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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates 
 
 https://archive.org/details/prehistoricworldOObert 
 
The Frustrated Sacrifice. 
 
THE 
 
 Pre-Historic World. 
 
 BY 
 
 fiLIE BERTH ET a 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 
 BY 
 
 MARY J. SAFFORD. 
 
 PORTER & COATES 
 PHILADELPHIA. 
 
Copyright 1879, by PORTER & COATE& 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 T HERE is an epoch in the life of humanity which, as 
 its name indicates, could have no history; it is that 
 long period of ages which elapsed between the moment 
 when man first appeared on earth and the time when oral 
 tradition and writing began to establish the acts of his 
 existence. 
 
 This unknown period then seemed to belong solely to 
 the domain of poesy and romance ; but if poesy lives by 
 brilliant fictions, romance — which, as has been said of 
 Walter Scott's masterpieces, is often “ truer than history’ * 
 — requires* in order to interest, to rest upon fact. Now, 
 romances of the ages which preceded historic times have 
 long been impossible ; all the elements were lacking. The 
 immortal Cuvier, the inventor of Palaeontology, would not 
 even admit that man existed in that remote antiquity. Eu- 
 ropean scientists refused to believe that the flint objects 
 found in the Quaternary rock by the illustrious Boucher 
 de Perthes might be the products of human industry. It is 
 only within a few years that new, incontestable, startling 
 discoveries have liberated this period from the mysterious 
 clouds that veiled it. 
 
 Science has now obtained the most exact and positive 
 results. It not only knows that man existed myriads of 
 , years before historic times, but determines to what race 
 he belonged, amid what surroundings he lived ; and from 
 , them deduces his character, manners, and customs. It has 
 found his weapons, his barbaric ornaments, the utensils of 
 his rustic dwelling, and even the remains of his coarse 
 food. Day by day discoveries multiply in all quarters of 
 the globe, and at the present time, by means of analogy, 
 a perfectly clear idea of pre-historic man may be formed. 
 ^ Thus the romance of those remote epochs has become 
 X 3 
 
4 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 possible, and we have ventured to undertake it, scrupulously 
 following step by step the indications of science. We have 
 endeavored to sum up in three tales the discoveries of the 
 scientists of all countries, among whom Cuvier, Boucher de 
 Perthes, Le Hon, Lartet, Lyell, and G. de Mortillet are 
 the most eminent. The first of these tales, The Parisians 
 of the Stone Age, is a study of the inhabitants of Parisian 
 soil, who were the contemporaries of the mammoth and 
 cave-bear. These inhabitants, who seem to have belonged 
 to the Mongol race, are considered as having lived by 
 families and in caves, given up to the fiercest passions, the 
 most brutal instincts. In The Lacustrian City, whose 
 action takes place several thousand years later, man, who 
 belongs to the race called the dolmen nation , lives by tribes 
 in clusters of terrestrial or lacustrian habitations; it is the 
 intermediate Age of Polished Stone and the commence- 
 ment of the Bronze Age. Finally, in the third tale, The 
 Foundation of Paris, we have studied the Age of Metals, 
 and the mode of life of the Gallic nations several centuries 
 before Caesar’s arrival in Gaul. There, although touching 
 upon the most ancient historical traditions, we have de- 
 pended especially upon the monuments Archaeology has re- 
 cently revealed. 
 
 It will be understood how many difficulties this totally 
 novel work presented. We have been obliged to frame in 
 a fiction— which we have endeavored to render interesting 
 — numerous details whose sole interest consists in exactness. 
 We have striven to reconstruct, to revive, this unknown 
 world, and, if we had not feared to fatigue the reader, 
 might have cited some scientist as authority at every sen- 
 tence, almost every line. But in a popular work we have 
 thought it our duty to confine ourselves to the most in- 
 dispensable quotations. 
 
 The reader shall decide whetner we have attained our 
 purpose. To-morrow, perhaps other discoveries will modify 
 the knowledge already gained, open a wider field to the 
 imagination ; but whatever may be the fate of this work, 
 we shall be glad to have been the literary pioneer who first 
 penetrated regions so long unknown, and applaud whoever 
 shall desire to attempt the task again. 
 
 ELIE BERTHET. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE PARISIANS OF THE STONE AGE. 
 
 I. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 The Landscape. n 
 
 II. 
 
 The Cave 16 
 
 III. 
 
 The Guest 24 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Abduction 32 
 
 V. 
 
 Vengeance 43 
 
 ** 5 
 
6 
 
 CONTENTS . 
 
 VI. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Scenes of the Primitive World 59 
 
 VII. 
 
 A Night in the Woods 68 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Family 76 
 
 PART II. 
 
 THE LACUSTRIAN CITY. 
 
 (Age of Polished Stone.) 
 
 I. 
 
 The Return 93 
 
 II. 
 
 The Chief’s Daughters 101 
 
 III. 
 
 The Priestess 12c 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Wedding 
 
 132 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 7 
 
 V. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Battle 143 
 
 VI. 
 
 The Election 154 
 
 VII. 
 
 The City of the Beavers . 166 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Attack 181 
 
 PART III. 
 
 THE FOUNDATION OF PARIS. 
 
 (Age of Metals.) 
 
 I. 
 
 The Gallic Festival 199 
 
 II. 
 
 The Cup 210 
 
 III. 
 
 The Auspices 
 
 220 
 
8 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Apparition 231 
 
 V. 
 
 The Pirogue 244 
 
 VI. 
 
 The Solitude 254 
 
 VII. 
 
 Loutouhezi . 262 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The VjfiT . 271 
 
 IX. 
 
 The Allies 285 
 
 X. 
 
 The Compact * 296 
 
Part I. 
 
 The Parisians of the Stone Age. 
 

 
THE 
 
 PRE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 ET us go back through the ages ; let us pass several 
 
 thousand years beyond the forty centuries common 
 tradition assigns as the date of the creation of the world 
 before the birth of Jesus Christ 
 
 We are in the geological epoch called by scientific 
 men the “ Quaternary ” period. Humanity is still very 
 near its origin. It extends through the period which 
 preceded the age of metals, and has received the name 
 of the Age of Polished Stone . 
 
 ' This epoch, which but a short time ago was shrouded 
 in mysterious obscurity, has within the past few years 
 been revealed by monuments so numerous, so authentic, 
 so indisputable, that it is possible to describe it exactly, 
 as Cuvier described antediluvian monsters from the bones 
 found in the geological strata. 
 
 In the place where, so many centuries after, the city 
 of Paris was to be built, extended a strange and savage 
 solitude. If we climb one of the hills that overlook it— 
 
 I. 
 
 THE LANDSCAPE . 
 
 11 
 
12 
 
 THE PREHISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 for instance, that which in historic times was to be called 
 Montmartre — see what a scene we behold. 
 
 As far as the eye can reach there is nothing but trees, 
 foliage, and water. On all the hills, now called Menil- 
 montant, Chaumont, Sainte-Genevieve, Mont Valerien, 
 tower oaks, pines, beeches, immense masses of foliage 
 that extend to the verge of the horizon, perhaps to the 
 limits of the future Gaul. Swamps, however, appeared 
 here and there. One, formed by a brook that flowed 
 from Menilmontant, covered the space which was after- 
 ward to be occupied by the farm of La Grange-Bateliere, 
 then the two opera-houses, and extended to the site of 
 the Hotel-de-Ville. A second, at the bottom of Mont 
 Lucotitius, marked the mouth of the Bievre. But the 
 place where the swamps were most extensive was on the 
 banks of the Seine, which had not yet completely hol- 
 lowed out the valley whose centre it now occupies. 
 
 The Seine did not then resemble the peaceful, civilized, 
 sleepy river that, confined by majestic wharves, now flows 
 beneath magnificent bridges. It wound between the 
 cliffs that in many places bordered its course, and its 
 bed frequently changed. It had the width, swiftness, 
 and impetuosity of the great American rivers. Its yel- 
 low, muddy waves and rapid current swept away whole 
 trees, like the Orinoco and Amazon. On the stirface of 
 this tawny sheet of water appeared the three or four 
 islands that were to contain the Lutece of the Gauls, 
 but these islands were bare and sandy. Only the prin- 
 cipal one, destined to become the “city” of Paris, was 
 covered with brushwood, whose highest branches held 
 clods of earth and clumps of dry moss, as if the ancient 
 Sequana , in its frequent inundations, submerged them. 
 
THE LANDSCAPE. 
 
 13 
 
 The whole of this vast basin displayed to the eye 
 neither structures of wood or stone, boats, roads, nor 
 anything that showed the labor of man. Everywhere 
 appeared high grass, trees overgrown with tangled vines, 
 stagnant or flowing water; in short, a desert, which, 
 however, swarmed with living creatures. 
 
 Above the river appeared the hideous heads of hip- 
 popotami emerging from its depths. These monsters, 
 whose congeners now exist only in the rivers and great 
 lakes of Africa, came in herds on sunny days to sleep 
 on the island where now stand Notre Dame and the 
 Palais de Justice. Sometimes, too, a loud noise was 
 heard in the swamps ; the reeds and rushes shook vio- 
 lently ; water and slime were spouted into the air. 
 This whirlwind of mud was caused by the gambols of 
 the rhinoceroses with chambered nostrils ; and these for- 
 midable animals, with massive limbs and a double horn 
 on the nose, soon gained the shore, shaking their thick 
 hides and uttering loud roars. 
 
 In the glades of the forest and on the pasture-land were 
 numerous animals of various kinds, principally belonging 
 to the herbivorous order. There were herds of the wild 
 oxen, called aurochs and uri, which were still so nume- 
 rous in Gaul at the time of the invasion of the Franks ; 
 reindeer and the common deer, grazing side by side with 
 the gigantic antlered megatherium, a species now extinct. 
 Troops of wild horses, far smaller than our domestic ani- 
 mal, but full of strength and spirit, were also visible. The 
 king of this herbivorous population was the mammoth, 
 that huge elephant with curved tusks, body covered 
 with hair, and long black mane, whose size was twice 
 that of our modern elephant. The mammoth usually 
 
H 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 grazed alone or with a small number of animals of the 
 same species, and then neither reindeer, wild horses, 
 nor aurochs feared the proximity of these colossal 
 creatures. But when any cause — a migration, an alarm 
 - — united the mammoths in a vast herd and hurled them 
 through the forests, what a magnificent spectacle they 
 must have afforded ! The earth shook under their 
 heavy tread ; the grass and bushes were trampled, 
 crushed in an instant as if by the passage of a thou- 
 sand chariots; and the oldest trees, torn up by the 
 roots or broken, left wide avenues, like those opened 
 by waterspouts in tropical forests. 
 
 Yet, we repeat, the mammoth was not usually feared 
 hy the inoffensive ruminants, and, except for a few 
 quarrels between different species, their days were suf- 
 ficiently peaceful ; but as soon as the sun set the scene 
 suddenly changed. 
 
 Then arose the screams of the hyena, the howls of 
 innumerable wolves, with which sometimes mingled the 
 growls of the cave-bear. At this ominous signal the 
 herbivorous animals, which were already seeking shelter 
 for the night, pressed trembling against each other. The 
 herds of aurochs and reindeer presented to their coward- 
 ly enemies a row of threatening horns, as the bison and 
 deer of America do in similar circumstances ; the horses 
 prepared to defend themselves by violent kicks. Usual- 
 ly, these demonstrations were sufficient to keep off the 
 wolves and hyenas, which, in spite of their numbers, 
 only ventured to attack single animals. But often a ter- 
 rible tumult arose in the darkness ; thousands of animals, 
 wild with terror, fled through the forests and over the 
 plains in every direction, while a loud roar echoed from 
 
THE LANDSCAPE. 
 
 15 
 
 the depths of the waste. The cave-lion, that formidable 
 feline which partook of the characteristics of both lion 
 and tiger, and, according to the bones found in Parisian 
 soil, was nearly fourteen feet long and taller than our 
 largest bulls, was the cause of this alarm, and had just 
 seized a victim. No resistance was possible against such 
 an enemy; all the creatures of this antediluvian world 
 were filled with terror; even the mammoths, infected 
 by the general fright, fled at full speed like the reindeer. 
 
 Such were the quadrupeds that inhabited the banks of 
 the Seine in the Quaternary period. What conflicts, strug- 
 gles, scenes of carnage, incessantly occurred amid these 
 innumerable animals, powerful or weak, crafty or cruel ! 
 The most feeble became the prey of the strongest ; the 
 large devoured the small, according to the primordial 
 law of Nature. Cries of pain and death arose every 
 hour. Everywhere blood flowed in streams, and fierce 
 mouths were always at hand to eagerly drink it. The 
 immense masses of bones found in the earth prove the 
 exuberance of life at that period and the grand scale 
 on which extermination was practised to correct its 
 excess. 
 
 But man, it will be asked, man, cast helpless and naked 
 into the midst of these carnivorous animals, amid these 
 huge mammoths, hyenas, bears, and lions the size of 
 bulls, where was he and how did he live ? 
 
 Man ! Let us see. 
 
II. 
 
 THE CAVE. 
 
 T HE sun was setting at the close of a foggy day. Al- 
 though it was in the month of August, the air was 
 cold ; the foliage of the forest had the rusty hues that 
 now appear only at the end of autumn. The Parisian 
 climate then resembled that of Sweden and Norway, 
 for the time was very near the geological epoch called 
 the Glacial Period , during which the fate of the human 
 race becomes so enigmatical. At this time, in fact, the 
 earth grew cold without any known cause ; Europe was 
 covered with immense glaciers, to which we owe the 
 transportation of isolated rocks now called “ erratic 
 blocks.” Moss,* which at the present day grows only 
 in Greenland, is found in the strata of the Quaternary 
 period in the latitude of Paris, and we have seen that 
 among the animals living on Parisian soil were the 
 reindeer, the rhinoceros with chambered nostrils, and 
 the mammoth. Now the reindeer inhabits Lapland, 
 and the last region occupied by the other two species 
 before their disappearance from the surface of the globe 
 was the snowy waste near the North Pole. 
 
 At the time of which we are now speaking there was 
 
 * Hypnum grcenlandicum and Hypnum sarmentosum , Mus6e de Saint* 
 Germain. 
 
 16 
 
THE CAVE . 
 
 1 7 
 
 halfway down the hill of Montmartre a large grotto, whose 
 entrance was protected by enormous stones forming a 
 cyclopean structure and leaving only a narrow passage. 
 No trace of agriculture was visible around. The hill, 
 like the plain, was covered by the virgin forest. Only a 
 few paths, opened by wild beasts, enabled one to move 
 through the almost impenetrable thickets. 
 
 The approaches to this grotto were piled with broken 
 bones of all sizes. Yet, if it had first been hollowed out 
 by some large burrowing animal, the cave could not now 
 be inhabited by it: the structure that protected the en- 
 trance, in spite of its rudeness, was the work of human 
 hands; and, besides, smoke, an infallible sign of the 
 presence of man, rose through the stones placed one 
 above another. 
 
 In fact, if we enter the cave we shall find ourselves in 
 the presence of a Parisian family of that remote period. 
 
 Only a dim light came through the opening, and the 
 fire on the hearth did not blaze. Still, we could see that 
 the family consisted of five persons— the father, mother, 
 a daughter seventeen or eighteen years old, and two boys, 
 one twelve, the other nearly ten. These people did not 
 represent the elegant type of the Caucasian race which at 
 the present day is predominant in Europe ; they belonged, 
 on the contrary, to a race similar to the Esquimaux and 
 Lapps. They were short and sturdy in figure. It would 
 have been difficult to distinguish the exact hue of their 
 sun-burnt and dirty complexions, but their skulls were 
 of the elongated form naturalists call dolichocephalic 
 (long-headed), and which shows a low degree of intel- 
 ligence. Their long, straight hair grew very low on the 
 forehead. Their eyes were small, fierce in expression, 
 2* B 
 
1 8 THE T RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 and had extremely prominent brows. Their jaws were 
 also very prominent, their noses flat, and in their shape- 
 less garments of reindeer or bear skin they presented 
 the appearance of actual savages. 
 
 The father, a man fifty-five or sixty years old, was sit- 
 ting near the entrance of the cave ; he seemed ill, and his 
 left arm was bound to his body by a strip of undressed 
 leather. On one of his hunting expeditions, a few days 
 before, this arm had been torn by the claws of a wild 
 beast, and doubtless the painful wound diminished his 
 usual activity. 
 
 His limbs, like those of his family, were thin and 
 slender, while his hands and feet were immensely large. 
 His gray beard mingled with long hair of the same 
 color, which, full of impurities, floated over his shoul- 
 ders. He was clad in a sort of tunic of auroch-skins, 
 which left his arms and legs bare. Although no danger 
 threatened at the moment, one of the axes of hewn flint 
 which have been found in such immense quantities in 
 the strata of rock of that period lay within his reach. 
 To make use of his leisure -time, he held in his unin- 
 jured hand a sort of hammer made of stone pierced in 
 the middle, with which he was sharpening the point of 
 a stone arrow. But perhaps his wound made him un- 
 usually awkward, for ever and anon he ground his teeth 
 and uttered an angry growl. 
 
 The mother and daughter were seated on the ground 
 a few paces off, and while the older woman was cleaning 
 a fresh skin with a flint scraper, the young girl was sew- 
 ing, by means of a bone needle and the sinew of an ani- 
 mal, a garment intended for one of her brothers. The 
 shape of their garments differed very slightly from those 
 
THE CAVE . 
 
 19 
 
 of the husband and boys ; they wore tunics of skins, and 
 the mother, with her hair hanging over her wrinkled face, 
 her eyes reddened by the smoke, flabby neck and auroch- 
 skin garment soiled with grease and dried blood, was d 
 most repulsive specimen of the feminine sex in those an 
 cient times. 
 
 On the other hand, the daughter, thanks to her youth, 
 had a sort of relative beauty. True, her features pre- 
 served the indelible signs of her race, the prominent 
 jaws, thick lips, flat nose, small eyes, and low forehead ; 
 but she did not lack freshness, and her person revealed 
 the first dawning of that coquetry which was afterward 
 to be so prodigiously developed in her descendants, the 
 Parisians. Thus, her long black hair, fastened by a 
 leather thong, formed a queue in the Chinese fashion. 
 She had not had sufficient skill to twist it or arrange it 
 on her head like a crown, but the long braid, falling 
 now over, the right shoulder and now the left, was by 
 no means ungraceful. Besides, this cave-coquette wore 
 two necklaces — one of wolves’ teeth polished by rub- 
 bing, the other of shells. Around her arms were 
 several bracelets made of shells, and even scarlet ber- 
 ries recently gathered in the neighboring thickets. But 
 the special charm in this odd face was the air of mis- 
 chievous merriment that characterized it, and the tend- 
 ency of the thick lips to smile and show the superb 
 white teeth. 
 
 Let us finish the description of this family of savages. 
 The two boys, squatting near the fire, were watching the 
 cooking of a dozen small animals broiling on the hot 
 coals for supper. Half naked in their short garments, 
 they showed remarkable activity and agility. With 
 
20 
 
 THE TEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 uncombed hair and dirty faces, their task did not oc~ 
 cupy their attention so completely as to prevent them 
 from occasionally indulging in noisy gambols. They 
 tumbled over each other, half screaming, half laughing, 
 or rolled about on the ground like monkeys. The 
 younger lad had a whistle made of a bone,* from which 
 he occasionally drew sharp sounds of the most ear-split- 
 ting character ; then the parents interfered to restore order. 
 The father and mother uttered a low growl, the young 
 girl raised her arm as if to strike them; and, though 
 the two little satyrs did not seem to be much alarmed 
 by these threatening demonstrations, they remained 
 silent and motionless a moment, to begin again a little 
 later. 
 
