The Foolish One had discovered the use of fire by playing with a burning branch ignited by the lightning in the forest. A fool bestrode the first wild horse and rode upon its back. Nearly always it was the fools who did things first. Wise Men were too wise—they had seen too many fools die of their folly.
The fingers of the Foolish One were never idle. He made many things and he pulled as many to pieces again. The people of the tribe had grown very skillful in weaving baskets from tough grasses. They even made hats to keep out the sun and later they wove willows into rude roofs, which they patched with clay from the river banks to keep out the rain.
The baskets which they made were almost water-tight and the Foolish One made many baskets. Each time he worked harder and wove these baskets more tightly, but they all leaked when he filled them with water from the spring.
One day he made a basket shaped like a bowl and lined it with clay; then he wove the grasses upward like the neck of a large bottle, dipping his fingers inside to plaster it with more clay, for he wanted to surprise the folk with a basket that would carry water without leaking. But when all was done he forgot his plans and went swimming in a pool, and when next he saw the basket he tossed it into the fire, so sure was he that it would leak as all baskets leaked.
And there, in the red flames, beheld by all the members of the tribe, lay the marvelous basket with its clay lining. And soon the grasses of the basket burned away and when the fire died down the Foolish One saw the clay lining lying among the coals. It was round and firm and almost perfect in shape. He peered into it and running to the river, filled it with water. And, marvel of marvels! the clay had grown hard in the fire and the first jug the tribe had ever made or seen or dreamed of, held water, from which there leaked not one single drop.
For a long time the Cave People made their jugs by lining baskets with clay and burning off the grasses, leaving the jugs unmarred, till they learned newer and better ways of making pottery.
X
The ARROW THROWERS
For many years the Bow and Arrow Folks had been the most ferocious as well as the most skillful of all the tribes that dwelt in the heart of the luxuriant lands along the banks of the Father of Rivers. Every other tribe had long since learned to hate and fear them beyond any other living creatures.