easily, and after some time held up a beautiful ax. It was broad at
the sharp end and narrow at the head. Thorn saw the little places all
over it where the chips had come off.

He looked at it and laughed, and then sat down and tried to do what
Redtop had done. He struck with his hammer stone, but the bowlder did
not chip. He worked on and on, for a very, very long time. Still the
bowlder would not chip, and his arm was ready to drop off.

[Illustration: He struck with his hammer stone]

At last Redtop said, "Enough for to-day! You will do."

Thorn threw down his stones with a shout and ran to his grandfather.

Old Flint sat at work under a big beech tree. At his side there was a
little pile of bowlders, and about him there were chips of flint.

"Well," he said, as he looked up at the boy, "how is stone work?"

"It is not so easy as it looks, and it makes my arm hurt," said the boy
soberly; "but Redtop said that I would do."

"Um," grunted the old man with an unsmiling face, the while laughing to
himself.

He worked on. After a time he said, "The little thing you shoot with,
your bow--did you bring it?"

"Oh, yes!"