 The dwelling seemed perfectly suited to its rude occu- 
 pants. The grotto was rough and irregular, and the faint 
 light coming from without could not illumine the whole 
 interior. It contained no article of furniture. The bed 
 consisted of a heap of moss and dry leaves, on which 
 father, mother, and children slept pell-mell without un- 
 dressing. The seats were blocks of stone. Not a dish, 
 not a piece of earthenware, was to be seen. Yet the 
 family appeared to be very wealthy for those times. 
 From pegs of wood and bone, fastened into the chinks 
 of the cave, hung axes and knives of flint, a bow and 
 arrows, together with mammoths’ tusks and reindeers’ 
 antlers, intended for the manufacture of articles indis- 
 pensable in the household.f It might be supposed that 
 the bones scattered over the floor of the grotto, and 
 
 * See a whistle of this kind, made of a reindeer-bone, in the Mus6e 
 de Saint-Germain. 
 
 -j* Musee de Saint-Germain. 
 
THE CAVE . 
 
 21 
 
 which rolled under the feet every instant, were destined 
 for the same purpose. These bones exhaled an infec- 
 tious odor, which, blended with that of the food broiling 
 on the coals and the acrid smoke filling the subterranean 
 habitation, formed a repulsive atmosphere, unendurable 
 to any one who had not been long accustomed to it. 
 
 The conversation did not appear to be very active. 
 Language at that period, like the dialects of certain 
 Indian tribes of the present day, must have consisted 
 of only a few hundred words, for there were no complex 
 ideas to express. Most of the time they talked in 
 monosyllables, or even by signs, yet they understood 
 each other sufficiently well for the very simple acts to 
 be executed in common. 
 
 At the moment when, the sun having set, the cave 
 began to grow darker, the father, who was called Lynx 
 (he had either given himself the title or received it from 
 his neighbors, for there were no family names in those 
 days), rose from his seat and uttered a short exclama- 
 tion. This was the signal to close the cave ; already 
 howls began to echo from the woods as usual, and 
 there was cause to fear the attack of some wild 
 beast. 
 
 Instantly every one was on the move. The object to 
 be accomplished was to push before the entrance a huge 
 stone that rested against the side of the cave, and fasten it 
 in its place by means of a piece of unhewn timber. Lynx 
 could usually perform the task alone, but, as his wound 
 lessened his strength, he now required the assistance of 
 the family. The two women, stronger than many of the 
 men of our times, came to help him. The children also 
 wanted to aid, but, as tfiey were in the way, received sev- 
 
22 
 
 THE TEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 eral antediluvian cuffs, strikingly like modern ones, only 
 they were perhaps more vigorous and brutal. 
 
 A few minutes were sufficient to barricade the cave. 
 The interior was now lighted only by the fire, on which 
 the children from time to time threw pieces of dry wood. 
 But the daughter of the house, who was called Deer on 
 account of her swiftness of foot, hastily lighted a resinous 
 larch-bough to serve as a torch, while the old mother, 
 named, in consequence of a natural infirmity, Deaf, busied 
 herself in making preparations for supper. This supper, 
 alas ! was by no means an abundant meal. There was 
 no agriculture in those days ; the people lived entirely 
 by the products of the chase. So, when the head of a 
 family found himself, as under the present cfrcumstances, 
 unable to hunt, the fare was meagre enough. On this 
 day the supper consisted of the little animals cooked on 
 the embers, and which were water-rats. Rats seem to 
 have played an important part in the food of primitive 
 man ; * these had been procured by the older boy, who 
 from his skill was called Rat-Catcher, while the younger 
 lad, the boy with the whistle, had been named Whistler. 
 Deaf, for her share, brought from a corner several hand- 
 fuls of acorns and chestnuts picked up under the trees, 
 and added them to the repast. 
 
 They were sitting on the ground around the fire, and 
 the master of the house was already stretching out his 
 huge hand, with its hooked nails, to seize a broiled rat, 
 when a harsh, guttural cry, that seemed to be a call, came 
 from without. The cry was so harsh in its intonations 
 that it might have been uttered by some animal in the 
 forest, but the inhabitants of the cave started ; they had 
 * Louis Figuier, Primitive Man . 
 
THE CAVE . 
 
 23 
 
 recognized a human voice. The call being repeated, 
 Lynx answered by a similar exclamation. Then some 
 one said, 
 
 “ I’m Red, who lives on the Green Mountain, on the 
 other side of the river. The wolves and hyenas are al- 
 ready prowling about, and the lion is beginning to roar. 
 Let me in; I’ve killed a reindeer, and we’ll eat it to- 
 gether.” 
 
 The name of the hunter who asked hospitality was 
 perhaps no recommendation to the master of the house, 
 who was distrustful by character and necessity ; but to 
 turn a man from the door during the night was to doom 
 him to almost inevitable death. Besides, the famished 
 family had heard the hunter’s proposal, and between the 
 rocks piled one above another that protected the entrance 
 of the cavern saw that Red really bore on his shoulders 
 a fine animal of most appetizing appearance. 
 
 “A reindeer!” Deer and the children exclaimed joy- 
 ously. 
 
 “A reindeer!” repeated Deaf. 
 
 Lynx, in his turn, seemed to comprehend that a meal 
 of venison was preferable to the lean water-rats and acorns 
 that formed the bill of fare that evening. This consider- 
 ation conquered the prudential motives that had at first 
 made him hesitate to admit a stranger. So he resolved 
 to remove, with the aid of his family, the rock that served 
 as a door, and when the hunter had entered the entrance 
 of the cave was barricaded again. 
 
III. 
 
 THE GUEST. 
 
 T HE new-comer looked still more fierce and brutal 
 than the master of the house. He was stout and 
 in the prime of life ; his special distinction was thick red 
 hair floating over his shoulders, and a beard of the same 
 color that completely concealed his mouth : from this he 
 derived his name. His bear-skin tunic, as usual, left bare 
 his limbs, which were covered with red hair like those of 
 Esau in the Bible. He too wore bracelets and necklaces 
 made of shells and the teeth of wild animals. His accou- 
 trements were remarkable : besides the flint knife and axe 
 and the arrows with stone heads thrust into his belt, he 
 carried in one hand a bow whose string was made of the 
 entrails of some animal. The other hand held a sort of 
 club, formed of the lower jaw of a large beast with its 
 sharp canine teeth. A long bone served as a handle for 
 this weapon, which was very heavy and must have been 
 formidable.* 
 
 * This sort of club, made of a bear’s jaw, seems to have been frequently 
 used in the Stone Age. According to a German paper of recent date, a 
 weapon of this description has just been discovered in the grotto of Ho- 
 henfels in Wurtemberg. Everything we say here about the man of the 
 caves on Parisian soil is confirmed by the discoveries made in the Grotto 
 of Iiohenfels. (See Gazette de Cologne , November, 1871.) 
 
 24 
 
THE GUEST. 
 
 25 
 
 Red made no sign of greeting on entering the cave; 
 courtesy was unknown among these rude beings, who 
 did not even live in tribes, only in families. He con- 
 tented himself with throwing down the reindeer, at 
 which the women and children instantly rushed like 
 dogs on a quarry. Without paying the slightest at- 
 tention to them, the hunter sat down wearily on a stone, 
 and seemed to notice no one except the master of the 
 habitation. He still held in his hand his terrible club, 
 to be used at the slightest warning. 
 
 Lynx, on his part, had made no sign of welcome to 
 his guest, but seized his axe. Both gazed intently at 
 each other without exchanging a word. 
 
 Nevertheless, this was not their first meeting. Red, 
 as he had said, lived with his family in a cave on the 
 side of Mont Saint Genevieve, afterward called by the 
 Romans Mont Lucotitius, on the opposite bank of the 
 Seine. Now, as there were neither boats nor bridges 
 to cross the river, and the stream with its swift current, 
 vast swamps, hippopotami, and rhinoceroses with cham- 
 bered nostrils, was not easy to pass either by fording or 
 on a log guided by a pole, intercourse was not very fre- 
 quent between the scattered inhabitants of Montmartre 
 and those of the Quartier Latin. It was only when a 
 hunter from one or the other bank was on his rounds 
 that, as in the present case, transient relations existed 
 between them. 
 
 Lynx and Red, who were not on the best of terms, 
 continued to watch each other with glittering eyes. But 
 the hunter at last seemed to perceive that he ought to 
 show some signs of interest in the master of the habita- 
 tion where he was receiving hospitality, and pointing to 
 
 3 
 
26 
 
 THE PREHISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 Lynx’s arm, swathed in an offensive skin, “ Hurt?” he 
 asked in his guttural voice. 
 
 “ Yes — hyena. Base, cowardly beast !” replied Lynx, 
 grinding his teeth. 
 
 The memory of his accident appeared to rouse his 
 anger and change the course of his thoughts. He went 
 up to the fleshless head of an animal that lay in the cor- 
 ner of the cave, and dealt it a blow with his axe that shat- 
 tered it in fragments. It was the skull of the hyena that 
 had wounded him, and which had been eaten by the 
 family during the preceding days. This puerile revenge 
 accomplished, he resumed his seat near his guest, 
 who no longer thought of anything but watching the 
 new preparations for supper, for he was almost fam- 
 ishing. 
 
 The family were not inactive. With the skill given 
 by habit, the two women, assisted by the children, had 
 set to work to skin and cut up the reindeer. The hide 
 having been quickly removed, large venison steaks re- 
 placed the wretched water-rats, which were contemptu- 
 ously thrust aside, to the dismay of Rat-Catcher. Be- 
 sides, the company, while waiting for the more solid 
 portion of the repast, regaled themselves with another 
 kind of dainty. 
 
 The prevailing taste of this race seems to have been 
 for the marrow of the bones of animals. This is the 
 explanation given for the immense quantity of bones 
 split lengthwise found in the geological strata of the 
 Quaternary period. These exquisite side-dishes had not 
 been forgotten; the large bones of the reindeer had 
 been cracked with stones, and, to give the steaks time 
 to cook to a nicety, guest, father, mother, and children 
 
THE GUEST. 
 
 2 ? 
 
 began to suck the marrow, still raw and warm, of the 
 ruminant. 
 
 But Red was not entirely absorbed in this sensual 
 gratification. His tawny eyes attentively followed every 
 movement of Deer, who was helping her mother 
 prepare the venison. She performed this sufficiently 
 repulsive task with a heavy grace, an artless sprightli- 
 ness, that seemed to delight the rude hunter. Thus, 
 while the clothes, hands, and even the face, of Deaf 
 were stained with blood, the daughter had found means 
 to avoid these hideous splashes and preserve her neat- 
 ness. Armed with her flint knife — a marvel of art for 
 the times, for the deer-horn handle was adorned with 
 carving — she delicately detached the sinews, which 
 when dried were to serve many household uses. While 
 performing her task she sometimes addressed a merry 
 word to the young brothers gambolling around her, or 
 uttered a shrill laugh, which, though perhaps somewhat 
 vacant, was full of mirth. 
 
 Red, in a sort of rapture, forgot to suck the marrow 
 of a huge bone he had seized. But when supper was 
 ready he no longer thought of anything except doing 
 honor to the repast, for the satisfaction of the appetite 
 in these rude natures was the first and most imperious 
 necessity. 
 
 They took their places round the fire, and each 
 snatched a steak from the embers. Yet there was a 
 sort of hierarchy among the table-companions. The 
 men helped themselves first, then came the women, and 
 then the boys. All tore their food to pieces. Not a 
 word was exchanged, but by way of compensation their 
 jaws made a horrible noise. This noise was caused by 
 
28 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 the peculiar shape of the mouth among the individuals 
 of this primitive race. Instead of having the upper jaw 
 project considerably above the lower one, like ours, their 
 jaws fitted exactly, which produced a singular snapping 
 sound when they took food. Thus the teeth of Lynx 
 and Deaf, who were advanced in years, were half worn 
 down,* and this arrangement of the jaws caused an in- 
 distinctness of pronunciation in speaking. 
 
 The appearance of the grotto at this moment can 
 easily be imagined. It was filled with a dense, nause- 
 ous, suffocating smoke. The fire no longer blazed ; the 
 resinous branch used as a torch looked like a red spot 
 in the hot mist; and the perspiration was streaming 
 down the faces of the company. 
 
 But nothing disheartened the party, an example of 
 whose voracity could now be furnished only by certain 
 tribes of Indians. The first supply of steaks having 
 disappeared, a second was prepared, then a third, until 
 the reindeer was entirely devoured. Then the com- 
 pany, thoroughly gorged, seemed to think of nothing 
 but sleep. The children were the first to reach the back 
 of the cave, where there was a heap of moss, on which 
 they threw themselves and fell asleep without further 
 ceremony. Deaf was not slow in following their ex- 
 ample, and only Lynx, his daughter, and the hunter 
 remained. 
 
 The pain of his wound, or perhaps some secret anx- 
 iety, had prevented the head of the family from extend- 
 
 * This peculiarity is especially noticeable in the fossil man now in the 
 Museum of the Jardin des Plantes. Though the skeleton is that of a 
 young, strong individual, the teeth both in the upper and lower jaw are 
 half worn off. 
 
THE GUEST. 
 
 2 9 
 
 mg his gluttony to the last extreme, and Deer had shown 
 herself sufficiently temperate, though she had played a 
 brilliant part in the festival. But Red had devoured for 
 his share what would now be enough to surfeit six strong 
 men. Stupefied by this excess of food, he had scarcely 
 strength to rise. Yet he began to look at the young 
 girl, who, having finished her supper, seemed disposed 
 to amuse herself by a little coquetry. She laughed 
 from time to time and rattled her necklaces. 
 
 So, although Lynx had pointed with his finger to a 
 hollow in the ground at some distance from the family 
 couch where his guest might sleep, Red did not seem to 
 notice it. 
 
 He did not remove his eyes from Deer, and suddenly 
 said in his harsh voice, 
 
 “ Lynx, I’ll take your daughter, and kill an auroch to 
 give you in exchange.” 
 
 On hearing this very delicate proposal, Deer burst into 
 a mocking laugh. Her father grasped his axe and an- 
 swered, 
 
 ‘‘No, no. You already have a wife and children on 
 the Green Mountain.” 
 
 Red made a hideous face. 
 
 “ The woman is too old,” he replied, “ and the chil- 
 dren are grown up. Listen, there is a bear near here. 
 I’ll kill him, and take Deer to live in his cave with me. 
 I’m a good hunter. Deer shall never want reindeer or 
 horse meat.” 
 
 This attractive prospect only excited the merriment 
 of the little flirt. 
 
 “ Tm promised to Fair-Hair,” she said saucily. 
 
 Red doubtless knew the person called Fair-Hair, for 
 
30 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 the repulsive features of the inhabitant of Lucotitius 
 assumed a contemptuous expression. 
 
 “ Fair-Hair bad hunter,” he answered ; “ Deer will 
 starve to death. He won’t know how to defend her 
 against the wild beasts.” 
 
 “ He has already killed a mammoth and given his 
 tusks to my father,” cried the young girl, proudly. 
 “ Look !” At the same time she pointed to two colos- 
 sal tusks hanging on the wall of the cave. 
 
 “ Fair-Hair will make beautiful things out of the ivory, 
 like these,” she continued. She held before Red’s eyes 
 her flint knife, whose handle, it will be remembered, was 
 carefully carved, then several little articles of bone orna- 
 mented with drawings of animals — things which, in spite 
 of the coarseness of the work, showed that their maker 
 must be an artist of the first rank’ for the times. 
 
 Red did not look at them ; he snarled with rage and 
 jealousy, while Lynx, whose mind was very dull, seemed 
 proud of his daughter’s eloquence and ready wit. Deer, 
 seeing her rude admirer baffled, added in a jeering tone, 
 
 “ Fair-Hair wants me ; I want nobody else. He likes 
 to laugh, and we laugh together. He’s coming for me 
 to-morrow, and my father will let me go. Let Red hunt 
 the wolf and hyena.” 
 
 Then, still laughing, she ran to the end of the cave, 
 where she lay down between her mother and little 
 brothers. 
 
 Red uttered a furious exclamation and rose to follow 
 her; her father, axe in hand, barred his way. Then he 
 seemed about to turn his rage upon Lynx, but as soon 
 as he stood up the effect of the immense quantity of 
 meat he had eaten made itself felt ; he tottered, yawned 
 
THE GUEST 
 
 3 1 
 
 horribly, and sank heavily on the ground. He stirred 
 a few minutes longer, but soon, like Polyphemus under 
 similar circumstances, remained motionless and fell into 
 a deep sleep on the rough earth. 
 
 Lynx knew by experience that this slumber would not 
 be broken until the next day, and therefore stretched him- 
 self on the heap of moss, where he too soon fell asleep. 
 
IV. 
 
 THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 T HE night passed quietly to the inhabitants of the 
 Montmartre grotto, and nothing disturbed their 
 repose. At the approach of dawn the infernal concert 
 of wild beasts gradually ceased, and at last a ray of 
 light, falling through the chinks in the rocks, entered 
 the subterranean habitation. 
 
 Every one was instantly in motion. The duties of the 
 toilet were not long ; it was only necessary to leave the 
 bed and shake one’s self. Deer was the first to arise, not 
 because she had to attend to household cares, for there 
 were no domestic duties; she merely obeyed the laws 
 of her active temperament, and perhaps the thought of 
 her lover, who was to come that day, occupied her 
 mind. 
 
 However this might be, at the moment she was bound- 
 ing toward the entrance of the cave she heard a loud 
 yawn, and saw her father’s guest, who, drawing up his 
 huge figure to its full height, was stretching himself. 
 Deer was passing him when she felt herself seized by 
 an iron hand, and Red said, 
 
 “ Will Deer come with me ? I’ll give her bear-skins 
 to wear; she shall have all the marrow in my game.” 
 
 32 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 33 
 
 But Deer, by a sudden movement, released herself, 
 and answered with her perpetual laugh, 
 
 “No, no; Fair-Hair will come this morning. He's 
 going to bring me more bracelets and necklaces.” 
 
 “ I’ll kill Fair-Hair,” growled the hunter, clenching 
 his hands. 
 
 He was perhaps going to try to seize the young savage 
 again, but, as we know, the troglodyte family had just 
 risen. Lynx, with the help of his wife and children, 
 had removed the wooden bars and pushed aside the 
 rock that served for a door. At the same instant that 
 a flood of light streamed into the cave the master of 
 the dwelling said to the stranger, in a by no means 
 courteous tone, 
 
 “ It is day. The wild beasts have gone back to their 
 dens. The uri and aurochs are grazing in the plains. 
 It’s time for the hunter to go.” 
 
 This was a formal dismissal, and Red had no cause 
 to be offended, for hospitality was not exercised in a 
 very chivalrous fashion in those days. He picked up 
 his bow and arrows, which he thrust into his belt, then, 
 seizing the jaw he used as a club, seemed about to retire 
 without resistance. 
 
 But before leaving he cast a last glance at Deer. The 
 young girl uttered a still more mocking shout of laugh- 
 ter, as if to insult the disappointment of her unlucky ad- 
 mirer. 
 
 Instantly Red's eyes flashed and a roar of fury escaped 
 his lips. He rushed forward, seized the coquettish beauty 
 by the waist, raised her from the ground, and began to 
 carry her away. 
 
