It
was with the waterfowl that the boys were most successful. The ducks
would in their feeding approach close to the shores of the river banks or
the little islands and would gather in bunches so near to where the boys
were hidden that the young hunters, leaping suddenly to their feet and
hurling their stones together, rarely failed to secure at least a single
victim. There were muskrats along the banks and there was a great beaver,
which was not abundant, and which was a mighty creature of his kind. Of
muskrats the boys speared many--and roasted muskrat is so good that it is
eaten by the Indians and some of the white hunters in Canada to-day--but
the big beaver they did not succeed in capturing at this stage of their
career. Once they saw a seal, which had come up the river from the sea,
and pursued it, running along the banks for miles, but it proved as
elusive as the great beaver.

But, as a matter of course, it was upon land that the greatest sport was
had. There were the wild hogs, but the hogs were wary and the big boars
dangerous, and it was only when a litter of the young could be pounced
upon somewhere that flint-headed spears were fully up to the emergency.
On such occasions there was fine pigsticking, and then the atmosphere in
the caves would be made fascinating with the odor of roasting suckling.
There is a story by a great and gentle writer telling how a Chinaman
first discovered the beauties of roast pig. It is an admirable tale and
it is well that it was written, but the cave man, many tens of thousands
of years before there was a China, yielded to the allurements of young
pig, and sought him accordingly.

The musk-ox, which still mingled with the animals of the river basin, was
almost as difficult of approach as in arctic wilds to-day, as was a small
animal, half goat, half antelope, which fed upon the rocky hillsides or
wherever the high reaches were. There were squirrels in the trees, but
they were seldom caught, and the tailless hare which fed in the river
meadows was not easily approached and was swift as the sea wind in its
flight, swifter than a sort of fox which sought it constantly. But the
burrowing things were surer game. There were martens and zerboas, and
marmots and hedgehogs and badgers, all good to eat and attainable to
those who could dig as could these brawny youths. The game once driven to
its hole, the clamshell and the sharpened fire-hardened spade-stick were
brought into use and the fate of the animal sought was rarely long in
doubt. It is true that the scene lacked one element very noticeable when
boys dig out any animal to-day. There was not the inevitable and
important dog, but the youths were swift of sight and quick of hand, and
the hidden creature, once unearthed, seldom escaped. One of the prizes of
those feats of excavation was the badger, for not only was it edible, but
its snow-white teeth, perforated and strung on sinew, made necklaces
which were highly valued.

The youths did not think of attacking many of the dangerous brutes. They
might have risked the issue with a small leopard which existed then, or
faced the wildcat, but what they sought most was the wolverine, because
it had fur so long and oddly marked, and because it was braver than other
animals of its size and came more boldly to some bait of meat, affording
opportunity for fine spear-throwing. And, apropos of the wolverine, the
glutton, as it is called in Europe, it is something still admired. It is
a vicious, bloodthirsty, unchanging and, to the widely-informed and
scientifically sentimental, lovable animal. It is vicious and
bloodthirsty because that is its nature. It is lovable because, through
all the generations, it has come down just the same. The cave man knew it
just as it is now; the early Teuton knew it when "hides" of land were the
rewards of warriors. The Roman knew it when he made forays to the far
north for a few centuries and learned how sharp were the blades of the
Rhine-folk and the Briton. The Druid and the Angle and Jute and Saxon
knew it, and it is known to-day in all northern Europe and Asia and
America, in fact, in nearly all the northern temperate zone. The
wolverine is something wonderful; it laughs at the ages; its bones, found
side by side with those of the cave hyena, are the same as those found in
its body as it exists to-day. It is an anomaly, an animal which does not
advance nor retrograde.

The two big boys grew daily in the science of gaining food and grew more
and more of importance in their respective households. Sometimes either
one of them might hunt alone, but this was not the rule. It was safer for
two than one, when the forest was invaded deeply. But not all their time
was spent in evading or seeking the life of such living things as they
might discover. They had a home life sometimes as entertaining as the
life found anywhere outside.

CHAPTER XI.

DOINGS AT HOME.

