“No, the Mammoth Man himself. Flints without him would in time be lost or broken, but with him, when they are lost or broken, he can make more.”
II
Gonch toiled until dusk making ready for the beginning of his undertaking on the morrow. His was no small task and he overlooked nothing in the way of preparation. Those were days when even a short journey invited many dangers and privations, particularly for one travelling alone. 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. The hide he carried was intended as a body covering when he stopped at night to rest. Provisions he had none because the Castillan larder was as bare as a bone. He must depend upon his own hunting from the very start.
At sunrise the next day, he stood at the cave-mouth 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. The children, those which famine and disease had spared, looked upon him wonderingly. The women admired. The men had caught the spirit of this adventure. Any or all of them would have been glad to accompany him, had he but said the word. But the word was not said. This was a one-man project requiring much thought and care for its successful execution and Gonch would trust nobody but himself. His was a bold undertaking which promised rich returns if successful. He was to see the Mammoth Man in person and persuade or force that wonderful being to return to Castillo with him. Once there, he would make flint weapons for his new masters and the whole tribe would prosper accordingly. It was an admirable conception. All that remained was for the Muskman to carry it out.
As he left the fire, the cave-men pressed about him to wish him good luck. Totan alone stood aloof scowling ferociously. He was chief of the Castillans and Gonch only second man but in the latter he saw possibilities of a dangerous rival; not one whom he need fear in single combat but who might accomplish by chicanery what he could not do by force. The hetman was saying to himself: “You have undertaken too much, vain boaster. If you are lucky enough to escape death in the far-off country, you will find it here when you return to disappoint us”; and Gonch was thinking at the same time as he observed the hetman glaring at him: “I am not risking my life for you, stupid pig. Some day you and all the rest of these savages will be my slaves.” Then he turned away and clambered down the mountain side while the men of Castillo yelled themselves hoarse and finally returned to the fire to warm themselves, leaving the Muskman to go the rest of his way alone.
His path led directly eastward along the northern slopes of the Cantabrian Mountains. It was a strange country to him, once he had travelled several days journey beyond the province of Castillo. Its inhabitants—men and beasts—were strange too and looked askance at the intruder—a lone man armed with a flint-ax and wooden spear. However, Gonch led a charmed life. He met occasional bands of roving hunters, some of which he fled from and others avoided by concealing himself.