 The whole family, excited by the cries of the strug- 
 
 c 
 
34 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 gling Deer, fell upon the ravisher. Deaf clung to her 
 daughter; the boys seized the legs of the treacherous 
 guest to throw him down. The father threw himself 
 before Red and dealt him a blow on the head with 
 his axe that seemed enough to fell an auroch. 
 
 But the blow was doubtless deadened by the hunter’s 
 thick hair, or else Lynx, weakened by his wound, did not 
 have his usual strength ; for Red still stood erect. With- 
 out releasing his prey, he brandished his formidable club 
 in the hand still at liberty, and in his turn dealt Lynx 
 a blow on the head which stretched him lifeless with a 
 broken skull. 
 
 Deaf, seeing him on the ground, redoubled her yells 
 and buried her nails in the hunter’s flesh. The latter 
 did not seem to notice it; raising his club again, he 
 struck the unfortunate woman on the forehead, and she 
 fell bleeding and senseless at her husband’s side. 
 
 The two children remained, and vainly endeavored to 
 throw down the murderer, but they were by no means 
 formidable adversaries to this Hercules. By a mere 
 movement of the arm he hurled one to the right and 
 the other to the left against the walls of the cave, where 
 they lay, if not killed, at least stunned, by the violence 
 of the shock. 
 
 All this was accomplished in a few seconds, and, the 
 conflict being over, Red thought only of flying with his 
 prey. So he left the grotto without even looking behind 
 him, and turned toward the forest, carrying Deer as a 
 wolf carries a sheep. 
 
 But the young girl did not remain impassive. She 
 struggled convulsively against the strong arm that held 
 her, scratched and bit, uttering the most terrible shrieks ; 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 35 
 
 but the ravisher continued his way without fear or 
 remorse. The poor child’s despairing cries for aid were 
 heard an instant longer, then the majestic silence of the 
 Parisian solitudes again returned. 
 
 Several hours passed. A pale, dull sunlight illumi- 
 nated the country. Groans issued from the cave, whose 
 mouth remained open. They were uttered by Deaf, 
 who survived her frightful wound. The two little boys, 
 although terribly bruised, had risen. They seemed be- 
 wildered, stupefied, and, though they went to look at 
 their dead father and dying mother, were too stupid to 
 give the slightest assistance to the injured woman moan- 
 ing at their feet, or take any action whatever. Pressed 
 against each other, they dared not stir, expecting some 
 event whose nature they could not have clearly de- 
 scribed. This terror had still another cause. One of 
 the huge hyenas that made such terrible concerts at 
 night had been warned by its peculiar instinct of the 
 presence of a corpse, and, though this animal usually 
 ventures forth only after dark, had glided through the 
 thickets to the entrance of the grotto, where it paced 
 steadily to and fro. Its sense of smell told it that there 
 were living creatures with the dead, and its cowardice 
 prevented it from going farther. Yet, pressed by hun- 
 ger, it would not go away, and thus moved incessantly 
 to and fro before the cave. 
 
 Suddenly the brute stopped, as if it had heard a sound 
 which had not yet reached the ears of the besieged chil- 
 dren; then it re-entered the brushwood and vanished. 
 Whistler and Rat-Catcher were beginning to breathe 
 more freely, when the rustling of dry leaves and the 
 rolling of pebbles under the foot of a pedestrian were 
 
36 THE PR E-HI S T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 heard outside; a human figure appeared at some dis- 
 tance. 
 
 The children fancied that Red, after having killed theif 
 father, their mother, and perhaps their sister, was return- 
 ing to massacre them too. Overwhelmed with terror, 
 they rushed into the farthest recesses of the cave, where 
 they crouched in silence. 
 
 But they were mistaken ; it was not Red who ap- 
 proached the cave, but a tall youth of twenty, clad in 
 furs, with his head and feet bare. We will not say that 
 he was handsome according to our particular type of 
 beauty, but he would have afforded a proof of the fact 
 recognized by modern scientists,* that in those remote 
 ages two different races of men inhabited the banks of 
 the Seine. Fair-Hair — for it was Deer’s lover — was far 
 from presenting the physical characteristics of the race 
 now predominant in Europe. Thus, his head was still 
 somewhat elongated in form, although he belonged to 
 the brachycephalic f type (pardon the word), and his 
 nose was flat, his eyebrows were more prominent and 
 his lips thicker than those of the men of the present 
 day. But, to make amends, his eyes were bright and 
 clear, and his irregular features expressed craft and 
 good-humor, if not intelligence. His fair hair — to 
 which he owed his name — was long and silky, and his 
 complexion, though sun-burnt, fair as that of the Celtic 
 race from which we have descended. 
 
 His accoutrements consisted of a deer-skin pouch 
 suspended across his hips by a thong, and a flint axe 
 
 * Quaternary fauna of Paris, according to the most recent works of 
 MM. Lartet, D’Archiac, Gaudry, De Mortillet, etc. 
 
 j* Short-head. 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 37 
 
 thrust into his belt. He held in his hand a sort of spear, 
 whose point was made of the horn of a reindeer. 
 
 Perhaps these weapons were insufficient at a time when 
 a man could go only a few steps from his home without 
 being exposed to various perils, but Fair-Hair had a 
 lover’s boldness. Besides, he had not come a long dis- 
 tance ; his family lived on the other side of the hill of 
 Montmartre, in a cave like that occupied by Lynx. This 
 family consisted, besides the father and mother, of six 
 stalwart brothers and sisters, several of whom were al- 
 ready married. Fair-Hair had seen Deer while hunting 
 near the cave, fallen in love with her, and become en- 
 gaged with the consent of the parents. He intended to 
 take her away as soon as he had a cave to serve as a 
 home for the new household : the one occupied by his 
 own family could accommodate no more inhabitants. 
 Meantime, he often visited the young girl, always bring- 
 ing her as gifts carvings of bone or ivory, in whose exe- 
 cution he excelled, and which gave him the reputation 
 of an artist of the first rank among the human beings 
 scattered through the valley of the Seine. 
 
 This day also he was coming to offer the coquettish 
 young girl the products of his art, and walked with a 
 rapid step, a smile upon his lips. When he reached the 
 entrance of the cave he paused and cast an eager glance 
 within, but his eyes, dazzled by the broad light of day, 
 could distinguish nothing. Deaf, either from exhaustion 
 or because she was quite dead, had ceased to moan ; the 
 grotto seemed deserted. 
 
 “ Deer !” called the young man. 
 
 No one answered, but Fair-Hair heard a rustling in 
 the dry leaves forming the bed, and concluded that the 
 
 4 
 
38 
 
 *HE P RE- HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 habitation was not empty, as he had at first supposed. 
 Still smiling, he advanced a short distance, and felt some- 
 thing cold and wet under his bare feet He stooped, and 
 perceived that he had been walking through a pool of 
 blood. 
 
 But this circumstance gave no cause for alarm in a 
 hunter’s abode; so he continued loudly: 
 
 “ Deer is hiding ! Deer wants to laugh at me ! So 
 she sha’n’t have the pretty things I’ve brought.” 
 
 He drew from his deer-skin pouch bracelets of teeth, 
 pieces of ivory and horn, on which he had sketched in 
 his rude way figures of men and animals, then held them 
 aloft to arouse the envy of his fiancee , whom he sup- 
 posed to be lurking in the gloom. 
 
 Although Deer had not heard him, this time he re- 
 ceived an answer. Besides the poor old woman, who 
 began to moan again, children’s voices cried from the 
 recesses of the cave, 
 
 “ It’s Fair-Hair! it’s Fair-Hair!” 
 
 At the same moment Whistler and Rat-Catcher ran 
 toward the family friend. 
 
 Fair-Hair at first took no notice of them. He was be- 
 coming accustomed to the gloom, and beginning to dis- 
 tinguish certain objects. Bending toward Deaf, he saw 
 the terrible wound in the poor woman’s skull, at the 
 same time that he perceived the body of Lynx lying 
 a few paces off. 
 
 This scene of carnage did not move Fair-Hair as it 
 would have done a man of our times. The rude gene- 
 ration of those days, habituated to live in the midst of 
 dangers of every kind, full of savage instincts, were fa- 
 miliar with such sights. Yet the young savage’s face 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 39 
 
 expressed astonishment. Having once more examined 
 the dead man and the wounded wife, he asked the 
 children, 
 
 “ Who did this?” 
 
 “ Red,” replied the oldest. 
 
 “ Red, who lives on the Green Mountain ?” 
 
 “ Yes” 
 
 Fair-Hair tried to obtain some information from the 
 little boys, who, too terrified or too bewildered to an- 
 swer plainly, contented themselves with repeating inces- 
 santly, 
 
 “ It was Red, who lives on the Green Mountain.” 
 Suddenly a thought entered Fair-Hair’s mind. 
 
 “ And Deer ?” he asked. 
 
 “ Red has carried her off.” 
 
 “ Did he kill her too ?” 
 
 “ No, she fought, and she didn’t want to go.” 
 
 Fair-Hair uttered a furious exclamation, which proved 
 that if he were not a very affectionate friend to the parents 
 of his betrothed bride, he was at least an ardent and jeal- 
 ous lover. It now required no great effort of the imag- 
 ination to understand the horrible drama that had just 
 been enacted. Red, whose cruel ferocity was known 
 throughout the whole neighborhood, had tried to seize 
 the young girl, and, as the father and mother opposed 
 the abduction, killed them both. 
 
 Having gained this certainty, Fair-Hair thought only 
 of pursuing the ravisher. He was already walking to 
 ward the entrance of the cave, when the two children 
 clung to him. 
 
 “Take me,” said the older boy. 
 
 “And me too,” cried the other. 
 
40 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 However unknown to the young hunter the refine- 
 ments of humanity might be, he felt how terrible was 
 the orphans’ situation. The cave being open, wild 
 beasts, attracted by the odor of the corpse and the 
 blood, would not fail to enter it even in broad daylight 
 Besides, Deaf was still alive and needed help. So Deer’s 
 lover, notwithstanding his anxiety to get away, made a 
 few arrangements for the benefit of the unfortunate family. 
 
 His first care was to drag the body of Lynx into a 
 corner and cover it with leaves, until it could be buried 
 according to the rites then in use. Next he raised Deaf, 
 who redoubled her groans, and carried her to the com- 
 mon bed. To dress the wound he took a handful of 
 very fine moss, dipped it in water, and laid it on the in- 
 jured part. This was all his surgical knowledge allow- 
 ed him to do, and the patient really seemed relieved, for 
 her moans grew less audible. 
 
 He still had to provide for the two children, who must 
 remain alone for a time whose duration it was impossible 
 for him to fix. Fair-Hair filled at a neighboring pond a 
 skin vessel and several urus’ horns, intended to hold the 
 supply of water. Moreover, he ascertained that the cave 
 still contained a small stock of chestnuts, beechnuts, and 
 acorns, which would serve as food for the children, and, 
 if necessary, the mother also. The fire was out, and it 
 would have been too long a task to relight it by rub- 
 bing two pieces of dry wood together, according to the 
 method practised even in our times among certain savage 
 tribes. Fair-Hair did not think of doing so, but it was 
 important to bar the cave against the entrance of wild 
 beasts. 
 
 The young man, with his natural ingenuity, instantly 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 4 1 
 
 thought of a means of closing the entrance which would 
 be amply sufficient for the necessities of the moment. 
 The rock that usually served for a door was pushed 
 across the mouth of the cave, and as there was still an 
 empty space between the stone block and the roof, Fair- 
 Hair showed the children how to place, after he had 
 gone out, the wooden cross-pieces intended to complete 
 the barricade. Thanks to this arrangement, the air and 
 light could enter the cave, but the space between the bars 
 was not large enough to permit the passage of any dan- 
 gerous carnivorous animal. 
 
 These preparations being finished, he said to the chil- 
 dren, 
 
 “ I’m going to look for Deer ; if I meet Red, I’ll kill 
 him. You must not stir out until to-morrow. If you 
 do, the wild beasts will eat you. I’ll come back with 
 Deer or die.” 
 
 He explained to them that they would have occasion- 
 ally to dip in water the moss which covered their moth- 
 er’s wound, and prepared to depart. 
 
 As his spear might be in his way on the expedition 
 he was planning, he left it in the cave, and to supply 
 its place took possession of the dead Lynx’s bow and 
 arrows; and after ascertaining that the bow-string was 
 in good order and the points of the arrows sharp 
 enough, he strode over the rock at the entrance. 
 
 By his directions and with his aid, Rat-Catcher and 
 Whistler skilfully adjusted the wooden crossbars within. 
 Then Fair-Hair, convinced that he had done everything 
 for his friends’ safety which the circumstances required, 
 walked rapidly away. 
 
 The fate of the unfortunate children whom he was 
 
42 
 
 THE PRE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 leaving for an indefinite time in the dark, noisome cave 
 with their father’s corpse and their dying mother might 
 have caused him some anxiety, but the thought of his 
 beloved Deer completely absorbed his mind. Besides, 
 the little savages themselves did not seem to take their 
 situation very tragically. They remained quiet and 
 silent a few moments after the singular events which 
 had just occurred, but soon resumed their usual noisy 
 sports, without troubling themselves about the groans 
 Deaf uttered from time to time. The younger boy 
 began to nibble chestnuts and draw shrill sounds from 
 his bone whistle, while the older lad, no longer fearing 
 any control, played with his father’s spears. 
 
V. 
 
 VENGEANCE. 
 
 F AIR-HAIR, on leaving Lynx’s cave, walked very 
 rapidly, but ere long slackened his pace to exam- 
 ine the ground and direct his search in the most efficient 
 manner. 
 
 The trees, which were very numerous and very tall, 
 bounded the view in every direction. Like those of our 
 day, these trees were oaks, beeches, birches, and elms, 
 although perhaps several species now extinct might have 
 been discovered among them. From time to time glades 
 appeared in which grazed herds of herbivorous animals 
 — reindeer, horses, aurochs — which swarmed everywhere; 
 but there were no means of communication except the 
 roads, or rather paths, these wild beasts made through 
 the woods when they went to the water or changed their 
 pasturage-grounds, Nature being still untouched by the 
 labor of man. 
 
 Fair- Hair had scarcely left the vicinity of Montmartre 
 when he found in the virgin forest an avenue broad and 
 straight, though still encumbered here and there by 
 fallen trees. The soil was trodden down and trampled 
 as if chariots and horsemen had passed over it daily. 
 This was the path through which the mammoths went 
 night and morning to the river, and in their continual 
 
 43 
 
44 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 trips they had worn this wid? road, which was used by 
 the other animals in the neighborhood. Although these 
 colossal creatures were not dangerous to man, it would 
 not be prudent to be found in their avenue ; but at such 
 an hour Fair-Hair only ran the risk of meeting a few 
 isolated ones, and they doubtless would not think of 
 molesting him if he did not disturb them. So he boldly 
 entered the road, and the following are the reasons that 
 induced him to take this direction : 
 
 “ Red,” he thought, “ must have been in haste to reach 
 the river, and has doubtless chosen the mammoths' road, 
 which is the most direct and easy. Besides, he is carry- 
 ing poor Deer, who would not follow him willingly, and 
 he has not ventured into the thickets and bogs with 
 such a burden. Red is apparently ignorant that the 
 Seine has risen very much during the night, and he can 
 no longer cross it either by fording or on a log, as usual. 
 So he will be obliged to remain on this bank of the 
 river, and I cannot fail to meet him soon, in spite of 
 the start he has obtained.” 
 
 We dare not assert that these reflections presented 
 themselves with so much distinctness to the young 
 man’s mind, but they were very nearly his impres- 
 sions, and, full of the hope of success, he continued 
 his way. 
 
 Every instant neighs, growls, roars, strange sounds, 
 uttered by animals that for the greater part of the time 
 remained invisible, were heard from the forest. Some- 
 times, here and there herds of deer were seen amidst 
 the tall grass, but they did not show much fear at the 
 sight of a passer-by, for human beings were then too 
 few in number, and not sufficiently formidable, for ani 
 
VENGEANCE . 
 
 45 
 
 mals to recognize their power. It would have been 
 easy for Fair-Hair to send an arrow at some buck or 
 reindeer fawn, but he did not think of doing so, and 
 contented himself with picking some wild berries while 
 continuing to walk on with watchful eyes and weapons 
 ready for instant use. 
 
 He thus reached a spot where a brook crossed the 
 road, and according to the custom of hunters atten- 
 tively examined the marks impressed on the damp soil. 
 They consisted principally of the round, deep footprints 
 of mammoths, amid which appeared a few human foot- 
 steps. He had recognized the large flat foot of the 
 terrible Red, when he suddenly uttered an exclamation 
 of rage. Beside the first marks he had just discovered 
 others much smaller and lighter, though they bore no 
 resemblance to those of Atalanta — the footprints of his 
 beloved Deer. 
 
 “ So she’s walking ?” he muttered ; “ she is going 
 with him of her own free will ? I’ll kill them both !” 
 
 This discovery proved that Fair-Hair was really on 
 the track of the fugitives. So, after having made cer- 
 tain examinations which were to be useful to him after- 
 ward, he continued his way, and soon found himself at 
 the end of the avenue on the banks of the Seine. 
 
 We have already given an idea of the scene the river 
 presented ; at this moment, in particular, it had the ma- 
 jestic and imposing appearance of a real arm of the sea. 
 Swollen by some storm, it had overflowed its banks, sub- 
 merging the islands where Paris was to be built, and in- 
 undating its vast marshes. It would have been impos- 
 sible to cross it even if boats had existed. Its muddy 
 waves rose to a great height; its current seemed irre- 
 
46 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 sistible ; and the trees it swept away, with their roots 
 and branches, would have crushed any one who at- 
 tempted to cross it by swimming. Thus it was very 
 evident that Red had not reached the other shore with 
 his prisoner, and Fair-Hair’s eyes wandered eagerly over 
 the vast landscape outspread before him. 
 
 The fog common to the Parisian climate overspread 
 the country, while white clouds floated at intervals across 
 the sun. Several large mammals were gambolling in the 
 swampy plains that bordered the Seine. There were, in 
 the first place, three or four belated mammoths, which 
 had gone into the water up to their knees to drink or 
 bathe. They rose like living mountains above the sur- 
 face of the river, whose impetuous current was ruffled 
 by their movements. The male had formidable tusks 
 curved in a half circle, and while the young ones 
 amused themselves by hurling huge jets of water into 
 the air with their trunks, he raised his aloft, trumpeting 
 loudly. The rhinoceroses with chambered nostrils were 
 indulging in their usual gambols among the reeds. These 
 animals, whose bones have been found while digging the 
 canal of the Ourcq, were, as we have said, covered with 
 hair like the mammoths, but their skins did not form 
 folds like those of the African rhinoceros. Fierce and 
 stupid, they fought among themselves, hurling vast 
 quantities of mud into the air, and did not seem at 
 all disturbed by the neighborhood of the hippopotami, 
 who sometimes sported on the surface of the water. 
 
 And all this was not far from the place where now 
 stands the Pont-Neuf! 
 
 These scenes of antediluvian Nature possessed no in- 
 terest for Fair-Hair ; he was longing to catch a glimpse 
 
VENGEANCE . 
 
 47 
 
 of the hunter and his beloved Deer. But human beings 
 must have seemed, as it were, thrown into the shade by 
 the vast expanse of country, and formed only impercepti- 
 ble points on this stage peopled with colossal shapes. 
 
