“The Bear does all that,” Wulli interrupted. “What else?”
“He uses fire—those red tongues and white clouds.”
“Polecats make bad smells. There must be something else.”
“He makes flint tools.”
The Rhinoceros had no reply ready for this statement, whereupon Hairi hastened to answer:
“Animals never crack rocks and they are proud of it. I am glad that I am not a man. They hide in caves and are ashamed to show themselves.”
“Flint-making is work to be proud of,” the Ape Boy retorted. “Were it not for that, men would be nothing but beasts.”
Haiti and Wulli both frowned. This last remark seemed to reflect upon themselves.
“So you think yourself better than us because you can crack rocks?” the Elephant sneered.
“Certainly,” was the prompt answer. “Men can rule the world if they will; but only with the flint can they do it. When once they learn to make proper weapons none can withstand them. They have not yet learned; but the time will come;” and the Ape Boy gazed at the blue sky like one inspired.