Those were happy times in the cave, where Ab, developing now into an
exceedingly stalwart youth, found the long evenings about the fire far
from monotonous. There was Mok, the mentor, who had grown so fond of him,
and there was most interesting work to do in making from the dark flint
nodules or obsidian fragments--always eagerly seized upon when discovered
by the cave people in their wanderings--the spearheads and rude knives
and skin scrapers so essential to their needs. The flint nodule was but a
small mass of the stone, often somewhat pear-shaped. Though apparently a
solid mass, composed of the hardest substance then known, it lay in what
might be called a series of flakes about a center, and, in wise hands,
these flakes could be chipped or pried away unbroken. The flake, once
won, was often slightly concave on the outside and convex on the other,
but the core of the stone was something more equally balanced in
formation and, when properly finished, made a mighty spearhead. For the
heavy axes and mallets, other stones, such as we now call granite,
redstone or quartose grit, were often used, but in the making of all the
weapons was required the exercise of infinite skill and patience. To make
the flakes symmetrical demanded the nicest perception and judgment of
power of stroke, for, with each flake gained, there resulted a new form
to the surface of the stone. The object was always to secure a flake with
a point, a strong middle ridge and sides as nearly edged as possible. And
in the striking off of these flakes and their finishing others of the
cave men were to old Mok as the child is to the man.

Ab hung about the old man at his work and was finally allowed to help
him. If, at first, the boy could do nothing else, he could, with his
flint scraper, work industriously at the smoothing of the long spear
shafts, and when he had learned to do well at this he was at last allowed
to venture upon the stone chipping, especially when into old Mok's
possession had come a piece of flint the quality of which he did not
quite approve and for the ruining of which in the splitting he cared but
little.

There were disasters innumerable when the boy began and much bad stone
was spoiled, but he had a will and a good eye and hand, and it came, in
time, that he could strike off a flake with only a little less of
deftness than his teacher and that, even in the more delicate work of the
finer chipping to complete the weapon, he was a workman not to be
despised. He had an ambition in it all and old Mok was satisfied with
what he did.

The boy was always experimenting, ever trying a new flint chipper or
using a third stone to tap delicately the one held in the hand to make
the fracture, or wondering aloud why it would not be well to make this
flint knife a little thinner, or that spearhead a trifle heavier. He was
questioning as he worked and something of a nuisance with it all, but old
Mok endured with what was, for him, an astonishing degree of patience,
and would sometimes comment grumblingly to the effect that the boy could
at least chip stone far better than some men. And then the veteran would
look at One-Ear, who was, notoriously, a bad flint worker,--though, a
weapon once in his grasp, there were few could use it with surer eye or
heavier hand--and would chuckle as he made the comment. As for One-Ear,
he listened placidly enough. He was glad a son of his could make good
weapons. So much the better for the family!

As times went, Ab was a tolerably good boy to his mother. Nearly all
young cave males were good boys until the time came when their thews and
sinews outmatched the strength of those who had borne them, and this, be
it said, was at no early age, for the woman, hunting and working with the
man, was no maternal weakling whose buffet was unworthy of notice. A blow
from the cave mother's hand was something to be respected and avoided.
The use of strength was the general law, and the cave woman, though she
would die for her young, yet demanded that her young should obey her
until the time came when the maternal instinct of first direction blended
with and was finally lost in pride over the force of the being to whom
she had given birth. So Ab had vigorous duties about the household.

As has been told already, Red-Spot was a notable housekeeper and there
was such product of the cave cooking as would make happy any gourmand of
to-day who could appreciate the quality of what had a most natural
flavor. Regarding her kitchen appliances Red-Spot had a matron's
justifiable pride. Not only was there the wood fire, into which, held on
long, pointed sticks, could be thrust all sorts of meat for the somewhat
smoky broiling, and the hot coals and ashes in which could be roasted the
clams and the clay-covered fish, but there was the place for boiling,
which only the more fortunate of the cave people owned. Her growing son
had aided much in the attainment of this good housewife's fond desire.

With much travail, involving all the force the cave family could muster
and including the assistance of Oak's father and of Oak himself, who
rejoiced with Ab in the proceedings, there had been rolled into the cave
a huge sandstone rock with a top which was nearly flat. Here was to be
the great pot, sometimes used as a roasting place, as well, which only
the more pretentious of the caves could boast. On the middle of the big
stone's uppermost surface old Mok chipped with an ax the outline of a
rude circle some two feet in diameter. This defined roughly the size of
the kettle to be made. Inside the circle, the sandstone must be dug out
to a big kettle's proper depth, and upon the boy, Ab, must devolve most
of this healthful but not over-attractive labor.