 By means of searching with his piercing eyes each 
 curve in the shore, he at last distinguished, in the di- 
 rection where the Hotel de Ville was to rise, two persons 
 who appeared to be going up the bank of the river. He 
 thought he recognized those whom he sought, and, to 
 convince himself of the fact, began to run with an agility 
 of which few men of our days would be capable, but which 
 was one of the necessities of savage life. The pedestrians 
 having no motives for going at the same rate of speed, he 
 gained rapidly upon them, and soon recognized Deer and 
 her conqueror. 
 
 Red seemed disconcerted by the freshet, which he had 
 not expected, and his gait showed extreme irresolution. 
 He moved with an uncertain step, and evidently did not 
 know what to do. 
 
 Deer, who was walking by his side, frequently turned 
 her head. Though the poor girl did not lack strength, 
 she seemed wearied by her long journey through woods 
 and marshes. Her feet and the edge of her tunic were 
 soiled with mire; her whole person expressed deep 
 despondency. Yet Fair-Hair was still wondering that 
 she did not attempt to make her escape, when he had 
 an explanation of this docility. 
 
 Red, despairing of finding any means to cross the 
 Seine, at last seemed to take a new resolution, and 
 with an imperious gesture pointed toward the forest. 
 
 Lynx’s daughter, either because she expected to be 
 seen and rescued amid the open plains, or feared to 
 
^8 
 
 THE P RE - HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 enter the woods in such company, showed some signs 
 of resistance ; instantly, Red, springing upon her, struck 
 her with unheard-of brutality with the handle of his club 
 
 This was not the first time the lover had employed 
 this method of making the object of his affection follow 
 him, and more than one bloody bruise might already 
 have been seen on the arms and shoulders of the 
 unfortunate Deer. 
 
 Respect for woman did not exist at that period, and 
 the dominion of the stronger over the weaker sex was 
 exercised without limit. Nevertheless, Fair-Hair, on- 
 seeing the girl he loved thus abused, could not restrain 
 himself, and uttered a cry of anger. 
 
 Scarcely had the exclamation, so different from the 
 sounds usually heard in these solitary wastes, echoed on 
 the air, than Fair-Hair perceived his imprudence. He 
 could succeed in his pursuit only by surprising his ad- 
 versary, for Red, well armed, of herculean strength, extra- 
 ordinary agility, and brutal courage, would not allow his 
 prey to be snatched from him so long as a breath of 
 life remained. It was only by surprise that it was pos- 
 sible to conquer him, and it was madness to put him on 
 his guard. 
 
 Fair-Hair recollected this in time. As soon as the 
 chivalric protest escaped his lips he threw himself face 
 downward in the tall grass and remained motionless. 
 
 He had been heard. Red stopped beating the poor 
 woman, and looked around him. Deer herself seemed 
 to forget her sufferings ; she had turned again with a 
 sudden start. Perhaps she had recognized her lover’s 
 voice, perhaps the hope of deliverance again awoke. 
 However this might be, Fair-Hair, distrusting the sav- 
 
VENGEANCE. 
 
 49 
 
 aye’s piercing gaze, and knowing that the slightest sign, 
 the slightest movement, was liable to betray him, re- 
 mained cowering among the reeds, without daring to 
 raise his head. It was only after a long time that he 
 cautiously lifted it. As the shout was not repeated, 
 Red and Deer had doubtless finally believed that it did 
 not issue from human lips, and continued their walk 
 toward the forest, where they soon disappeared. 
 
 Fair-Hair then left his hiding-place and continued his 
 rapid walk, crouching under the brushwood. He thus 
 reached the part of the forest where Red and Deer had 
 just entered; but here he encountered a new difficulty. 
 The thicket was intersected in every direction by the 
 narrow paths made by the wild beasts in going to the 
 river. Which of these paths had the hunter and his 
 companion chosen ? The earth, either too dry or too 
 wet, retained no footprints. Besides, there was no time 
 to patiently follow a trail. If Fair-Hair had known how 
 to swear, he would have made the woods echo with his 
 oaths ; as it was, he began to wander about, growling and 
 beating his breast with rage. 
 
 We will leave him to his wrath and anxiety, to rejoin 
 Deer and her companion. 
 
 Lynx’s daughter, as we have said, did not yield with- 
 out resistance to the orders of her parent’s assassin ; but, 
 conquered by violence, she had seemed to resign herself 
 to her fate. During the journey, as may be supposed, 
 the conversation had not been very animated ; in those 
 days action took the place of words and thoughts. The 
 poor creature walked silently by the side of Red, who 
 watched her craftily, with an expression of as much an- 
 ger and hatred as love. 
 
 5 
 
 D 
 
50 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 Deer could not expect to be rescued unless her lover 
 should interfere in her behalf. There was no protecting 
 authority. A small number of families lived scattered 
 * over vast extents of country, and each of them depended 
 entirely upon the father. The oppressed had no means 
 of defence against the oppressor; although there must 
 have been certain notions of justice, religion, and moral- 
 ity, they were so vague that they could not be a serious 
 check upon the gross instincts and fierce passions of this 
 ignorant race. 
 
 Deer understood that even if they encountered by 
 accident some other hunter from the neighborhood, he 
 would not dare to try to rescue her. We know what 
 hope she had felt when in the cry uttered behind her she 
 fancied that she had recognized her lover’s voice. Un- 
 fortunately, this hope had been but a flash of lightning, 
 and when the poor girl re-entered the forest large tears 
 filled her eyes. 
 
 The persecutor troubled himself very little about her 
 tears, perhaps did not notice them. But as they plunged 
 farther and farther into the woods his attitude toward 
 the prisoner changed, and his glance visibly softened. 
 Soon something like a smile appeared on his hideous 
 face, and once he put his huge hand on Deer’s shoulder, 
 uttering a sort of joyous growl, which would have re- 
 minded one of a bear. 
 
 Deer seemed more alarmed by his good-humor than 
 by the anger he had just shown. She kept as far away 
 as possible, and as he still drew nearer, repeating his omi- 
 nous growl, she tried to change the course of his ideas. 
 
 “ I’m hungry,” she said abruptly ; “ is Red so bad 
 a hunter that he can give me nothing to eat?” 
 
VENGEANCE . 
 
 51 
 
 The young girl had really been inspired, and Red 
 seemed touched by such a reproach. Besides, perhaps 
 the remark reminded him that he had eaten nothing 
 himself since the night before, that it was almost noon, 
 and his ogreish hunger was gnawing at his stomach. He 
 started, and said in his guttural voice, “ Deer shall eat.” 
 
 Just at that moment they entered a glade where herds 
 of deer had cropped the turf. Nothing was visible on 
 the shorn and trampled grass except a young horse with 
 a small body and immense head, a species then very 
 numerous. The primitive man did not yet think of rid- 
 ing, but the horse was excellent game and formed his 
 principal article of food.* The young animal of which 
 we are speaking, although less than twenty paces dis- 
 tant from the pedestrians, was not disturbed by their 
 presence, and while browsing on the foliage of a shrub 
 watched them with its gentle but inquisitive eyes. Red 
 seized his bow, and with inconceivable quickness dis- 
 charged an arrow that passed through its throat. The 
 poor creature neighed loudly with pain and turned to 
 fly, but, its strength failing, fell upon its knees. Quick 
 as thought, Red sprang forward and put an end to its 
 suffering by breaking its skull. 
 
 Then the hunter turned triumphantly toward his com- 
 panion, who thought it advisable to reward him for his 
 skill by an approving nod. 
 
 The game being secured, it was only necessary to 
 prepare it. Now, it will be remembered that fire was 
 obtained by a slow and difficult process, which consisted 
 of rubbing two pieces of dry wood against each other ; 
 and although the Parisians of the ancient world usually 
 * Lartet and Christy. 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLlNOi! 
 
52 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 ate meat broiled, they were not so fastidious when hunt- 
 ing ; they then managed very well with raw meat. So 
 Red never thought of lighting a fire. He signed to Deer 
 to sit down, and hastened to cut up the horse, whose 
 smoking flesh still quivered. 
 
 He dexterously removed the bones containing the 
 marrow, cracked them lengthwise by means of his axe, 
 and gallantly offered them to Deer. For himself he cut 
 from the animal’s fillet a huge piece, which he tore to 
 pieces with his teeth and nails, and then devoured with 
 his usual gluttony, not seeming to nKice the absence 
 of seasoning. 
 
 We should like to be able to say that Fair-Hair’s 
 betrothed bride showed some tokens of horror or dis- 
 gust at this cannibal repast, but truth compels us to 
 confess that custom on the one hand and hunger on the 
 other prevented her from manifesting the slightest re- 
 pugnance. Forgetting her annoyances, her fatigue, her 
 terrible anxiety, she began to suck the marrow from the 
 bones with all the satisfaction of a pretty glutton of our 
 own day eating cakes at a confectioner’s in the Boule- 
 vard Italien. 
 
 The wide glade was surrounded by tall trees, and 
 while beneath their shade a partial obscurity reigned, 
 the two companions were in the broad daylight in the 
 centre of the open space. Red had chosen this place 
 to prevent any surprise — not that he remembered the 
 alarm caused by the cry Fair-Hair had uttered a few 
 moments before, but it behooved him to be on his guard, 
 for they were continually surrounded by danger. 
 
 Nevertheless, Deer, now that the first wants of hunger 
 were appeased, relapsed into her sorrowful thoughts. 
 
VENGEANCE. 
 
 53 
 
 She stopped eating, and refused even the horse's brain, 
 which the hunter pointed out as a dainty worthy of her. 
 Red, while swallowing the bleeding flesh, continued to 
 watch his companion. 
 
 His eyes sparkled with pleasure under their lashes, 
 and it was doubtful whether this satisfaction was caused 
 by the present good cheer or the thought of having in 
 his power a creature who seemed to him so beautiful. 
 
 Deer noticed these things, but hoped that her perse- 
 cutor, by dint of gorging himself with meat, would at 
 last fall into the state of torpor and stupefaction that 
 usually accompanied his digestion. This hope soon 
 vanished. Red stopped devouring the raw flesh, and 
 contented himself with nibbling, by way of dessert, what 
 the young girl had rejected. But his ardent glances did 
 not cease ; he still uttered his gleeful growl, and several 
 times stretched out his hand to give her a friendly pat. 
 
 Deer drew herself as far as possible out of the reach 
 of these rude caresses, and listened for the sound of 
 some deliverer approaching amid the silence of the 
 woods. Nothing stirred except a wolf, which scented 
 the feast and was waiting among the bushes for the 
 opportunity to get his share. 
 
 Red noticed the young girl’s agitation, and his mirth 
 increased. Still chewing, laughing, and muttering, he 
 tried to reach her with his huge black hand. At last 
 Deer lost patience, and pushing it away said in a tone 
 of horror, 
 
 “ Red killed Deaf and Lynx." 
 
 This reproach did not seem to be at all understood by 
 the savage. On the contrary, he thought it a compli- 
 ment, for he answered, laughing, 
 
54 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 “ Red was the strongest.” 
 
 What answer could be made to this logic ? Yet poor 
 Deer appealed to all the religion and morality she knew 
 to try to soften the hunter. 
 
 “ When the strong have been wicked during their 
 lives,” she said, “ the Great Spirit punishes them after 
 death.” 
 
 This thought was too lofty for Red’s intelligence. 
 Yet he had listened attentively, and seemed trying to 
 understand. At the end of a moment he burst into an- 
 other shout of laughter, and replied, 
 
 “ Red is alive.” 
 
 The unfortunate girl, whose arguments were ex- 
 hausted, was silent. Red ceased to eat. His laughter 
 and mutterings became louder and more continuous. 
 Suddenly he stretched out both hands to seize Deer, 
 who by a sudden movement escaped, and fled toward 
 the thicket with the lightness of the animal whose name 
 she bore. 
 
 But if she was agile, the hunter was no less so. He 
 nimbly rose in his turn, picked up his club, and pursued 
 her, grumbling loudly, not with love, but fury. 
 
 Thanks to his impetuous bounds, he soon overtook 
 her and brandished his formidable weapon to strike. 
 Deer uttered a cry of agony, which was answered from 
 the depths of the forest by the voice she had already 
 heard. At the same moment an arrow, discharged by 
 an invisible hand, grazed her face and pierced the hunt- 
 er’s throat, as Red’s arrow had cut the horse’s a few 
 instants before. 
 
 Streams of blood deluged the bear-skin tunic worn by 
 Deer’s persecutor, but so great was the vigor of this race 
 
VENGEANCE . 
 
 ss 
 
 that he remained standing, and, though he could neither 
 cry out nor walk, angrily tried to draw out the arrow that 
 had wounded him. As he could not succeed, he wished 
 at least to avenge himself, and convulsively shook his 
 club. Deer, who had paused to see whence this unex- 
 pected help came, was in danger of being killed, when 
 another arrow whizzed by and buried itself in the hun- 
 ter’s breast. 
 
 This time Red’s limbs bent; he turned, then sank 
 upon the ground, which he tore with his nails and bit, 
 uttering inarticulate sounds. 
 
 At the same instant a man emerged from the under- 
 brush and appeared on the edge of the forest. Bow in 
 hand, he stood ready to discharge a third arrow in case 
 of necessity. This youth, though he bore no resemblance 
 to the Pythian Apollo, seemed to Deer handsomer than 
 the god “ of the silver bow.” 
 
 “ Fair-Hair!” she cried in delight. 
 
 Fair-Hair, for it was he, at first remained motionless, 
 with his eyes fixed upon his enemy. As there was noth- 
 ing more to be feared from that quarter, he lowered his 
 bow and sprang toward his betrothed bride, crying in an 
 ecstasy of joy, 
 
 “ Deer!” 
 
 And they fell into each other’s arms. There were no 
 long speeches between them, but the young girl’s eyes 
 expressed the most ardent gratitude, while the youth’s 
 sparkled with pride and the joy of success. 
 
 They soon approached the wounded man, who was 
 writhing on the ground in the convulsions of agony. 
 Fair-Hair wanted to regain his arrows, and at the same 
 time seize the necklaces and weapons of the conquered 
 
5 6 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 man, the slightest products of human industry possess- 
 ing infinite value in those days. 
 
 He leaned over the dying man and pulled out his 
 arrows, without troubling himself any more about his 
 sufferings than an Indian of the present time heeds the 
 torture of the man he scalps. Although superior to his 
 enemy in certain respects, he felt no scruple about treat- 
 ing Red in the same way that Red, under similar cir- 
 cumstances, would have treated him. 
 
 The unfortunate hunter could not speak, but, stretched 
 on his back with clenched fists, still retained his con- 
 sciousness. Certain Russians of the Mongolian race, 
 surviving in our wars terrible wounds which would have 
 instantly killed a European, might even at the present 
 time furnish instances of similar vitality. 
 
 Deer, however, had the courage to look at the assassin 
 of her family, and, yielding to a feeling of indignation, 
 struck him in the face with her bare foot. Red tried 
 to bite it, but failed. 
 
 Fair-Hair, who had just taken possession of the 
 wounded man’s equipments, seemed amused by this 
 mutual hatred. Nevertheless, he put his arm around 
 Deer’s waist and tried to draw her away. 
 
 The revengeful girl resisted. “ Red is still alive,” she 
 said. 
 
 “ Pshaw !” replied Fair-Hair quietly, “ the wolves will 
 finish him.” 
 
 And he led her gently toward the spot where lay the 
 remnants of the horse. The lover remembered that he 
 too was famishing, and had every right to the vanquished 
 hunter’s game. 
 
 They sat down, and the meal began again. But how 
 
VENGEANCE. 
 
 57 
 
 little it resembled the first one ! The young people's 
 delight seemed equal. Deer did not eat, but enjoyed 
 watching her companion, who, however, did not show 
 the hideous gluttony of the other hunter. They talked 
 little, as usual, but to make amends looked at each other 
 incessantly, laughed, and played all sorts of merry pranks. 
 After the repast was over Fair-Hair offered his betrothed 
 bride the necklaces and bracelets he had made for her, 
 and the coquette hastened to adorn herself with them. 
 Absorbed in the joy of seeing each other again after 
 having endured trials so severe, they did not trouble 
 themselves about the miserable Red, who was gasping 
 a few paces away, and whose eyes, already glazed by 
 approaching death, rested upon them with an expres- 
 sion of jealousy and powerless rage. 
 
 The hours slipped away unnoticed by the lovers ; 
 Fair-Hair and Deer did not think how time was passing. 
 The sun was about to set ; to be overtaken by the dark- 
 ness in these woods, which swarmed with so many for- 
 midable animals, was, they were aware, to expose them- 
 selves to a terrible death. 
 
 Fortunately, Fair-Hair perceived the danger. He 
 suddenly rose. “ Let us go,” said he. 
 
 He took his weapons, and loaded Deer with Red’s 
 arms. Lynx’s daughter, however, was perfectly capa- 
 ble of performing the task of carrying them. As they 
 were preparing to set out, she asked, “ Where is Fair- 
 Hair going to take me ?” 
 
 The young hunter seemed to be reflecting. 
 
 “ Lynx has been killed,” he said at last, “ and his 
 cave no longer has a master. I’ll go there with Deer; 
 I will be the head of the family. I will carry Lynx to 
 
58 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 the cave of the dead ; then I’ll support the women and 
 children by hunting.” 
 
 “ Very well,” replied Deer. 
 
 And they began to walk toward home. 
 
 When, on their way to the edge of the woods, they 
 passed Red, the dying man made visible efforts to speak, 
 and waved his arms. His dilated eyes seemed to im- 
 plore the young couple not to leave him helpless and un- 
 armed in this solitude. Deer could not restrain an emo- 
 tion of pity, and wanted to stop, but Fair-Hair shrugged 
 his shoulders and forced her to continue her way. 
 
 The wounded man had been right in fearing their 
 departure. Scarcely had the two lovers left the glade 
 when it was invaded by an immense number of gray, 
 tawny, speckled animals, which, concealed in the neigh- 
 boring thickets, had been awaiting this moment. They 
 rushed forward open-mouthed, uttering greedy howls. 
 Some dashed toward the horse, whose bloody fragments 
 they eagerly seized, while others fell upon Red, covering 
 him completely. 
 
 Deer and her companion heard behind them the 
 cracking of bones, fierce cries, the sound of an obsti- 
 nate struggle between the foul animals fighting over 
 their prey, but took no heed, and walked rapidly away. 
 Then, as the impressions of these savages were very 
 transient, they were soon laughing with the utmost 
 gayety. 
 
VI. 
 
 SCENES OF THE PRIMITIVE WORLD. 
 
 D EER and Fair-Hair, absorbed in the pleasure of 
 being in each other’s society again, had really lin- 
 gered too long. It was quite dark under the shadow 
 of the trees, and the paths traced by the herbivorous 
 animals without any fixed direction might easily be mis- 
 taken. It thus seemed doubtful whether the hunter and 
 young girl could succeed in reaching the cave of Mont- 
 martre before nightfall. The beasts of prey, almost in- 
 offensive when the sun was above the horizon, were 
 assembling as usual to go in quest of food. Already 
 they were calling each other by ominous howls in every 
 direction, and the terrible concert would last until the 
 following morning. Yet between the Seine and Mont- 
 martre there was not a single habitation, not a refuge : 
 everywhere stretched the swamps and the virgin forest. 
 
 The young hunter did not forget these alarming 
 truths, and, after wandering several minutes through 
 the tangled paths that constantly turned back, paused 
 to examine the surroundings. At last, extending his 
 arm toward the setting sun, he suddenly exclaimed, 
 
 “ Quick ! the mammoths’ road !” 
 
