Animals were far more numerous than human beings. Gonch encountered them everywhere and at all times, singly and in groups, packs and herds: horse, bison and long-horned ox of the meadow lands; moose, boar and stag of the forests; and various other lesser creatures of field, hill and glade. As a rule, all grazing and browsing animals made a practice of avoiding the rough country where rocks, hills and thickets abounded, for in such regions all manner of flesh-eaters made their homes. It was not a fellow feeling that attracted the cannibal man to the rough country. He felt more at home there because it suited his physical being best. This refers mainly to his foot structure. Short heels and flexible toes were best fitted for clambering over cliffs and through the timber; not for travelling hard level roads. And so Gonch sought the broken region which, although his favorite element, had its drawbacks, for now he came in close contact with the prowling flesh-eaters.
Hyenas were too cowardly to attack him and lynxes, which usually hunted singly, he looked upon as a fair match because of his flint-ax; a formidable weapon in the hands of a strong and courageous man. Gonch was a strong and courageous man who feared no beast nor human being, Totan alone excepted. His knowledge of woodcraft, powers of scent, sight and hearing were a match for any animal. These gifts in addition to his human wit and cunning carried him through many apparently hopeless situations.
A fortnight of incessant plodding brought him to a broad pass running through the Cantabrians from north to south. A river flowed through it to the Gascon Gulf. As he stood upon the bank of this river, his sharp ears caught the sound of distant howls coming from behind him. Far away he saw a group of animals, mere specks racing over the hills and after him full cry. Fastening his hide and weapons about his shoulders in a pack so as to leave his arms free, Gonch waded into the river and swam across. On nearing the eastern shore, he made no effort to continue his flight, not even attempting a landing but remaining in the water which reached to above his knees. Here he rid himself of his spear and hide, tossing them to the bank above his head. Thus free of all encumbrance except his ax, he rested and made ready to defend himself.
The howling grew louder and as the fugitive looked to the west bank from whence he had come, he saw a dozen or more wolves tearing down the slopes to where he had first entered the water. Here the trail was lost and for a time the fierce beasts were at fault running up and down near the water’s edge and occasionally stopping to look across the river; but finally all waded in and the flotilla of heads came sailing across the stream. Gonch stood motionless in the water awaiting them, holding his ax in his jaws and with a stone snatched from the river bottom, held in either hand. As the pack came within throwing range, they were greeted with a volley of stones, one following another as fast as Gonch could pluck them from the river-bed. This was more than his assailants had bargained for. Many of the missiles reached their marks and the howls changed to yelps of pain. The wolves of the mountain slopes were a poor lot compared with their giant cousins, the Cave and Timber variety, or the Muskman would probably have been obliged to finally decide the issue at close quarters with the flint-ax. However, in the present circumstances, this proved unnecessary. His enemies, although having stomach for food, had little for fighting and were only too glad to swim back the way they had come as soon as they found themselves getting the worst of it.
Gonch and the Wolves
Finding himself in no further immediate danger, Gonch climbed the bank, recovered his spear and hide and then resumed his journey. Near the eastern terminus of the Cantabrians, a region of rocks and ravines, he was obliged to pass through the lion country. This was by far the most difficult and most dangerous portion of his journey. It would appear that the good fortune he had experienced thus far was about to desert him, for just when he needed his wits and strength most, an attack of mountain influenza sapped his vitality and almost destroyed his power of scent. He strove to continue but finding the task too great while the malady was upon him, he climbed to the loftiest and most inaccessible rocks he could find, there to lie in his hide-wrappings in a torment of pain and burning fever.
For two long nights and days, he lay there while great shaggy lions glided in and out among the rocks and underbrush, snarling and growling and frequently emitting thunderous roars, for in some way it had become known to them that a puny Trog-man had dared intrude upon their domains. During the second night of his sickness, Gonch’s fever left him and he became conscious of what was going on about him. Above his head was the dark blue sky and a full moon flooding the country with its jejune light. Below him, the rocks cast deep shadows one upon another. Then appeared other shadows which moved to the accompaniment of low snuffling growls and he discerned four figures crawling at the foot of the very rocks among whose tops he lay hidden. Even one lion would have found Gonch easy prey, but here were four with many others no doubt not far distant.