Longhead: The Story of the First Fire

by C. H. Robinson

Longhead and Broken Tooth now found themselves really caring for each other and each sought to do things to please the other. As far as they were concerned, the old selfishness was now gone. Their close companionship around the fire alone during the evenings; its cheerful light and gay sparkle, its warmth and comfort tended to promote conversation and they found themselves talking more than they had ever before in their lives. They even coined a few words to express their new experiences and feelings. Longhead would relate in detail the hunting adventures of the day and Broken Tooth would recount her own experiences in search of roots and eggs.

Both thoroughly enjoyed their new life at the fire-cave; indeed, it seemed to them they had never really lived before.

Nearly every day Longhead would go into the forest in search of small animals for food. In his absence Broken Tooth first collected sufficient fuel to keep the fire alive for another twenty-four hours, then she would visit the low ground for roots and tubers, eggs and nuts, for since they had been experimenting with roasting, they had discovered that a number of roots which had been rejected as bitter and unpalatable, when raw, were much improved by roasting, and these had been added to the bill of fare. Broken Tooth had found nesting places of the waterfowl which frequented the swamp. Her first experiment in roasting eggs had been a partial failure. She placed a couple of eggs in the hot ashes, noticing at the time that the shell of one was cracked; soon there was an explosion and the egg with the sound shell was destroyed. Thereafter she made a small hole in each for the escape of the steam and all went well. Her worst trouble with eggs was the want of a receptacle for transporting them to the fire-cave, for she wore not even an apron.

When evening began to draw near, Broken Tooth found herself looking often into the forest and wishing for Longhead's return. She sometimes feared a savage beast might have killed him. This was a new feeling for her. In the former life she had never cared for any one or cared particularly to see others. One evening when the man finally appeared, she ran into the forest to meet him and put her arms around his neck. Longhead looked at her in some surprise and then returned the caress, and they walked arm in arm to the platform. That evening they both talked a great deal, and finally Broken Tooth said: "I wonder what has come over both of us. Even when together for a short time in the old days, we spoke but seldom. I wonder if it is the fire."

It was indeed the fire, with its warmth and cheer, so different from the old days when each had shivered in the fork of a tree or had spent the night in a dark and noisome cavern. Neither understood the nature of the change which was being wrought in them, but if it was not yet real marriage, it was at least the germ which in the long succeeding ages has developed into real marriage.

One morning a cold rain was falling and Longhead sat long before the blazing fire, loth to leave the comfort he found there for the chilly and dripping forest. He drew a long slender stick from the fire and began to observe its glowing end. As the ashes accumulated and hid the red coal, he blew them away. After a few minutes, the fire on the stick went out and the man, picking up a piece of stone, began idly and without purpose to scrape away the black or charred portion of the end. When he reached the unburned wood, he found it very hard and as he continued to scrape, he finally brought the stick to a very sharp point. He felt this and thought it might be very good for killing small animals, so when he finally started out for his day's search for food, he took it with him. It was fortunate he did so, for late in the afternoon as he was turning toward home, after an unsuccessful hunt, a pack of wild dogs attacked him. So close were they upon him before he was aware, that the leader sprang at him to pull him down just before he reached a tree in which he was about to take refuge. In defense, he thrust the sharpened stick at the beast with all his might. It passed clear through the body of the dog, which fell dead and was quickly devoured by its fellows, while the man scrambled to safety. When Longhead climbed down, after the dogs had dispersed, he secured the sharpened stick, and it was with a new feeling of safety he moved through the forest, spear in hand; for a spear had been invented. A few days later he even ventured to attack a wild dog he found separated from the pack; a thing he never would have done when armed with only a club or stone. He killed the animal and carried it in triumph to the fire-cave, for it was the first time, to his knowledge, a man, ever, single-handed, had killed so large an animal of a ferocious kind. Its roasted flesh supplied the man and woman food for several days.

One day, when kindling a fire on the platform, the woman was too indolent to remove some small boulders from the spot where she desired to make the fire, so she piled the fuel over them and was surprised to find that the fire kindled more readily and burned better on account of the fuel being raised from the ground, and thereafter, three or four stones were used to support the sticks. One morning, after the fire had burned for some time and the stones were red hot, a smart shower came up. The fire was too far under the slope of the shelving rock to be directly affected, but as it continued to rain for some time, a small pool accumulated on top of the rock, which finally worked its way through the bed of leaves that had dammed its progress and, all at once, it poured over the face of the rock in a small column and fell directly upon one of the red-hot stones in the fire-place. The stone was a large nodule of flint; there was an immediate explosion, a dense cloud of steam and ashes arose, and the alarmed owners of the cave rushed for safety to its depths. When all was quiet they emerged to find that one of the stones which supported the sticks had disappeared. Instead of the stone, however, there were numerous sharp flakes of flint scattered about, which Longhead first discovered when he cut his foot by stepping on one.

With much curiosity, the man examined the flake which had injured him, then picking up the carcass of a small animal lying near, he found that he could cut it with the flake. He now carefully gathered up all the flakes he could find and carried them into the cave. When he returned from his day's hunt in the evening, he brought with him a long, slender, dry stick which he rubbed and polished with a flake until perfectly smooth; then, with some fibrous roots, he bound the longest and sharpest of his flakes at the end of the pole, and the next day carried this with him to the forest instead of the fire-hardened wooden spear. Later, he discovered that narrow strips of rawhide were better than roots for tying on a flake, and, after many years of progress, the long tendons of large animals were substituted as still better for the purpose.