 He hastily took the direction indicated, and Deer fol- 
 
 59 
 
6o 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 lowed, notwithstanding the roughness of the way. At 
 last she said timidly, 
 
 “ It’s late. The mammoths are in motion ; they’ll 
 crush us.” 
 
 “ Quick ! quick !” replied Fair-Hair laconically. 
 
 They reached the long avenue the antediluvian ele- 
 phants had made in the forest, and which extended 
 almost all the way from the river to Montmartre ; but, 
 as Deer had foreseen, it was no longer deserted as in 
 the morning. The mammoths were going in groups 
 to the water, and while moving snatched a tuft of grass 
 with their trunks or absently broke off a large bough. 
 Thanks to the luminous strip of sky above the double 
 row of trees, these enormous animals were seen care- 
 lessly advancing toward the Seine, and ever and anon 
 one, in the exuberance of his good-humor, uttered the 
 resonant sounds that echoed through the vast forests 
 like the notes of a trumpet. 
 
 As we have said, Fair-Hair and his companion had 
 only this way of reaching the cave speedily, and they 
 advanced, gliding along the sides of the avenue. Yet 
 they had nothing to fear except being inadvertently 
 trampled under foot. The peaceful monsters, covered 
 with their long black hair, trusting in their irresistible 
 strength, did not appear to notice the human beings 
 passing them, or, if they perceived them, did not con- 
 descend to attack the frail pigmies they could have an- 
 nihilated with a breath. 
 
 The audacity of the two young people therefore 
 seemed destined to remain unpunished, and they had 
 performed part of the journey unmolested when they 
 became witnesses of one of those majestic scenes so 
 
SCENES OF THE PRIMITIVE WORLD. 6 1 
 
 frequent in the primitive world, but of which nothing 
 in our day can afford any idea. 
 
 Fair-Hair and his companion had reached the place 
 which so many centuries after was to be the Boulevard 
 Montmartre. On their left extended the . swamps of the 
 future Grange Bateliere. As they were crossing this 
 vast open space to regain the elephants' avenue, which 
 continued for some distance on the other side, they sud- 
 denly heard before them a terrible uproar which con- 
 stantly increased. 
 
 One would have said that it was a tempest suddenly 
 unchained. The darkness did not allow the cause to 
 be seen, but the earth trembled as if under the gallop 
 of ten thousand horses. The dust and leaves formed a 
 cloud whence issued strange, thundering sounds. There 
 was no living creature that would not have been seized 
 with terror at the approach of this tumult, whose source 
 was still unknown. 
 
 Deer and Fair-Hair, though their nerves were not 
 easily shaken, had paused in terror on the side of the 
 road, and were gazing in the direction whence the dan- 
 ger might come. The mammoths, just now grazing so 
 quietly, had faced about and pricked up their huge 
 ears. But they were doubtless not ignorant of the 
 cause of this alarm, for they answered with shrill 
 screams the screams that now reached them, and which 
 must have been a call ; then, turning back, set out at 
 full speed with their trunks in the air. 
 
 Deer and Fair-Hair anxiously tried to discover from 
 what this terrible fright proceeded. The mammoths, 
 chreatened by some sudden danger, had assembled in 
 an immense herd, and were rushing forward, rallying by 
 6 
 
62 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 their cries all the animals of their species. They soon 
 poured out of the avenue, leaping on each other in their 
 frantic course, stumbling, covered with dust, slime, and 
 the branches of trees, noisily clashing their long tusks, 
 but advancing with the speed of the hurricane. 
 
 The enemy that produced this panic among the colos- 
 sal animals was not slow in revealing itself. Above the 
 tumult caused by the flying mammoths was heard a 
 horrible roar that might be compared to the rolling of 
 thunder. When this terrible sound was heard every- 
 thing else relapsed into silence ; it seemed as if the king 
 — or rather tyrant — of creation at that remote period had 
 just raised his sovereign voice. 
 
 Fair-Hair and Deer remained motionless with terror. 
 The youth seized his companion’s hand. 
 
 “ The lion !” said he. 
 
 “The lion!” repeated Deer in dismay. 
 
 And both rushed toward the marsh to get out of the 
 way of the elephants. 
 
 The marsh offered no shelter ; only at some distance 
 from the avenue appeared an isolated rock, brought 
 there by some cataclysm, and which rose about ten 
 feet above the plain. The two poor fugitives ran in 
 that direction, and fortunately were marvellously swift- 
 footed, for the living hurricane was already bursting 
 upon them. At last they reached the rock, and, pant- 
 ing for breath, bathed in perspiration, trembling with 
 terror, succeeded in climbing upon its summit. 
 
 But w r as this a safe asylum ? They soon perceived 
 that they could not have chosen their place of refuge 
 more unfortunately. 
 
 The mammoths, instead of continuing their way along 
 
SCENES OF THE PRIMITIVE WORLD. 63 
 
 the avenue which led to the river, rushed impetuously 
 into the marshes. Pursued through the forest by their 
 formidable enemy, they could not move freely and pre- 
 pare for mutual defence, as their congeners, the African 
 elephants, now do when attacked by a lion. But the 
 open space on their path offering them a sort of tilt- 
 yard, they vied with each other in rushing into it to 
 accept the battle. 
 
 In an instant the plain was covered ; bushes and reeds 
 disappeared under their huge feet. They moved anx- 
 iously about, looking frequently in the same direction. 
 Numerous as they already were, new-comers still ar- 
 rived, and the last, more and more excited by the lion’s 
 roars, ran with a lightness of which one would not have 
 believed such masses of flesh capable. 
 
 Besides, this apparent confusion did not last long. 
 The mammoths, obeying a plan that seemed to have 
 been arranged beforehand, formed into a compact, reg- 
 ular troop. The females and young ones were placed 
 in the centre ; on the outside stood the old males, who 
 expected to bear the principal shock and held their 
 huge trunks in readiness. Soon, all, with bristling 
 manes, trunks in the air, eyes and ears on the watch, 
 stood motionless, and their order of battle was such 
 that the nearest was only twenty paces from the rock 
 where Deer and Fair-Hair had taken refuge. 
 
 Silence ensued. The mammoths, doubtless reassured 
 by the strong position they had just assumed, and which 
 enabled them to give each other mutual aid, no longer 
 uttered the trumpet-like sounds that expressed their fear 
 or anger. They were ready for resistance and awaited 
 the enemy. 
 
64 
 
 THE PR E- HIS T ORIC WORLD • 
 
 This enemy at last appeared. The two lovers in the 
 dim twilight saw it spring with mighty bounds into the 
 open space ; and certainly a single glance was sufficient 
 to understand the terror it inspired. 
 
 The cave-lion * was, as we have said, three or four 
 times larger than the largest African lion. According 
 to the bones often found in the earth, it was about four- 
 teen feet long, and united the characteristics of the lion 
 and tiger. Its color was a reddish-gray, striped with 
 brown; its long tail was ringed with black and fawn- 
 color. The throat and under part of the body were 
 snow-white.f This huge animal, whose teeth were five 
 inches long, and whose paws were armed with retractile 
 nails six and a half inches long, paused a moment on 
 the edge of the forest to examine the mammoths’ posi- 
 tion ; its round eyes glowed in the darkness like balls 
 of fire. Motionless, with open jaws, it stood, waving its 
 sinewy tail as if ready to spring. 
 
 The African lion never ventures to attack a herd of 
 elephants when they have had time to put themselves on 
 their guard, as the Parisian mammoths were now. But 
 the cave-lion did not seem willing to draw back, and 
 again uttered its terrible roar in token of defiance. 
 
 The mammoths, on their part, answered by the trum- 
 pet-like sounds of which we have spoken, as if to an- 
 nounce that they accepted the combat ; but the intelli- 
 gent animals took care to make no change in their 
 order of battle, and continued to form a solid mass, 
 presenting in every direction menacing tusks and 
 trunks. 
 
 Seeing that its demonstration had not produced the 
 
 * Felis speloea . f Boitard. 
 
SCENES OF THE PRIMITIVE WORLD. 65 
 
 expected effect, the lion was seized with fury. Its roars 
 and the waving of its tail did not cease, its eyes con- 
 tinued to blaze. At last it began to creep along, circling 
 around the watchful mammoths as if seeking a weak 
 point in their battalion. 
 
 Now, while thus prowling, roaring, tearing the earth 
 with its claws and throwing it into the air, Fair-Hair 
 and his companion noticed that it was approaching 
 nearer and nearer to them, and already almost touched 
 the low rock they had climbed. 
 
 Imagine their terror! True, the lion, engaged in a 
 stupendous conflict with adversaries worthy of it, doubt- 
 less would not condescend to notice the presence of two 
 poor human creatures ; but was it not to be feared that 
 it might leap on the rock, and then what would become 
 of the unfortunate lovers ? Brushed aside by a single 
 movement of its huge paw, they would be in a few in- 
 stants mere shapeless masses cast out on the plain for 
 the wolves and hyenas of the forest. 
 
 It might be supposed, in fact, that the fierce animal 
 intended to take up its position on the rock, for it turned 
 its glowing eyeballs in that direction. If Deer had been 
 a woman of our day, she would not have failed to faint, 
 and thus complicate a situation already so critical ; but 
 she contented herself with clinging convulsively to her 
 companion, and the latter, although habituated for a long 
 period to all kinds of dangers, was on the point of spring- 
 ing with her to the bottom of the rock to avoid an en- 
 counter that seemed inevitable. 
 
 Fortunately, there was no occasion to resort to this 
 extreme measure. The lion stopped looking toward 
 them, and at last decided to make the attack. It 
 6 * E 
 
66 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 uttered another roar, bounded thirty or forty feet, and, 
 clearing one of the huge males that formed the outer 
 row, seized a young mammoth, whose tender, delicate 
 * flesh seemed to deserve its preference. 
 
 Then the tumult became frightful. The line of battle 
 was broken, and each mammoth rushed to the assistance 
 of the wounded one. A hundred trunks fell upon the lion, 
 which was clinging to its victim's back and devouring it 
 alive. A horrible conflict took place. All these colos- 
 sal animals were crowding against each other, crushing 
 and struggling to deal a blow at the common enemy. 
 There was no longer anything but a mountain of flesh 
 — a moving, changing mountain, whence issued abrupt 
 sounds, the noise of tusks striking against each other 
 and shattering — sounds that suggested the trumpets of 
 the last judgment. 
 
 It was difficult to foresee what would be the result of 
 this conflict of monsters. A dense smoke rose from the 
 huge heated bodies ; stones, dry leaves, tufts of hair flew 
 through the air. Neither lion nor mammoths could be 
 distinguished, but, as we have said, a moving, roaring 
 mass, whose every change made the earth tremble. 
 
 Deer, in terror, covered her eyes, pressing closer to 
 her lover. Fair-Hair alone coolly estimated the extent 
 of the peril. The combat was taking place only a few 
 paces from them. They might be crushed by the 
 ^slightest shock, without even having time to utter a 
 ciy. Once they felt the rock that served them as a 
 refuge violently shaken, and almost lost their balance ; 
 a mammoth had grazed it with his huge foot in passing. 
 Yet Fair-Hair understood that there was more chance 
 of safety by remaining where they were than to risk 
 
SCENES OF THE PRIMITIVE WORLD . 67 
 
 being crushed on the plain when these formidable ani- 
 mals separated. 
 
 Although 'the conflict had not lasted more than two 
 or three minutes, the young people were beginning to 
 find the time very long, when suddenly something like 
 the roc in the Arabian Nights flew over their heads and 
 alighted noiselessly behind them. At first they did not 
 know what it could be, but soon recognized the lion, 
 which, vanquished, gave up the conflict and was regain- 
 ing the forest, making tremendous bounds. 
 
 The formidable feline, as if ashamed of its defeat, no 
 longer roared. On the other hand, the mammoths cele- 
 brated their victory by trumpeting noisily, and several 
 huge males, either through bravado or revenge, set out 
 in pursuit of the fugitive. 
 
 The others began to disperse. The attention of Deer 
 and Fair-Hair was particularly fixed upon the young 
 mammoth which had been attacked by the lion. In 
 spite of the promptness of the rescue, the poor animal 
 was cruelly lacerated; the earth over which it moved 
 was drenched with blood. It tottered as it walked, and 
 several of its protectors seemed to be caressing it with 
 their trunks. The touching solicitude manifested by a 
 female was particularly noticeable; she was doubtless 
 a tender mother, though tall enough to reach to the 
 second story of a house. She supported and guided it, 
 and the whole family moved slowly toward the avenue, 
 where they soon disappeared. 
 
VII. 
 
 A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 
 
 N IGHT had closed in ; the marsh which had served 
 for the battle-field was becoming again deserted. 
 The few mammoths moving here and there like dark 
 masses were scarcely visible ; the trumpeting and roars 
 had ceased. But as the large animals grew silent, the 
 smaller ones once more commenced their noise. Hy- 
 enas and wolves, collected in troops, uttered their 
 mournful howls and advanced toward the swamp, 
 doubtless in the hope of devouring some victim of 
 the battle. 
 
 It now seemed impossible for Deer and Fair-Hair 
 to reach the cave of Montmartre that night. There 
 was more than a quarter of a league to be traversed 
 through the thickets in total darkness, and all the 
 savage denizens of the woods were issuing from their 
 lairs. Yet the danger of remaining on the isolated 
 rock, where they were exposed to attacks of every 
 kind, was no less great. Fair-Hair therefore warned 
 his companion that it was time to continue their way, 
 and they advanced toward Montmartre. 
 
 When they entered the shadow of the trees they 
 moved with the utmost caution. The howls increased, 
 68 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 
 
 69 
 
 and now seemed so near that the animals must be only 
 a few paces away. Before, behind, among the bushes, 
 in the tall grass, fiery eyes glowed like so many will-o’- 
 the-wisps. Sometimes some of these nocturnal beasts 
 stopped in the lovers’ path, and seemed about to dis- 
 pute their way, but when they approached sprang 
 quickly aside and joined the constantly-increasing 
 troop. 
 
 At the end of a few instants this troop was so nume- 
 rous, so noisy, that Deer, in spite of her familiarity with 
 such encounters, in spite of the confidence her lover’s 
 presence must have inspired, showed fresh signs of 
 terror. While walking on she constantly shook the 
 flint axe taken from Red. But these useless demon- 
 strations only served to render the pack more eager, 
 more furious, in the pursuit. 
 
 The hunter only laughed at his companion’s fright. 
 When the hyenas and wolves pressed upon them too 
 closely, he contented himself with turning and uttering 
 a sharp cry that put the cowardly animals to flight. 
 Nevertheless, he was not ignorant that certain casual- 
 ties might suddenly change the face of affairs; so he 
 said to Deer, 
 
 “ There’s nothing to fear so long as we keep on our 
 feet. But we mustn’t fall ” 
 
 In fact, the slightest fall would be fatal, and yet 
 nothing was easier than to stumble. The mammoths’ 
 avenue, encumbered with branches and tree-trunks in 
 consequence of the recent panic, was constantly grow- 
 ing narrower and made numerous turns. Every in- 
 stant the lovers were stopped by obstacles over which 
 they were obliged to climb, in spite of the eager oppo • 
 
70 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 sition of the noisy pack at their heels, whose boldness 
 became greater and greater, and the young couple were 
 hemmed in on all sides. They could not see the ani- 
 mals that harassed them, but their glittering eyes and 
 loud howls betrayed the large number of their enemies. 
 They seemed to look upon them as their certain prey, 
 and were evidently only waiting for a favorable oppor- 
 tunity to attack — an opportunity that could not fail to 
 occur. 
 
 Fair-Hair resolved to make some demonstrations to 
 render the wild beasts more cautious. A wolf, having 
 approached too near, received a violent blow with the 
 club that hurled him almost lifeless among the pack ; 
 then seizing his bow, the hunter shot an arrow hap- 
 hazard into the moving crowd a few paces from him. 
 The arrow doubtless struck, for plaintive cries instantly 
 arose. But the lesson produced no important result; 
 the lovers having continued their way, the pack fol- 
 lowed, no less numerous, no less noisy, than before. 
 
 They were still in the utmost danger, and Fair-Flair 
 was trying to think of some stratagem to escape the 
 fierce animals, when a marvellous change occurred. 
 The howls ceased, the beasts dispersed as if seized 
 with a sudden fear. Nothing was audible in this por- 
 tion of the forest except the rustling of the leaves and 
 bushes through which the fugitives were dashing. The 
 lovers found themselves entirely at liberty. 
 
 Deer was already rejoicing in this inexplicable cir- 
 cumstance, but Fair-Hair, far less reassured, looked 
 around him to discover the cause. A sort of loud 
 sniffing, repeated at regular intervals, fell upon h ; s ear, 
 and he perceived in the gloom, scarcely thirty paces 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WO OHS. 
 
 71 
 
 away, two glowing eyes which, judging from their 
 huge dimensions, could not be those of a hyena or 
 wolf. 
 
 The young hunter now knew why the beasts of prey 
 had beat a retreat so hastily. 
 
 “ The great bear of the caves !” he said in a low tone 
 to his companion. 
 
 What was to be done with this new enemy, against 
 which the weapons of those days were almost power- 
 less ? Fair-Hair was not slow in forming his resolution. 
 Seeing above his head a large branch that seemed to 
 belong to an ancient tree, he raised Deer in his arms 
 as high as possible, murmuring, 
 
 “ Quick ! quick ! ,? 
 
 Deer, who, as we have often said, was no fine lady, 
 swung herself nimbly on the bough. Scarcely had she 
 reached it when Fair-Hair, springing upward with in- 
 credible agility, seized the branch in his turn, raised 
 himself by the strength of his wrists, and was soon 
 beside his companion, eight or ten feet above the 
 ground. 
 
 It was quite time. The cave-bear, which had stopped 
 to sniff and discover the wanderers, whose scent was 
 borne to it by the wind, moved forward again at a 
 trot toward the spot where the two lovers had just been. 
 On reaching it, it sniffed again, then rising on its hind 
 paws, cast a cunning glance at the young couple, and 
 such was its height that it seemed almost able to reach 
 them. 
 
 In fact, the cave-bear was greatly superior in size to 
 the bears of our day, the whole creation peculiar to that 
 strange period having colossal proportions. Its forehead 
 
72 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T 0R1C WORLD. 
 
 was bulging, and it was covered with thick fur. Its hab- 
 its and ferocity could only be compared with those of its 
 congener, the “ grizzly bear” of North America, the ter- 
 rible animal whose astonishing feats are related by travel- 
 lers. Its strength equalled its ferocity, and, next to the 
 cave-lion, it was the most formidable destroyer of the 
 pre-historic world. 
 
 Deer, on feeling the warmth of its noisome breath, 
 could not restrain a cry of terror. Fair-Hair hastened 
 to reassure her. Although the brute’s muzzle was not 
 more than a foot from the branch, the animal was too 
 heavy to be able to leap ; besides, like the grizzly bear, 
 it could not climb trees. So the lovers had no cause to 
 fear that it would try to dislodge them from their tem- 
 porary asylum, and Deer, with the changefulness of mind 
 that seems to be characteristic of children and savages, 
 philosophically resigned herself to the situation. 
 
 The cave-bear, after having sniffed a moment, and 
 convinced itself that it could do nothing against these 
 human beings, fell back on all-fours. But either from 
 natural ferocity, or simply on account of the curiosity 
 of which certain animals often give examples, it did not 
 stir from the spot. 
 
