was a stone ax; an ax heavier than any battle-ax of mediaeval times, its
haft a scant three feet in length, inclosing the ax through a split in
the tough wood, all being held in place by a taut and hardened mass of
knotted sinews. It was a fearful weapon, but one only to be wielded by
such a man as this, one with arms almost as mighty as those of the
gorilla.

The man sat himself upon the limb beside his wife and child. The two
talked together in their clucking language for a moment or two, but few
words were wasted. Words had not their present abundance in those days;
action was everything. The man was hungry, too, and wanted to get home as
soon as possible. He had secured food, which was awaiting them, and this
slight, annoying episode of the day must be ended promptly. He clambered
easily up the tree and wrenched off a deadened limb at least two yards in
length, then tumbling back again and passing his wife and child along the
main branch, he swung down to where the leaping beast could almost reach
him. The heavy club he carried gave him an advantage. With a whistling
sweep, as the hyena leaped upward in its ravenous folly, came this huge
club crashing against the thick skull, a blow so fair and stark and
strong that the stunned beast fell backward upon the ground, and then,
down, lightly as any monkey, dropped the cave man. The huge stone ax went
crashing into the brain of the quivering brute, and that was the end of
the incident. Mother and child leaped down together, and the man and
woman went chattering toward their cave. This was not a particularly
eventful day with them; they were accustomed to such things.

They went strolling off through the beech glades, the strong, hairy,
heavy-jawed man, the muscular but more lightly built woman and the child,
perched firmly and chattering blithely upon her shoulder as they walked,
or, rather, half trotted along the river side and toward the cave. They