The boy went at the task gallantly, in the beginning, and pecked away
with a stone chisel and gained a most respectable hollow within a day or
two, but his enthusiasm subsided with the continuity of much effort with
small result. He wanted more weight to his chisel of flint set firmly in
reindeer's horn, and a greater impact to the blows into which could not
be put the force resulting from a swing of arm. He thought much. Then he
secured a long stick and bound his chisel strongly to it at one end, the
top of the chisel resting against a projecting stub of limb, so that it
could not be driven upward. To the other end of the stick he bound a
stone of some pounds in weight and then, holding the shaft with both
hands, lifted it and let the whole drop into the depression he had
already made. The flint chisel bit deeply under the heavy impact and the
days were few before Ab had dug in the sandstone rock a cavity which
would hold much meat and water. There was an unconscious celebration when
the big kettle was completed. It was nearly filled with water, and into
the water were flung great chunks of the meat of a reindeer killed that
day. Meanwhile, the cave fire had been replenished with dry wood and
there had been formed a wide bed of coals, upon which were cast numerous
stones of moderate size, which soon attained a shining heat. A sort of
tongs made of green withes served to remove the stones, one after
another, from the mass of coal, and drop them in with the meat and water.
Within a little time the water was fairly boiling and soon there was a
monster stew giving forth rich odors and ready to be eaten. And it was
not allowed to get over-cool after that summoning fragrance had once
extended throughout the cave. There was a rush for the clam shells which
served for soup dishes or cups, there was spearing with sharpened sticks
for pieces of the boiled meat, and all were satisfied, though there was
shrill complaint from Bark, whose turn at the kettle came late, and much
clamor from chubby Beech-Leaf, who was not yet tall enough to help
herself, but who was cared for by the mother. It may be that, to some
people of to-day, the stew would be counted lacking in quality of
seasoning, but an opinion upon seasoning depends largely upon the stomach
and the time, and, besides, it may be that the dirt clinging to the
stones cast into the water gave a certain flavor as fine in its way as
could be imparted by salt and pepper.

Old Mok, observing silently, had decidedly approved of Ab's device for
easier digging into sandstone than was the old manner of pecking away
with a chisel held in the hand. He was almost disposed now to admit the
big lad to something like a plane of equality in the work they did
together. He became more affable in their converse, and the youth was, in
the same degree, delighted and ambitious. They experimented with the
stick and weight and chisel in accomplishing the difficult work of
splitting from boulders the larger fragments of stone from which weapons
were to be made, and learned that by heavy, steady pressure of the
breast, thus augmented by heavy weight, they could fracture more evenly
than by blow of stone, ax or hammer. They learned that two could work
together in stone chipping and do better work than one. Old Mok would
hold the forming weapon-head in one hand and the horn-hafted chisel in
another, pressing the blade close against the stone and at just such
angle as would secure the result he sought, while Ab, advised as to the
force of each succeeding stroke, tapped lightly upon the chisel's head.
Woe was it for the boy if once he missed his stroke and caught the old
man's fingers! Very delicate became the chipping done by these two
artists, and excellent beyond any before made were the axes and
spearheads produced by what, in modern times, would have been known under
the title of "Old Mok & Co."

At this time, too, Ab took lessons in making all the varied articles of
elk or reindeer horn and the drinking cups from the horns of urus and
aurochs. Old Mok even went so far as to attempt teaching the youth
something of carving figures upon tusks and shoulder blades, but in this
art Ab never greatly excelled. He was too much a creature of action. The
bone needles used by Red-Spot in making skin garments he could form
readily enough and he made whistles for Bark and Beech-Leaf, but his
inclinations were all toward larger things. To become a fighter and a
hunter remained his chief ambition.

Rather keen, with light snows but nipping airs, were the winters of this
country of the cave men, and there were articles of food essential to
variety which were, necessarily, stored before the cold season came.
There were roots which were edible and which could be dried, and there
were nuts in abundance, beyond all need. Beechnuts and acorns were
gathered in the autumn, the children at this time earning fully the right
of home and food, and the stores were heaped in granaries dug into the
cave's sides. Should the snow at any time fall too deeply for
hunting--though such an occurrence was very rare--or should any other
cause, such, for instance, as the appearance of the great cave tiger in
the region, make the game scarce and hunting perilous, there was the
recourse of nuts and roots and no danger of starvation. There was no fear
of suffering from thirst. Man early learned to carry water in a pouch of
skin and there were sometimes made rock cavities, after the manner of the
cave kettle, where water could be stored for an emergency. Besieging wild
beasts could embarrass but could not greatly alarm the family, for, with
store of wood and food and water, the besieged could wait, and it was not
well for the flesh-seeking quadruped to approach within a long
spear-thrust's length of the cavern's narrow entrance.

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