 Deer and Fair-Hair took no further trouble about it, 
 and settled themselves comfortably in a fork of the tree 
 to spend the night. They had perceived the impossibil- 
 ity of reaching the cave of Montmartre at this late hour, 
 and their only means of safety was to take refuge in some 
 tree until sunrise. This would do as well as any other, 
 and they could wait patiently until the bear, weary of 
 useless watching, should think proper to beat a retreat. 
 
 Yet Lynx’s daughter showed a certain excitement. 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 
 
 73 
 
 laughing nervously, as if she were not so calm as she 
 would have liked to appear. 
 
 The bear, hearing the foliage rustle above its head, 
 remained on the watch, sometimes standing on two 
 feet, sometimes on four; sniffing and panting by turns, 
 it did not leave its post. 
 
 Deer, irritated by this obstinacy, resolved to avenge 
 herself. She had kept Red’s bow and thrown it over 
 her shoulder, while carrying in her belt the flint arrows 
 and axe. Through mischief, rather than the hope of 
 driving the importunate besieger away, she fitted an 
 arrow to the bow and discharged it. 
 
 She had a certain skill in the use of weapons, for in 
 those days, when human life was constantly threatened, 
 women often found themselves compelled to aid or de- 
 fend their relatives. Besides, the bear was very near, and 
 even a child could not have missed the huge mass, especi- 
 ally as two glittering eyes showed exactly where to aim. 
 
 Deer hit her mark, and a frightful howl instantly 
 echoed on the air. The wounded bear rolled on the 
 ground, trying to draw out the arrow that had struck 
 it, biting itself with rage because it could not succeed. 
 Soon it rose and directed its fury against the tree which 
 served for a fortress to its adversaries. In the twinkling 
 of an eye the old oak was stripped of its bark to a great 
 height by the strong, sharp claws of the animal. 
 
 At the moment the arrow was discharged Fair-Hair 
 could not repress an exclamation of anger. The young 
 girl, terrified by what she had done, threw her arms 
 around his neck, imploring pardon. The hunter’s wrath 
 could not resist her caresses; he returned Deer’s em- 
 brace and answered gently, 
 
 7 
 
74 
 
 THE ERE -HIS T O RIC WORLD . 
 
 “ Imprudent ! Now the bear won’t lose sight of us 
 so long as it has a breath of life.^ 
 
 These anticipations were correct. The animal, after 
 vainly using its claws and teeth upon the trunk of the 
 tree, resumed its position under the bough where the lov- 
 ers were encamped, and began to watch them askance. 
 When the pain of its wound became too severe, it renew- 
 ed its growls and again tore long strips from the oak 
 tree, but returned to its post, and nothing seemed to 
 conquer its obstinacy. 
 
 But the lovers were confident that they had no peril 
 to fear, at least for the moment. Ignorant of the refine- 
 ments of civilized life, they felt little anxiety at the ne- 
 cessity of spending a whole night in a tree besieged by 
 this formidable brute. As a keen wind began to make 
 itself felt, and they wore clothing that protected them 
 very insufficiently against the severity of the climate, 
 they continued to cling closely to each other. Soon 
 Deer, exhausted by fatigue, fell asleep with her head 
 resting on her companion’s shoulder. 
 
 He, on the contrary, took care not to yield to slum- 
 ber. It was his duty to be ready for any event, and 
 save the young girl from a fall which would inevitably 
 have been fatal. So he remained with his eyes wide 
 open, carefully supporting his beloved Deer, who had 
 perfect confidence in his watchfulness and strength. 
 She was often awakened with a start by the growl- 
 ing of the bear, but instantly fell asleep again, making 
 a little plaintive murmur, like that of a child in its 
 mother’s arms. 
 
 This state of affairs remained unchanged until the 
 first light of dawn began to color the sky. Deer awoke 
 
A NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 
 
 75 
 
 in gay spirits, refreshed by the few hours' repose. But 
 t when she cast her eyes toward the foot of the tree she 
 saw the huge bear, which, with bristling hair stained with 
 blood and eyes fiercer than ever, remained at its post. 
 They at first hoped that the daylight would put it to 
 flight, like the rest of the nocturnal animals, whose dis- 
 tant clamor had just died away. In vain. The sun ap- 
 peared, casting its golden rays through the mist and foliage. 
 The bear did not raise the siege ; its restless movements, 
 its howls, showed that its fury was not diminished. 
 
 Fair-Hair looked at the fierce brute, and suddenly 
 said to Deer, 
 
 “ We must kill the bear or stay here through another 
 night." 
 
 The young girl answered timidly, 
 
 “ Arrows won’t pierce it, and stone axes slip over its 
 fur or are blunted and broken." 
 
 “ I will kill it," said Fair-Hair firmly. a We will bear 
 Lynx to the cave of the dead to-day. I’ll summon 
 my family, and we will eat the funeral feast. We’ll 
 eat the bear at Lynx’s funeral." 
 
 Perhaps there was a great deal of bravado in this 
 promise. The lovers had only five or six arrows, and 
 arrows, unless by some extraordinary chance, could not 
 seriously injure an animal of that size. Besides, a hand- 
 to-hand conflict was not to be thought of. No man, if 
 he had been a giant, would have ventured to cope with 
 the iron frame of the cave-bear. Yet Fair-Hair, after 
 pointing out to Deer her share in the conflict, prepared 
 everything for the attack. Soon the growls became 
 incessant; all the denizens of the forest were seized 
 with terror at the noise of this battle. 
 
VIII. 
 
 THE FAMILY. 
 
 ET us now return to Lynx’s cave, where since the 
 
 morning of the preceding day the two children 
 and their mother had been shut up with the corpse of 
 the head of the family. 
 
 During the first few hours Whistler and Rat-Catcher 
 had endured the solitude with a tolerable degree of 
 philosophy. A few rays of light streamed through the 
 timbers Fair-Hair had skilfully arranged, and enabled 
 them to continue their sports while nibbling acorns and 
 chestnuts. 
 
 With the ignorance natural to their years, and the 
 heedlessness peculiar to their rude natures, they gave 
 no thought to their dead father and dying mother, but 
 profited by the perfect liberty they possessed. Yet, 
 mechanically obeying Fair-Hair’s direction, one or the 
 other had not neglected to occasionally dip in water 
 the moss laid on Deafs wound as a dressing. This 
 primitive remedy, which accident had doubtless re- 
 vealed to this ancient generation, was not slow in pro- 
 ducing a marvellous effect. 
 
 Toward the end of the day, Deaf, though she had a 
 fracture in her forehead which would have instantly 
 
 76 
 
THE FAMILY 
 
 77 
 
 killed a woman of our race, gradually recovered her 
 consciousness. Accustomed to expect no assistance, 
 the unfortunate woman dragged herself on her hands 
 and knees toward the horn that contained the supply 
 of water, put her lips to it, and drank eagerly. 
 
 Rat-Catcher and Whistler did not trouble themselves 
 about her. Wearied by the confinement, which had 
 been greatly prolonged, they had just climbed on the 
 rock placed across the entrance, and were trying to 
 remove the timbers to go and play outside. It was 
 a great piece of imprudence, for night was closing in, 
 and the striped hyena that had been prowling around 
 the cave since the morning (perhaps a former owner of 
 the habitation) was lurking in the neighboring bushes. 
 Yet they were on the point of executing their danger- 
 ous project when a harsh cry, half sad, half threatening, 
 rose behind them and made them turn their heads. 
 
 At the sight of their mother they paused in their 
 task. They remembered sundry manual corrections 
 Deaf had often administered, and were not very certain 
 she might not deal new ones. 
 
 So they jumped down from the rock, and approaching 
 the injured woman looked at her with more curiosity 
 than tenderness. As the damp moss that served as a 
 dressing for the wound had fallen off, the oldest boy 
 took a fresh handful, dipped it in water, and laid it on 
 Deaf’s forehead. The old woman, who was at first 
 exhausted by her painful exertions, raised herself again 
 and asked, 
 
 “Lynx?” 
 
 “ Killed,” replied Rat-Catcher carelessly, pointing to 
 the place where the corpse lay. 
 
 7 * 
 
7 8 • THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 Deaf groaned, but continued, 
 
 “ Deer ?” 
 
 “ Red carried her off.” 
 
 Rat-Catcher added almost instantly, 
 
 “ I’m hungry.” 
 
 “ I’m hungry,” repeated his brother, who to show 
 his impatience was drawing the shrillest sounds from 
 his bone whistle. 
 
 The little savages, accustomed to gorge themselves 
 on half-raw meat, really felt as if their stomachs were 
 empty. Deaf, in spite of her wound, in spite of the 
 grief caused by her husband’s death and her daughter’s 
 disappearance, also felt the want of something to eat, for 
 this dull race seemed to possess insatiable rapacity. 
 Yet the mother did not think of herself. On hearing 
 her children’s cry, “ I’m hungry,” she summoned up 
 a little strength and crept toward the place where the 
 acorns and beechnuts reserved for the wants of the 
 family were stored. Alas ! the young gluttons, for 
 want of occupation, had devoured everything ; there 
 was nothing in the cave which could serve for food. 
 
 This circumstance capped the climax of the unfor- 
 tunate woman’s despair, and she sank upon the earth. 
 The children, without troubling themselves any more 
 about her, began to cry, pushed each other, and at last 
 fought without listening to Deafs remonstrances. 
 
 Meantime, night closed in. Rat-Catcher and Whis- 
 tler, whose desire for sleep was even more imperious 
 than that for food, threw themselves on the dry leaves 
 and fell into a heavy slumber. Deaf, exhausted by her 
 exertions and worn out by her terrible suffering, re- 
 mained in the place to which she had crawled. 
 
THE FAMILY. 
 
 79 
 
 It was a terrible night, and human beings at that 
 period must have frequently spent similar ones. The 
 fire, it will be remembered, had gone out long before, 
 and the cold soon chilled the occupants of the cave. 
 Besides, as soon as daylight had vanished the usual 
 howling was heard without, and this time rose inces- 
 santly at the very mouth of the grotto. The obstinate 
 hyena of which we have spoken, perceiving the appa- 
 rent insecurity of the barricade, tried to break through 
 it, and called its companions by its screams. A large 
 band assembled, and during the whole night these 
 hideous animals attacked Lynx’s abode. Some per- 
 sistently scratched the stones to separate them and 
 slip through the interstices. Others assailed the tim- 
 bers with teeth and claws. When one was weary, an- 
 other succeeded it, and they disputed with each other 
 for the best places. Every instant there was reason to 
 fear that the beams might give way ; a hyena often 
 thrust its head between them and filled the cavern with 
 its yells. 
 
 Several times poor Deaf thought that the barricade 
 had yielded, that the monsters had entered her abode. 
 Even the children were roused by the horrible tumult, 
 but sleep soon conquered terror. 
 
 The mother of the family did not give way to despair. 
 Inured to hardships, accustomed to suffering, habituated 
 to danger, she was not a woman to remain inactive so 
 long as a breath of life lingered. Still dragging her- 
 self along on her hands and knees, she took from a 
 corner a spear with a flint head, and lay down near the 
 mouth of the cave. When a hyena became too bold 
 or too noisy Deaf dealt it a blow through the bars; 
 
8o 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 the beast instantly fled howling away, while anothei 
 took its place. 
 
 We see that the night spent by the inhabitants of the 
 grotto was even more terrible than the one passed by 
 Deer and Fair-Hair, besieged in a tree by a cave-bear. 
 Toward morning Deaf no longer had strength even to 
 brandish the spear. She remained unconscious at her 
 post, and if the eager brutes had succeeded in forcing 
 their way into the cave, they would have easily con- 
 quered its only defender. Fortunately, thanks to Fair- 
 Hair’s wise precautions, the bars were firmly fastened, 
 and the hyenas were forced to retire at the first dawn 
 of day. 
 
 Deaf remained motionless for nearly an hour longer ; 
 she seemed dead, but was only asleep, overpowered by 
 fatigue and sorrow. Perhaps she would have remained 
 in this condition still longer, but the slumber that might 
 have been so beneficial was not respected. Her chil- 
 dren rose and began to utter their usual cry, “I’m 
 hungry.” 
 
 Deaf opened her eyes, and, again becoming conscious 
 of her misery, also felt more imperiously than ever the 
 need of food. Besides, the stock of water was exhaust- 
 ed ; thirst was growing as pressing as hunger. It was 
 useless to hesitate; they must leave the grotto. 
 
 The old woman at last yielded to necessity. After 
 having convinced herself, by looking through the bars, 
 that everything was quiet outside, she helped the chil- 
 dren remove the barricade. A gust of fresh air sud- 
 denly entered the noisome cave, full of half-dried bones 
 and all kinds of impurities. Rat-Catcher and Whistler 
 were eagerly climbing the rock to spring out of doors, 
 
THE FAMILY. 
 
 8 1 
 
 when their mother again held them back. She had just 
 perceived some one gliding along the sort of path, choked 
 with bushes, that led to the cave. Now, of all the ene- 
 mies which at that period threatened man, the most dan- 
 gerous was man himself. 
 
 “ Somebody is coming !” exclaimed Deaf in terror. 
 
 The children crouched behind the rock. Deaf had 
 no time to replace the bars, but she seized her spear, 
 stood on the threshold of her subterranean abode, and 
 prepared to repel a new attack. 
 
 She did not wait long; a human figure appeared 
 among the rocks. 
 
 “Deer!” cried the old woman in a transport of joy. 
 
 “ Deer ! Deer !” exclaimed the children in their turn. 
 
 It was really Deer. In one hand she held a bow, in 
 the other a flint axe. She seemed overwhelmed with 
 fatigue. At the sight of her mother alive and standing 
 before her, she uttered an exclamation of joy and sprang 
 lightly into the cave. 
 
 Both seemed happy in seeing each other again, but 
 they did not resort to any of the caresses and embraces 
 by which a mother and daughter of our day would 
 mutually show their affection. They confined them- 
 selves to looking at each other, laughing stupidly, and 
 uttering disconnected words. The children, on seeing 
 their elder sister, who had often provided for their wants, 
 could think of nothing except to repeat their tiresome 
 refrain, “ I’m hungry.” 
 
 Yet Deaf wanted some information. 
 
 “Where is Red?” she asked. 
 
 “ Red ? Dead,” replied Deer. 
 
 “ Good ! good !” cried the old woman, clapping her 
 
82 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 hands with revengeful satisfaction. “And Fair-Hair ?” 
 she continued. 
 
 “ Fair-Hair/' replied Deer, raising her head proudly, 
 “ shot Red with his arrows, and he shall be my husband. 
 He has killed a cave-bear. He’s coming with his whole 
 family to carry Lynx to the cave of the dead, and we’ll 
 eat the bear at the funeral feast. Then Fair-Hair will be 
 master here.” 
 
 “ Good !” repeated Deaf, delighted with the long story 
 her daughter related. 
 
 The boys only understood that there was going to be 
 a feast, and jumped for joy, exclaiming, 
 
 “A bear ! I’ll have something to eat.” 
 
 A few moments after the persons whose coming Deer 
 had announced reached the grotto. Fair-Hair and sev- 
 eral of his relatives, men and women, appeared to bury 
 the body of Lynx according to the rites then in use. 
 
 We can guess what had occurred. The bear, weak- 
 ened by numerous wounds and loss of blood, had at 
 last succumbed to the blows of Fair-Hair and his com- 
 panion ; then both, by great efforts, had raised the ani- 
 mal into a tree to preserve it from the wolves and hy- 
 enas, which would have devoured it a few instants after 
 the departure of the conquerors. Having taken this 
 precaution, Fair-Hair sent Deer alone to Lynx’s cave, 
 which he could do without much danger to her, as it 
 was only a short distance. He himself had gone to the 
 abode of his own family, on the other side of the moun- 
 tain, to make arrangements for his father-in-law’s funeral. 
 
 Besides the persons who accompanied him, several 
 others were to be present at the ceremony, but they 
 had gone to find the bear in the woods. The whole 
 
THE FAMILY. 
 
 83 
 
 number was not more than twenty, though almost the 
 whole population of the neighborhood; for, we repeat, 
 the human race was then by no means numerous, and 
 was scattered over the earth in families. To find other 
 inhabitants of Parisian soil it would have been necessary 
 to go up the right bank of the Seine to Chaumont, or 
 ascend the left to Mont Lucotitius and Grenelle. 
 
 Moreover, the ceremonies of a funeral were the only oc- 
 casions on which these rude hunters met, and the custom 
 of assembling all the invited guests at a banquet had per- 
 haps contributed to the establishment of such a usage. 
 
 Fair-Hair’s relatives were of the same type as him- 
 self, though they had not his frank and almost intelli- 
 gent face. The shape of their skin garments varied ac- 
 cording to the convenience of each individual; fashion 
 did not appear to be very tyrannical. The women, like 
 the men, were armed with bows, lances, or clubs. 
 
 Fair-Hair’s father, still a strong, vigorous man, exerted 
 a certain degree of authority over all the members of 
 his family. He held in his hand one of those singular 
 insignia of office several specimens of which have been 
 found in the strata of the Quaternary period, and which, 
 from their resemblance to those savage chiefs still carry, 
 have been recognized as “ rulers’ batons.” This one, 
 the work of Fair-Hair, was a piece of reindeer’s horn 
 pierced with two holes, on which the hunter had carved 
 the figures of animals.* Still, it may be doubted 
 whether these batons gave the head of a family or 
 tribe undisputed power when age had deprived him of 
 the strength necessary to make himself respected : vene 
 ration for the old is a virtue of later times. 
 
 * Musde de Saint-Germain. 
 
84 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 The new-comers, on entering Lynx's grotto, addressed 
 no courteous greeting, no word of consolation, to the 
 afflicted family. Two men made a sort of litter of 
 branches ; others went to look at the body of the for- 
 mer master of the habitation. All examined in turn the 
 terrible wound in the dead man's head, but said noth- 
 ing ; and if they had any thought, it was doubtless that 
 the man who had dealt the fearful blow must be a 
 great champion. 
 
 The remains of Lynx were placed on the improvised 
 bier, and they set out. Every one followed the bearers ; 
 even the widow, who in spite of her weakness wished to 
 join the procession, especially as the place of burial was 
 only a few hundred paces distant. 
 
 As soon as the body was borne across the threshold 
 of the cave, first Deaf, then Deer, and then the other wo- 
 men present, uttered mournful cries. We must confess 
 that these lamentations, like those at Irish burials, seemed 
 rather prescribed by an invariable etiquette than the re- 
 sult of real sorrow. They ceased when the party had 
 proceeded a certain distance from the dead man's former 
 abode, but burst forth afresh at the sight of the place 
 where the corpse was to be interred. 
 
 Halfway down the hill between Lynx’s cave and that 
 occupied by Fair-Hair's family was a large, low grotto, 
 usually closed by a stone, which by great exertions 
 had just been removed. Before this cavern, whence 
 exhaled a nauseating odor, extended a sort of terrace, 
 on which seven or eight persons were busily occupied. 
 
 A fire had been lighted in the centre of the terrace, 
 and while one of the bystanders constantly threw on 
 wood, others were cutting up the bear, which they had 
 
THE FAMILY. 
 
 85 
 
 had great difficulty in conveying to the spot. The mon- 
 strous animal had been stripped of its skin, and they 
 were detaching the long bones with flint knives and 
 axes, while large steaks, placed on the embers, already 
 poured forth a thick, black smoke. 
 
 On perceiving the funeral train the women on the ter- 
 race united their wails to those Deer and her mother 
 were already uttering ; but this was a mere ceremony, 
 and silence soon returned. Then the bearers placed the 
 body at the entrance of the grotto, at the back of which 
 several squatting skeletons were visible, and before com- 
 pleting the interment they proceeded to the traditional 
 feast. 
 
