“But not for long,” Wulli snorted with brutal frankness. “The Cave Beasts will attend to it. Every hyena in the neighborhood will hear the news by nightfall.”
“Yes, I know.” Pic was quite familiar with this method of caring for the dead. Hyenas were prompt and obliging undertakers. The Cave Lion might prefer food of his own killing; but hyenas were not so particular. Pic shuddered, as in his mind’s eye he saw these unclean scavengers rending and devouring the lifeless body.
“The foul brutes must not touch him,” he said determinedly. “This grotto is now my father’s home and in it he shall lie where no flesh-eater can reach him.”
“What do you intend to do?” Wulli asked.
“Wait and see.” The Ape Boy turned, re-entered the grotto and kneeled upon the floor. The Mammoth and Rhinoceros crowded closer into the low entrance and looked wonderingly on. They heard the sound of chopping—of flint-ax striking into hard dirt. In the dim light they could barely see the figure of the Ape Boy hard at work upon the cave-floor. Chop, chop,—the ax rose and fell, stopping at intervals as he laid it aside and scooped out the loosened earth with his hands. Long and earnestly he toiled while his friends stood guard at the cave-mouth and awaited developments. The work went on until a long shallow trench and piles of dirt bore witness to Pic’s untiring energy. Finally the chopping ceased and he came crawling to the light on his hands and knees.
Hairi and Wulli shifted to make room as he emerged and seated himself in the sunlight to rest and fill his lungs with fresh outside air.
“Why do you make that hole?” the Mammoth inquired.
“To bury the body,” Pic replied. “Once covered, the hyenas will find it hard work to dig him out.”
“Umph!” said Wulli. “I thought you were hunting for something in the cave-floor.”