His first need was raw material on which to work. This meant a trip to the valley in search of flint. Before venturing forth, he gathered up the treasure and replaced it within the cavity where he had found it—all but the bone tool and a single blade. He then set the stone back in place and covered it with loose dirt so that it was effectually concealed. The one flint he retained, was intended to replace the blade of Ach Eul so recently broken over the hyena’s head. He recovered his discarded ax-haft and in a jiffy, it was fitted with a new head as large and keen as the one it had originally borne.
Thus re-armed, he descended into the valley and sought the river gravels for raw flint-lumps—essentials in implement manufacture. After securing all that he could conveniently carry, he crossed the meadows and chose a secluded spot among the loose boulders which lay thickly strewn along the base of the towering cliff-walls. Here, without danger of being interrupted he devoted himself to the practical application of his newly discovered flint-working art.
First he broke up the lumps he had gathered with a hammer-stone in the usual way. This in itself was an operation which called for a considerable degree of skill. When struck in the right place and with just the proper force, the wax-like sheets or blanks were detached from the flint-mass with remarkable smoothness and precision. In the performance of this operation, Pic displayed an adeptness born of long experience. Once the blanks were hewn, then came the second step in flint-making when the blanks were roughed out to the desired shapes and partly edged. This work was accomplished by light taps of the hammer-stone. Up to this point the work was done according to the ordinary method of the skilled Mousterian artisan.
Pic drew a long deep breath. All was ready for the third and final stage—retouching—such as no Mousterian had ever attempted. His fingers trembled as he put aside his hammer-stone and essayed his first trial of the new art.
The bone tool now came into play. With it, Pic pressed off the last tiny chips along the point and edges of the flint-flake. By this time he had become so engrossed in his work that he was entirely oblivious to everything else. A clammy snake-like object suddenly glided over his left shoulder and as he sprang to his feet and faced about with an astonished yell, there stood the Mammoth and Rhinoceros so close that either one could have trod upon him with a single forward step.
“Ugh!” he muttered weakly as he recognized his friends. “Why did you so startle me? You should have given warning.”
To this, the Mammoth paid scant attention. “What were you doing there?” he asked. “Not the rock-cracking part but that which you do with the little stick. I never saw you do the like before.”
“Stick? Agh, you mean the bone tool.” Pic held it up so that both could see. “This is the Terrace Man’s secret, his method of retouching hammered flakes. I found it high upon a mountain, in a cave, beneath a stone in the floor——”
“The treasure!” echoed both animals.
“Aye, the treasure. I found it only this morning in my cave upon the Rock.”