 Humanity, we see, was at the primitive period when 
 it buried its dead in grottos, so many of which are found 
 in Sweden and Norway. In later ypars men were to 
 build the tumuli and covered avenues — rude monuments 
 which were only artificial grottos. Afterward human 
 pride invented the megalithic monuments and pyra- 
 mids. 
 
 The feast began, and the sight of the hideous corpse 
 stretched on the threshold of its last abode did not seem 
 to occupy the attention of the guests. They sat on the 
 ground around the fire, and ate with their usual gluttony. 
 They began by breaking the bear’s bones — an operation 
 that presented many difficulties on account of their me- 
 tallic hardness, and for which heavy stones were used. 
 The precious marrow having been devoured, the guests 
 attacked the steaks, and each gorged himself with meat 
 without troubling himself about his neighbors. 
 
 They talked little, as usual. But Fair-Hair, the king 
 of the festival, said a few words about his conflict with 
 8 
 
86 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 the great bear of the caves, as well as the manner in 
 which he had despatched Red, the abductor of his be- 
 loved Deer. These remarks were perhaps not very 
 clever, but the guests, with their mouths full, uttered a 
 hearty laugh, which according to our ideas was scarce- 
 ly appropriate to the occasion. 
 
 Deer and her mother took part in the festival, and the 
 poor widow, with her fractured skull and bloody hair, 
 did not seem less eager for food. As to the children, 
 they gave themselves up to the indulgence of their 
 appetites with great delight, and doubtless forgot that 
 the generous repast was given on the occasion of their 
 father’s funeral. 
 
 At last the noise * of the jaws ceased ; the guests, 
 stupefied by food, seemed to understand that it was 
 time to finish the ceremony. They rose, and every 
 body proceeded toward the grotto. 
 
 The women’s wails again arose, and continued while 
 Fair-Hair and another hunter were arranging the body 
 of Lynx in a squatting posture, according to the tra- 
 ditional mode. These arrangements being completed, 
 several pieces of bear’s meat, which had been reserved 
 during the banquet, were placed in the grotto, together 
 with the dead man’s weapons — his bow, club, and spear. 
 
 This was not all; each of Lynx’s relatives, each of 
 the guests, offered a gift to the corpse. The widow ap- 
 proached first, and placed beside her husband a flint 
 scraper and a bone needle, emblems of the tasks she 
 performed in the household. Deer took from her arm 
 a bracelet made of the teeth of wolves and offered it 
 to her father. The boys, roused by the example, 
 brought, perhaps not without regret, one his sling 
 
THE FAMILY. 
 
 8 7 
 
 of auroch’s sinews, the other his whistle of reindeer 
 bone. Fair-Hair laid beside the body an axe, whose 
 bone handle, representing a mammoth, was one of his 
 finest carvings. Each of the guests added to these 
 pious gifts a weapon or utensil which he thought 
 worthy to serve for a present to the dead. 
 
 It is owing to this custom that we find in these an- 
 cient burial-places so many incongruous objects, relics 
 of a world very different from ours. It also proved, 
 let us hasten to say, that these savages, in spite of their 
 brutishness, believed in a second life. This food, these 
 weapons, and utensils of every description, placed in 
 the grotto of the dead, were, according to their ideas, 
 supplies for a new life, whose needs were to be analo- 
 gous to those of this existence ; and, though there are 
 no decisive proofs of it, everything leads to the suppo- 
 sition that they also believed in the existence of a Crea- 
 tor, the sovereign Master of all things. 
 
 After these ceremonies they left the grotto, and while 
 the men were replacing the stone the women uttered a 
 last salvo of wails and lamentations. At last, the work 
 being completed, several of the guests returned to the 
 fire to gather up the remnants of the banquet, while 
 others prepared to accompany Fair-Hair to Lynx’s cave, 
 of which he was going to take possession. 
 
 They began their march with a certain solemnity ; it 
 was a nuptial ceremony succeeding the funeral one. 
 
 First came the head of the family, holding his ruler’s 
 baton, and beside him Fair-Hair himself, armed with his 
 lance with a flint head. Then followed two sturdy 
 young men, carrying the skin of the cave-bear; this 
 skin, the principal wealth of the household, was to 
 
88 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 serve as a bed for the newly-wedded pair. Next walked 
 the invited guests and the dead man’s sons, holding as 
 nuptial torches two glowing firebrands to relight the 
 fire in the cave. The women came last, in the humble 
 attitude the weaker sex occupied toward the stronger in 
 barbarous times. 
 
 They followed the almost invisible path that wound 
 through the woods and thickets, but no one spoke, no 
 joyful exclamations were heard. The nuptial march 
 greatly resembled the funeral procession. No sounds 
 were audible except the groans of poor Deaf, who was 
 suffering from her wound, and to whom no one offered 
 consolation or support. 
 
 Thus they reached the cave, which everybody entered 
 to install the young couple, but there were neither pray- 
 ers, speeches, nor ceremonies of any description. They 
 merely relighted the fire, and when the wood began to 
 crackle and the smoke rose in clouds, Fair-Hair, stand- 
 ing erect, lance in hand, said with marked emphasis, 
 
 “ I am Deer’s husband, and I have avenged Lynx. 
 Now I will feed the family by the products of my hunt- 
 ing. Let each be careful to obey me !” 
 
 Such, according to the ideas of modem science, were 
 the humble predecessors of the Parisian population, 
 which was to exert so great an influence over the whole 
 world. The few savages who inhabited the caves of 
 Montmartre, Grenelle, Levallois, Pecq, and probably 
 other localities, now impossible to recognize, disap- 
 peared with the mammoth and cave-bear at the end of 
 the Quaternary period. Did they perish in the terri- 
 ble cataclysms that ensued, or emigrate with the rein- 
 
THE FAMILY. 
 
 89 
 
 deer and other animals of species still living that have 
 left their bones in our geological strata? No one can 
 say; a more intelligent, if not less ferocious, race suc- 
 ceeded them in future Gaul, and this race we shall study 
 to the threshold of history. 
 
 8 * 
 

Part II. 
 
 The Lacustrian City. 
 
 (AGE OF POLISHED STONE.) 
 

 
 
I, 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 HE northern part of that country which so many 
 
 JL centuries later was to be called “ Gaul ” comprised 
 a vast hilly region, covered with dense forests which 
 stretched far beyond the bounds of the horizon. 
 
 In the centre of a valley surrounded by verdant hills, 
 on the shores of a lake that peacefully mirrored the 
 sky, appeared groves of fruit-trees, whose regularity 
 showed that they had been planted by the hand of 
 man, while a few scanty crops of flax and cereals 
 waved here and there amid the brambles. But the 
 object that would particularly attract the attention was 
 a collection of singular structures emerging from the 
 very bosom of the waters — structures which we shall 
 proceed to describe in detail. 
 
 At forty or fifty paces from the shore, at a bend in the 
 lake, was a large number of piles, which supported a 
 platform of beams covered with earth. On this species 
 of floor were a hundred huts, some conical like the wig- 
 wams of savages, others of a quadrangular shape with 
 low flat roofs. They were arranged to form streets and 
 squares ; the smoke escaping from the top of several 
 showed that they were occupied. 
 
 92 
 
94 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 This aquatic city was connected with the shore by a 
 bridge of boards, which could be readily removed in 
 time of danger. The cultivated fields and fruit-trees 
 evidently belonged to this settlement, many of which 
 existed in that remote period, and which are now called 
 Lacustrian cities . Several pirogues, clumsy and shape- 
 less in form, were moving over the glittering surface of 
 the lake. 
 
 Owing to the vast extent of the landscape, its details 
 when viewed from a distance blended into each other, 
 and little could be distinguished except water and foli- 
 age. If men were moving over the wide space, they 
 were almost invisible to the spectator standing on one 
 of the hills which surrounded the valley. 
 
 Now, on a warm, sunny day a young man who had 
 paused a moment on the summit of a rock was gazing 
 with interest at the scene we have just described. Tall 
 and sturdy in figure, his only garment was a short robe 
 of auroch-skin ; his head and limbs were bare ; his thick 
 hair mingled with a beard which, though somewhat 
 coarse, harmonized admirably with the manly expres- 
 sion of his countenance. He carried on his back a 
 skin bag that apparently contained heavy articles. 
 Leaning on a spear, he held in his hand a large yew 
 bow, while his quiver, filled with arrows, hung over his 
 left shoulder. 
 
 The traveller — for, judging from his weary air, he had 
 arrived in the country after a long journey — did not 
 belong to the human race of the primitive ages. We 
 are now approaching the end of the period of Polished 
 Stone , and the race that had inhabited Gaul in the age 
 of Hewn Stone had disappeared or migrated toward the 
 
THE RETURN. 
 
 95 
 
 North Pole with the reindeer and mammoth. The 
 young traveller was of the purest type of the Aryan 
 race, from which our ancestors, the Celts, seem to have 
 descended. His figure was admirably proportioned, 
 while his oval face, blue eye, aquiline nose, fair hair and 
 beard would have made him in any age and in any coun- 
 try a model of manly beauty. 
 
 Standing in an attitude full of natural dignity and 
 pride, he was gazing with delight mingled with tender 
 emotion at the aquatic city outspread before him, when 
 the sound of a horn was heard. He glanced anxiously 
 around, suddenly fixed his spear in the rock, seized an 
 arrow, fitted it to the bow, and prepared to shoot. 
 
 At the foot of the rock a young hunter had just ap- 
 peared, who had also bent his bow and prepared to dis- 
 charge an arrow. The two strangers continued to aim 
 at each other a moment; then the hunter lowered his 
 weapon, though without putting it aside, and uttered a 
 guttural exclamation ; the traveller responded by a sim- 
 ilar cry. 
 
 After a little hesitation they approached each other. 
 They had not yet banished all distrust, but watched each 
 other with an expression of more curiosity than enmity. 
 
 The hunter, as has been said, was young, and both 
 costume and equipments resembled those of the first- 
 comer — the same tunic of skin, the same weapons ; but 
 he also had a flint axe suspended at his side. He too 
 was not wanting in a certain bold, manly beauty, but his 
 hair and beard were black as ebony, and the expression 
 of his flashing eyes sometimes bordered on ferocity. 
 
 When the two young men were within ten steps of 
 each other they stopped by a simultaneous movement 
 
96 
 
 THE PRE-HIS TORIC WORLD. 
 
 The hunter, in a language whose tones were by no 
 means harmonious, said: 
 
 “ My name is Hurricane ; I belong to the tribe of 
 
 Wolves , that live on yonder hill. I am on the hunting- 
 
 grounds of my tribe, watching for uri and wild boars. 
 Who are you ?” 
 
 “ My name is Light-Foot; I belong to the tribe of 
 
 Cormorants , whose dwellings you see on the lake. I 
 
 left my people ten moons ago to follow some strangers 
 who were journeying toward the setting sun. But I 
 have returned from my long wanderings, and am im- 
 patient to see my home and friends. ,, 
 
 These explanations did not seem to satisfy Hurricane, 
 who frowned and ground his teeth, making a gesture as 
 if he were about to discharge an arrow at the travel- 
 ler’s breast. The latter, who was still on the alert, repeat- 
 ed the threatening manoeuvre, but said quietly, 
 
 “ When I left my tribe there was peace between the 
 Wolves and Cormorants. Has war broken out during 
 my absence ?” 
 
 “ No, your tribe and mine are friendly. It’s you I 
 hate.” 
 
 “ Why, I never saw you — have scarcely heard your 
 name !” 
 
 “ Yet I am famed as a skilful hunter — have shot many 
 aurochs and bears. I want to kill you, because you love 
 Water-Chestnut, the oldest daughter of the chief of the 
 Cormorants, whom I too love.” 
 
 He bent his bow again ; Light-Foot bent his. 
 
 “ I do not fear you,” said he, “ yet it is not Water- 
 Chestnut, the chief’s oldest daughter, whom I want to 
 win for my wife, but Strawberry-Blossom, the younger.” 
 
THE RETURN. 
 
 97 
 
 Hurricane could not restrain a gesture of delight. 
 
 “ Are you not deceiving me ?” he asked ; “ is it really 
 Strawberry-Blossom you want to win ?” 
 
 “ Yes, and I’m bringing gifts to induce Sea-Eagle 
 to bestow her upon me. Can you tell me, Hurricane, 
 whether my beloved Strawberry-Blossom is still in the 
 Lacustrian city, or if any evil has befallen her ?” 
 
 There was a tone in the lover’s voice which no 
 other lover could misunderstand. Hurricane was vis- 
 ibly softened. 
 
 “ Strawberry-Blossom is well/’ he replied ; “ she will 
 not listen to the young men of the Wolves or Cor- 
 morants who come to woo her. But as you don’t love 
 Water-Chestnut, why should there be war between us 
 when our tribes are at peace ?” 
 
 “ Let us have peace, then,” replied Light-Foot. 
 
 He replaced his arrow in the quiver, while Hurricane 
 did the same. 
 
 The ice being broken between the two young men, 
 the hunter added, 
 
 “ I’m a friend of Sea-Eagle, and am going to his hut; 
 may I accompany you ?” 
 
 “ You may,” replied Light-Foot. 
 
 And they began to walk on side by side. 
 
 When they entered the woods to reach the Lacustrian 
 city, Hurricane went into a thicket to get a roe he had 
 killed a short time before and concealed amid the foliage 
 on seeing a stranger. He threw his game over his 
 shoulders, and, without troubling himself about the 
 bloody trail he was leaving behind him, walked forward 
 with a light step, leaning on his spear. 
 
 Ever and anon the notes of a horn, which had already 
 9 G 
 
9 8 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 attracted Light-Foot’s attention, were heard from the 
 depths of the forest, and Hurricane told his companion 
 that several men belonging to his tribe were hunting in 
 the neighborhood. But no baying of hounds mingled 
 with the harsh notes of this primitive instrument, and 
 Hurricane was followed by none of the intelligent quad- 
 rupeds which in our day are the indispensable assistants 
 of every hunter. 
 
 In fact, in the Lacustrian period the domestication of 
 the dog was far from being complete. The animal still 
 seemed too wild, too like its congener the wolf, to be the 
 friend and servant of man, and if its bones have been 
 found amid the remains of the ancient world, they are 
 there for the same reason as those of the stag and 
 auroch; that is,, because the men who lived in the age 
 of Polished Stone ate the dog, as they did the other 
 animals that fell under their blows. 
 
 The young men advanced through the thickets, con- 
 stantly turning aside to avoid impenetrable undergrowth, 
 and Light-Foot overwhelmed his new friend with ques- 
 tions about the events which had occurred in the La- 
 custrian city during his absence. Hurricane answered 
 curtly; he seemed much more inclined to talk about 
 the beautiful Water-Chestnut than Strawberry-Blossom, 
 to whom Light-Foot constantly returned. At last the 
 traveller asked his companion : 
 
 “ So Sea-Eagle, the chief of my tribe, is on the point 
 of giving you his oldest daughter, Water-Chestnut.” 
 
 “Not yet; like all old people, he is avaricious. I’m 
 constantly offering him presents, but they never seem 
 handsome enough. I’m going to give him this roe, but 
 Water-Chestnut is worth more than a roe.” 
 
THE RETURN. 
 
 99 
 
 The hunter sighed heavily. At the end of a moment 
 he continued : 
 
 “ Do you hope to obtain Strawberry-Blossom, Light- 
 Foot ?” 
 
 “ I don’t know. Before I went away I was a fisher- 
 man, and whenever I caught a large fish I brought it to 
 the chief, who accepted it carelessly; but Strawberry- 
 Blossom secretly smiled upon me. Now I have such 
 gifts for the chief that perhaps he will no longer refuse 
 me my beloved.” 
 
 “ What have you ?” 
 
 “ Sea- Eagle shall see,” replied Light-Foot. 
 
 They walked on a few moments in silence. Hurri- 
 cane’s attention was fixed upon the weapon his com- 
 panion carried in his hand. 
 
 “ What is that ?” he asked curiously. 
 
 Light-Foot’s only reply was to hold out his spear, 
 whose point was not, like those of the country, made 
 of stone or serpentine, but formed of a greenish metal, 
 long, sharp, and glittering on the edges. Hurricane, 
 greatly astonished, returned it. 
 
 “ What is it ?” he repeated. 
 
 “ Bronze,” replied Light-Foot. 
 
 This word “ bronze ” was not unknown to Hurricane 
 and the tribes living near the Lacustrian city. Certain 
 nations already possessed a few weapons — axes, lance- 
 heads, knives — made of a substance which bore this name, 
 and which was a thousand times superior to the hewn or 
 polished flint used from time immemorial among preced- 
 ing generations. But this substance, which was extreme- 
 ly rare, appeared more precious to the men of that period 
 than diamonds and rubies would be to those of our day. 
 
100 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 “ So that's what is called bronze ?" said the hunter. 
 “ Now I can guess what present you are going to make 
 Sea-Eagle — a present that will rouse the envy of all the 
 chiefs who live on the lake, fields, and mountains." 
 
 “ This spear is for my own use," replied the traveller, 
 taking the weapon, which Hurricane did not seem very 
 ready to restore. “ I shall use it for fishing, hunting, or 
 against my enemies ; as for Sea-Eagle, I intend to offer 
 him other gifts." 
 
 The hunter said nothing, but again cast a jealous 
 glance at the companion who possessed such wealth. 
 He became gloomy and thoughful, while his frowning 
 brows bore witness to the ungovernable passions aroused 
 within him. 
 
II. 
 
 THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS. 
 
 HE two young men, having left the shelter of the 
 
 forest, turned toward the cultivated region seen on 
 the shore of the lake. As has been stated, there were 
 a few fields of irregular shape, which had been freed 
 from parasitical plants by means of fire, and lightly 
 scratched on the surface with wooden implements, for 
 the plough had not yet been invented. In these fields, 
 so imperfectly prepared, the seeds then in use — various 
 kinds of wheat and barley — had been sown ; several 
 pieces of ground were covered with the beautiful blue 
 flowers of the flax. Along the rough, narrow public 
 roads stood the fruit-trees of which we have spoken ; 
 among them were apple, cherry, pear, and plum. But 
 these trees were far from producing fruit like that which 
 now appears on our tables. Grafting was then unknown; 
 there was only the wild stock, whose fruit was small and 
 bitter. Besides, these fruits were only eaten when dried, 
 and doubtless in winter in times of scarcity, as may be 
 supposed by the stores of pears and apples, dried in the 
 fire, found among the remains of the Lacustrian period. 
 
 Besides these productions, which promised the mem- 
 bers of the tribe vegetable diet, there were several en- 
 9 * 101 
 
102 
 
 THE P RE -HIS T OR/C WORLD . 
 
 closures formed of stout palisades, and intended for 
 the domestic animals — oxen, sheep, and goats — which 
 also served for food. But these animals did not yet ap- 
 pear to be numerous, judging from the small size of the 
 enclosures, which, moreover, were now empty, the cat- 
 tle having been sent to pasture ; probably fishing and 
 hunting offered the people of that remote period more 
 resources for food than the products of their herds. 
 
 Light-Foot and his companion scarcely cast a glance 
 at this primitive agriculture, but turned into a path 
 that led to the foot-bridge connecting the shore with 
 the aquatic city. They were beginning to distinguish 
 here and there men, women, and children busied in 
 tilling the fields ; a larger number were passing to and 
 fro on the platform which supported the village, while 
 the fishermen were moving over the lake in their 
 pirogues. All these people — who in spite of the heat 
 were dressed in garments of skin, with their heads and 
 feet bare — wore a grave, severe expression, which augur- 
 ed little in favor of the gentleness of their manners. 
 
