bek, the oldest man in the clan, lived in a cave not very far from the one where flame kept the great fire.

it was a wonderful cave, more wonderful even, the boys thought, than flame’s. they were almost afraid to go into it, however, for the cave people thought old bek had the power of making charms.

one day as bolo peeped into bek’s cave the old man was drawing a picture on a smooth place on the rock wall. he had a queer little lamp made of hollowed chalk-stone. this was filled with fat. into the fat bek had stuck a bit of the pith of a water-rush. he could light this little chalk-cup lamp and go on with his pictures when he had no need for fire.

“what are you doing?” asked bolo.

“come and see,” said bek.

when bolo went closer he saw that it was a drawing of a reindeer. he watched as bek added line after line, bringing out the graceful curve of the neck, the turn of the long, branching horns, and the dainty, slender legs.

[38]

“i should like to make a picture, too,” said bolo eagerly.

“you may try,” said bek, handing him the bit of brown soft stone he had been using.

so bolo tried and tried, but when he was done no one could have told what it was he had been trying to draw.

“i will make pictures yet some day,” cried bolo, throwing down the stone. “i will make the cave bear i killed, and the mammoths.”

“see here, now,” said bek.

he took a large, smooth piece of the tusk of the mammoth the cave men had killed. one eye had given him one of the ivory tusks because he knew the old man loved beautiful things, and the ivory was very smooth and beautiful. then he took a sharp flint awl and began to make deep, careful marks in the ivory. bolo watched him with great interest.

“why, it is the mammoth itself,” he cried at last. “only wait, bek; the great tusk did not curve up quite like that. it was more like this.”

bolo took the awl and made a mark that he thought showed more nearly how the tusk looked. yet he was not quite satisfied and tried again, and the next time both he and bek declared that the curve was right.

“now we must put in the long hair,” said bek, drawing short, straight lines down over the animal’s head and shoulders. “there, now! here is the eye, too, and the big, flapping ears. ah, ha, my bolo, we must show this to one eye and see what he says.”

when one eye saw the drawing he became very grave.

[39]

“it is a charm,” he said. “whoever carries that can never be harmed by a mammoth.”

so he bored a hole through one end of the ivory and ran a thong through it. then he hung it about bolo’s neck. the lad was very proud of his new ornament and showed everybody the wonderful picture bek had made.

day after day bolo worked with bek in his cave. many were the drawings he made, or tried to make, and at last old bek began to say he was doing very well.

“the animals like to have us make their pictures,” said bek. “they think we want to be friends with them when we do that.”

“i will make them look more like animals,” said bolo. “i will cut them out with my flint knife.” so after he had drawn a picture of a reindeer he cut it out very carefully.

now it was bek’s turn to be surprised.

“i had never thought of doing that,” he said. so he, too, tried to carve pictures of animals he had drawn.

by and by other cave men began to be interested in the pictures that bek and bolo made, and soon many of the men were trying their skill. the women brought a sort of red and brown clay, and painted the animals after the men had drawn them on the cave walls.

and although all this was thousands and thousands of years ago, the drawings and paintings are still to be seen. they tell us many things more than have been related here about the cave men of bolo’s time. they tell us of another animal, more terrible than the cave bear or the mammoth, the dreaded sabre-tooth, striped with rich, velvety brown like a tiger, and strong and bloodthirsty[40] as a lion. they tell us of the ways in which the cave men fought and lived and learned, and so came to know many things that were never dreamed of in the days of bolo. but all that is another story.

what is of more interest to us just now is to know that when flame died, many years after the great hunt, fisher was made keeper of the great fire in her stead. this was the highest honor the clan could show, excepting only the honor they had shown to one eye when they made him their leader.

“bolo must learn many things,” said one eye. “i am growing old and the clan must never again be without a lawmaker. and the man who is to make the laws must be fearless and wise and good.”

it was long after that, however, before bolo took his place at the head of the clan. for one eye lived to an old age, and became wiser and more just with every year.

little antelope grew up as pretty and graceful as the beautiful animal whose name she bore. when the young chief of another clan, living in a valley far across the hills, saw her as she sat sewing skins beside her mother, and called to her to follow him, she did so gladly, for he was tall and brave and handsome.

there was another pretty maiden, too, whom bolo thought the loveliest he had ever seen. so, one day he found a new cave, where no one had ever lived, and made it ready for his own home.

but how he won the maiden, and what brave deeds he did in his long after years cannot be told here. that, too, is another story.