Slopes, river banks and even the river surface itself were dotted and blotched with living forms, single and in groups, some motionless, others shifting restlessly about; sleeping, lunching or besporting themselves as wild animals do when in the midst of congenial surroundings.
A herd of horses was gliding swiftly along the southern slopes overlooking the valley—sorrels, bays, chestnuts, with manes and tails streaming behind them—all uniting to form a single moving mass of color. Groups of long-horned cattle lined the river-banks farther below, standing high and dry, wading in the water or swimming with all but their heads submerged.
To the west, a score of bison grazed beneath the scattered shade-trees. Others lay on the grass near by, chewing their cuds and gazing dreamily into space. A tiny calf consisting of a small piece of body mounted on four stilts, ran here and there calling “Ma-ma” and causing no disturbance but its own noise. By some peculiar combination of sight, smell and sound whereby cows and calves find each other without mistakes, the bawling infant soon discovered the object of its search and its troubles ended with a draught of home-brewed nectar, of which the fond mother carried an abundant supply. Meanwhile the bull bison leader found nothing to do but loll about awaiting the day’s end and whatever the morrow might bring. But with all his cud-chewing and seeming laziness, he kept one eye upon a burly brown bear who in the distance was poking the stones and rotten logs about with his big paws in search of grubs and things that bears like when honey is scarce and the berries are still green.
In spite of their apparent lack of interest in any but their own affairs, bison, horse, ox, bear and all frequently turned their noses windward to sniff the air as though suspicious of its tainted odor. Grass-eaters, even hunting-animals never trusted blood-thirsty creatures that roved in packs—wolves, hyenas and more particularly, other strange beings beyond the pale who walked on their hind legs and fought with sticks and stones.
As the three travellers glided down the Basin slope and neared a more abrupt descent to the river, Pic espied a group of figures on the bank below him, near where the river made its first sharp turn from south to north. He said nothing of this discovery for fear of alarming his companions; but already the Mammoth had begun to show signs of uneasiness. His trunk had caught a strange scent below him. With each step, his pace slackened. The Rhinoceros shared his comrade’s increasing concern. His ears were held pricked forward to catch the sound of that which he smelled but could not see.
Suddenly, two of the distant figures jumped up. A shout; and every figure stood erect. A score of wondering faces stared up at the Mammoth and Rhinoceros. A second shout followed. The figures—faces and all—dropped to the ground and lay still.
At the first shout, Hairi gave a great bound which almost unseated his rider; at the second, he stopped abruptly, only to move forward again as Pic patted his cheek and spoke reassuring words to coax him on. Nearer and nearer, they approached the prostrate figures, not one of which moved or made a sound. When but a dozen paces distant, the Mammoth stopped and refused to advance another step. He hung back on the shelving bank, beneath which he could see dark figures kneeling with their faces in the dust. His nose told him that these were Trog-men, a fact concerning which his eyes and ears now felt some doubts, for the prone forms neither moved nor made a sound. When eyes, ears and nose failed to agree on things, those things had best be avoided.
To Pic, sitting astride the Mammoth’s neck, the sight of the prone figures was astounding. Men either fought or fled in the face of danger but never did they pretend to be asleep or dead. Why did they act so? He saw a score of human beings grovelling in the dust. About them lay piles of cream colored lumps, also hammer-stones and axes scattered in confusion. He suspected treachery; but if this were an ambuscade, one more remarkable he had never encountered.
“Can these really be men?” he asked himself. “So silent and still all; lying upon their faces. What does it mean?”
As if in reply, one of the figures stirred. A grizzled grey head raised itself. A pair of deep-set eyes peered up furtively at the towering Mammoth. Hairi threw his trunk aloft and settled back. The Rhinoceros squared his legs. The Ape Boy looked down. He saw the face of an old man with heavy brows, sloping forehead and massive chinless jaws. The eyes shone like those of a fanatic—of one inspired.