 The arrival of the young men at first seemed to excite 
 no great curiosity, but when they reached the bridge 
 leading to the city there was a change. 
 
 A boy of fifteen, as scantily clothed as possible — that 
 is, he had no other garment than a short goat-skin tunic 
 — was sitting on a beam of the bridge and acting as sen- 
 tinel. He pushed aside the tangled hair that concealed 
 part of his face, and looked distrustfully at the strangers, 
 but soon arose, clapped his hands, and began to run, 
 shouting, 
 
 “ Light-Foot ! Light-Foot has come back ! Here’s 
 Light-Foot !” 
 
THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS. 
 
 103 
 
 And he continued to jump and clap his hands, with- 
 out listening to the traveller, who said, 
 
 “ Yes, yes, it’s I, Greedy Pike; did you suppose I 
 was never coming back ?” 
 
 At Greedy Pike’s cries unkempt heads and frightened 
 faces appeared at the doors of the huts. On recognizing 
 the youth, who had doubtless been supposed dead, men 
 and women rushed out and surrounded him, but their 
 pleasure was expressed only by clapping their hands 
 and by exclamations, affectionate demonstrations being 
 still in a very rudimentary state. 
 
 The two young men, escorted by the constantly- 
 increasing crowd, advanced toward the dwelling of the 
 chief. This house did not possess the circular form 
 of some of the other huts, which strongly resembled 
 beehives. It was built of logs covered with rushes, had 
 a flat roof, one or two small windows without shutters, 
 and a door so low that one was obliged to stoop to 
 cross the threshold. In the centre of the roof a hole 
 had been made, through which the smoke could escape 
 when the wind permitted. 
 
 The chief was absent ; there was no one in the hut 
 except his two daughters, Water-Chestnut and Straw- 
 berry-Blossom. But before speaking of Sea -Eagle’s 
 daughters we will describe the interior of this singular 
 habitation, which, except in size and shape, resembled 
 all the others in the city. 
 
 It contained only one apartment, whose walls were 
 covered with clay. With the exception of a few rudely- 
 hewn blocks of wood, there were none of the articles 
 of furniture which in our day are seen in the dwellings 
 of the poorest peasant. There were neither tables. 
 
104 
 
 THE PR E- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 stools, nor beds, the metal tools for shaping wood not 
 being known. As in former ages, the people slept on 
 heaps of moss, with the skins of bears, wolves, or sheep 
 for coverings. To make amends, a quantity of hetero- 
 geneous articles were scattered over the floor or hung 
 on the walls by bone pegs. There were a few earthen 
 vessels of the rudest workmanship and without any 
 kind of ornament ; large baskets of rushes containing 
 dried fruits or seeds; nets and harpoons for fishing; bows, 
 flint axes, hunters’ spears; and lastly the antlers of stags 
 and horns of wild oxen, intended to be carved. All 
 these objects, which in those days constituted wealth, 
 were in great quantities, as beseemed the dwelling of a 
 chief, the most important person in the tribe. 
 
 We have said that one or two narrow windows had 
 been made in the walls, but air and light were ad- 
 mitted principally through the door and the large open- 
 ing in the roof. The fireplace consisted of a stone 
 imbedded in clay ; around it were ranged the wooden 
 blocks already described; here the family met and 
 took their meals. 
 
 Let us mention a characteristic particular. In a cor- 
 ner of the apartment there was a trap-door overhanging 
 the lake, and at the bottom of this hole the waves were 
 heard plashing against the piles that supported the vil- 
 lage. Herodotus, the father of history, tells us that in 
 his day similar trap-doors existed in the Lacustrian 
 cities on Lake Prasias, where the children were always 
 tied by one foot with a rope of rushes, lest they should 
 fall into the water. Through these openings — whether 
 they served to rid the household of useless rubbish or 
 enabled the occupants to keep alive in osier weirs the 
 
THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS. 
 
 105 
 
 fish intended for food — a quantity of articles must have 
 been lost which now reveal to us the customs of these 
 amphibious tribes ; and as such articles are found only 
 in the neighborhood of the piles, it is to them especially 
 that we owe the discovery of this ancient world.* 
 
 The room was pervaded by an unpleasant odor of 
 sour milk, ill-prepared skins, and imperfectly-dried 
 bones and horns ; besides, the smoke seemed unwilling 
 to escape through the hole in the roof. The chief’s two 
 daughters, however, were in this heavy, offensive atmo- 
 sphere. Water-Chestnut, kneeling before a hollow stone, 
 was busied in crushing grain to make coarse cakes ; 
 Strawberry-Blossom, the younger, seated before a stake 
 filled with flax, was spinning by means of a distaff. 
 
 Both the sisters were really beautiful, though in a 
 somewhat barbarous style. Their regular features had 
 a masculine expression, like those of young peas- 
 ant-girls accustomed to w r ork in the fields, and their 
 complexions were bronzed by the open air. Their dress 
 consisted of a sort of waist of brown cloth woven by 
 their own hands, and which, in spite of its coarseness, 
 seemed to be a great luxury for the times. This waist, 
 which left the arms and part of the shoulders uncovered, 
 was fastened under a skirt of deer-skin very carefully 
 dressed ; their limbs and feet remained bare, according 
 to the fashion of the times. Water-Chestnut was a bru- 
 nette, with bright eyes and a vivacious expression ; Straw- 
 berry-Blossom, who was more delicate in her propor- 
 tions, had luxuriant fair hair, which harmonized admira- 
 bly with her mirthful blue eyes. 
 
 Sea-Eagle’s daughters seemed by no means destitute 
 * Le Hon, Fossil Man . 
 
io6 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 of coquetry. They wore numerous necklaces on their 
 necks and bracelets on their arms and legs. These 
 necklaces and bracelets were made of yellow amber 
 procured in barter, rudely-fashioned glass beads, and 
 even the teeth of wolves and wild boars, like those in 
 the Age of Hewn Stone. Water-Chestnut, whose hair 
 was fastened at the back of her neck, kept it in place, 
 according to the Chinese fashion, by means of long pins 
 of bone or horn. It was to this circumstance that the 
 eldest daughter of the Cormorant chief owed her name 
 of Water-Chestnut, for these pins gave her head a re- 
 semblance to the brown fruits with thorny lobes so com- 
 mon even now in certain ponds, and which then served 
 for food. Strawberry-Blossom, who had received her 
 name from the shrinking timidity of her manner, used 
 only a small number of the ornaments of which her 
 sister was so lavish, and her hair fell in braids on her 
 shoulders. 
 
 The two sisters, on seeing the young men enter, uttered 
 an exclamation of surprise. Strawberry-Blossom, blush- 
 ing deeply, dropped her distaff, while her sister, leaving 
 the pestle, rose to her full height, displaying her majestic 
 figure. Then they clapped their hands as children do, 
 which seemed to be the manner of bidding welcome 
 among this tribe. 
 
 The travellers, after leaning their bows and spears 
 against the wall, advanced toward the chiefs daughters. 
 
 Hurricane laid his game at Water-Chestnut’s feet. “ I 
 have killed a deer on the hunting-ground of my tribe,” 
 said he, “ and brought it to Sea-Eagle to make a feast. 
 On my way home I met this young man, who belongs 
 to the tribe of the Cormorants, and we came together.” 
 
THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS. 
 
 IO7 
 
 “ He is a friend of my father also,” said Water-Chest- 
 nut. 
 
 “ Yes, yes, a friend,” added Strawberry-Blossom with 
 a still deeper flush. 
 
 “ The chiefs daughters have not forgotten me,” said 
 Light-Foot modestly. “ I have been absent a long time, 
 endured many fatigues, braved many dangers. Now I 
 have returned to my tribe, and want to see Sea-Eagle.” 
 
 Water-Chestnut answered : “ Sea- Eagle is the master 
 of his house; he receives whatever guests he chooses. 
 He is now on the lake. I’ll call him ; he will decide 
 what to say and do.” 
 
 She seized a urus horn, went to the threshold of the 
 door, and, putting the trumpet to her mouth, drew from 
 it discordant intonations, strange to hear from such 
 lovely lips. These sounds echoed far over the water, 
 and when they ceased another horn answered faintly 
 from a distance. Water-Chestnut re-entered the hut, 
 and putting back the horn said, “ Father is coming.” 
 
 She eagerly resumed her work, either because she 
 was afraid of being scolded if her task were not finished 
 on the return of the head of the family, or because she 
 felt the necessity of crushing a larger quantity of wheat 
 for the feast which was doubtless about to take place. 
 Perhaps the same thought occurred to her sister, for, 
 leaving her distaff, she went to Water-Chestnut’s assist- 
 ance. Both hastened to make the imperfectly-bruised 
 grain into cakes, which, cooked on the hot stone of the 
 fireplace, were to serve the guests for bread.* 
 
 The new-comers, seated on the blocks of wood, fol- 
 
 * Le Hon, Fossil Man. Fragments of this primitive bread have been 
 found at Robenhausen. 
 
108 THE PRE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 lowed with their eyes the movements of the two beau- 
 tiful housekeepers. The conversation did not languish 
 while awaiting the arrival of the chief. Hurricane con- 
 tinued to maintain a jealous silence, but Water-Chest- 
 nut, and even Strawberry-Blossom, who now displayed 
 an artless loquacity, overwhelmed Light -Foot with 
 questions about the incidents of his journey. Light- 
 Foot answered simply and with a certain degree of re- 
 serve, yet his story made a strong impression upon the 
 young girls, who stopped their work every moment to 
 listen. 
 
 Here, in a few words, is the traveller’s history. 
 
 He was born, as we know, in the Lacustrian city of 
 the tribe of Cormorants, and was scarcely more than 
 ten years old when he became an orphan, but this sit- 
 uation presented fewer inconveniences than it would 
 offer in a civilized community. Education was nothing 
 at a period when neither writing, art, nor science of any 
 kind existed ; the little knowledge mankind possessed 
 was easily transmitted by tradition and practice. Be- 
 sides, life among these savages presented no real diffi- 
 culties. There were numerous fish in the lake, the 
 woods teemed with game, there was fruit on the trees, 
 berries on the bushes, roots in the earth, and the first 
 who came could take possession of them. Moreover, 
 with the exception of the small portion of cultivated 
 land any one was at liberty to build a hut of boughs 
 in the forest or hollow out a grotto in the hillside. 
 Light-Foot, in spite of his youth, therefore found no 
 great difficulty in procuring food and shelter. Without 
 a teacher he learned to bend the bow, manage oars, 
 drive piles, and build huts, hunt, and fish ; after which 
 
THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS . 
 
 109 
 
 his education was as complete as that of the sons of 
 any of the families in the neighborhood. 
 
 But an age had come when Light-Foot, in spite of 
 his accomplishments, had felt a real inferiority in regard 
 to certain persons in the Lacustrian city. He had fallen 
 in love with. Strawberry-Blossom. Now, at this period, 
 as is the custom at the present day among certain savage 
 nations, fathers gave their daughters in marriage only 
 on the reception of a gift proportioned to their wealth, 
 and Lightfoot was unable to offer one suitable for the 
 chief of the tribe. He had vainly served Sea-Eagle to 
 obtain his daughter, as Jacob entered Laban’s service 
 to win Rachel. In return for his good offices he had 
 gained Strawberry-Blossom’s affection, but so long as 
 the father had not given his sanction to their mutual 
 love this advantage was very trifling. 
 
 Matters were in this state when a band of the wander- 
 ing traders who then went from tribe to tribe to make 
 exchanges passed through the Lacustrian city. This 
 commerce, the only one possible in those days, present- 
 ed many difficulties and dangers, for there were neither 
 highways, wagons, nor beasts of burden. The goods 
 were carried on men’s backs through countries covered 
 with forests and infested with wild beasts ; besides, they 
 often encountered tribes who gladly killed the traders 
 to get possession of their goods. Nevertheless, Light- 
 foot, who was full of courage, strength, and enterprise, 
 determined to join the strangers. The bargain had not 
 been difficult to make. The services of a clever, strong, 
 and resolute youth were not to be despised. So with 
 Sea-Eagle’s consent the arrangement was soon com- 
 pleted, and Light -Foot set out with the merchants, 
 10 
 
no 
 
 THE PR E-HI S T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 after secretly promising Strawberry-Blossom to return 
 speedily, rich and worthy of her. 
 
 It was the story of his adventures on this long jour- 
 ney that Light-Foot now related to the sisters, but even 
 with them he showed a certain degree of reserve in 
 regard to the result of his wanderings. Had he or 
 had he not attained the object of his desires ? Nothing 
 was guessed on this subject, when Sea-Eagle, holding 
 in his hand a magnificent fish, and followed by two stout 
 lads carrying nets, entered the hut. 
 
 The chief of the tribe of Cormorants was a man about 
 sixty years old, but who as yet seemed to feel none of 
 the weakness of age. His clothing was a sort of robe 
 of wolf-skin, which revealed his chest with its prominent 
 muscles and his black, hairy, sinewy limbs. His long, 
 tangled gray beard reminded one of the beard of Poly- 
 phemus. His reddened eyes, sun-burnt cheeks, and aq- 
 uiline nose formed a by no means genial countenance, 
 which betrayed cunning and greed of gain. A flint axe 
 in a deer-horn handle hung at his belt, and he leaned 
 on a harpoon of barbed bone as if it were a cane. 
 
 No one rose when he entered, but all eyes turned 
 eagerly toward him. Without taking any notice of his 
 guests, he gave orders to the young men who accom- 
 panied him, and who seemed to be in his special service. 
 Then, while they were arranging the fishing-gear in one 
 corner of the hut, he threw his fish on the floor and ad- 
 vanced toward the strangers. 
 
 “ I have come back, chief,” said Light-Foot modestly. 
 
 “ Oh ! is it you ?” replied Sea- Eagle calmly. “ I 
 thought you were dead, for people don’t return from 
 such distant lands.” 
 
THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 And he carefully scrutinized the traveller, as if to as- 
 certain whether he had grown rich in his wanderings ; 
 but as Light-Foot’s scanty baggage did not seem to 
 announce wealth, a scornful smile curled his lips. 
 
 “ Chief,” said Hurricane in his turn, “ I’ve been hunt- 
 ing, and have brought you my game.” 
 
 “ Very well,” replied Sea-Eagle ; “ let us eat it. Light- 
 Foot shall stay to the feast, for he probably has had no 
 opportunity to treat himself during his journey. — Come,” 
 he added, raising his voice, “ daughters and lads, to work. 
 Fishing on the lake has made me hungry.” 
 
 Instantly all present, even the guests, set to work to 
 prepare the meal. While the two sisters were hurrying 
 the baking of the cakes, one of the young men threw 
 dry wood on the fireplace to make embers ; the others 
 busied themselves in skinning and cutting up the roe. 
 
 These various operations were quickly finished, and as 
 the cooking did not admit of many refinements, the feast 
 was not long in commencing. Several persons, men and 
 women, who had chanced to enter the hut, were invited 
 to join it; and others, without being asked, artlessly took 
 their places among the guests. 
 
 All were seated around the fireplace, some on blocks of 
 wood, others on the ground. The bones and skull of the 
 roe were first broken to extract the marrow and brains, 
 for this generation had inherited the taste of preceding 
 ones for this kind of dainty. Sea-Eagle, his daughters, 
 and the principal guests alone shared this aristocratic 
 food; the others were obliged to content themselves 
 with less delicate portions of the venison. 
 
 When the meat, already divided into fragments, was 
 taken from the fire, half raw and scorched, it was put 
 
1 12 
 
 THE PREHISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 in an earthen dish, and the chief, after helping himself, 
 passed it to the others. There were neither plates, forks, 
 nor spoons ; each tore his share with nails and teeth. The 
 only drink was water, and the vessel containing it passed 
 from hand to hand and mouth to mouth. An idea of 
 the revolting spectacle presented by a feast in those days 
 may easily be formed. The greediness and want of neat- 
 ness of the guests, the noise of their powerful jaws, the 
 crackling of the meat on the fire, the offensive smoke that 
 spread everywhere, would doubtless have excited the dis- 
 gust of a modern epicurean* 
 
 But Sea-Eagle and his guests did not possess these 
 prejudices; the banquet was enjoyable because it was 
 abundant. The roe having been devoured to the bones, 
 they attacked the fish, which had been stretched on the 
 embers in its turn, and was served half raw, as usual. 
 The fish was succeeded by fresh or dried fruits, which 
 the young housekeepers produced from their stores, to- 
 gether with a little hard cheese covered with mould from 
 the dampness of the lake, and the dinner was considered 
 one of the most elegant ever remembered in the Lacus- 
 trian city of the Cormorants. 
 
 During the meal, to the great delight of the guests, 
 Light-Foot had continued the story of his adventures. 
 Hurricane alone remained gloomy, and his eyes softened 
 only when they fell on Water-Chestnut. 
 
 The dinner over, the majority of ‘those present with- 
 drew as they had come, without addressing any word of 
 courtesy to the master of the house, and the young la- 
 dies occupied themselves in restoring the hut to order. 
 It was no long task ; the fragments of bones and rem- 
 * Le Hon, Fossil Man . 
 
THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS. II3 
 
 nants of food scattered over the floor were pushed 
 through the open trap-door into the lake. As to the 
 earthen vessels intended to contain food, no one ever 
 thought it necessary to wash them. 
 
 The chief had not left his place, and seemed to feel 
 the heavy stupor which among people of a certain age 
 follows an abundant meal, when an exclamation of sur- 
 prise was heard behind him. He turned his head, and 
 saw one of his “ young men” gazing at an object lean- 
 ing against the wall. 
 
 “ What is it ?” asked Sea-Eagle. 
 
 The youth’s only reply was to hold out the spear 
 which had already attracted Hurricane’s attention, and 
 Sea-Eagle, in his turn, was seized with admiration. 
 
 “ Bronze !” he murmured in a voice trembling with 
 greed — “ bronze !” 
 
 Guests and young girls came to look at the unknown 
 metal, of which people were just beginning to talk, and 
 whose discovery was to inaugurate a new era in civiliza- 
 tion. All hands were outstretched to hold the precious 
 spear, but Sea-Eagle still clutched it in his fingers, as if 
 he could not release his grasp. 
 
 At last he said slowly, fixing an eagle look upon the 
 traveller, who was smiling, 
 
 “ Do you know, Light-Foot, that your spear alone is 
 worth a hut in the Lacustrian city, a boat with all its 
 nets, a young and pretty girl for a wife ?” 
 
 Sea-Eagle enumerated one by one the objects which 
 seemed to him equal in value to the bronze weapon, as 
 if he desired to propose an exchange. 
 
 Light-Foot exclaimed, 
 
 “You are right, chief; but if I could hope to obtain 
 10* H 
 
1 14 the PRE-HISTORIC world. 
 
 the girl I love, I would offer her father something still 
 more precious than the spear.” 
 
 “ What can be more precious than a bronze spear?” 
 
 * “ You shall see.” 
 
 He opened the skin pouch, which he had not laid 
 aside a moment, and drew from it a bronze axe similar 
 to those found in such great quantities on the site of 
 certain Lacustrian cities and in the ancient Scandinavian 
 tombs. It had no handle, but Light-Foot took from the 
 fireplace a half-burnt bough and thrust it into the socket ; 
 then raising the improvised weapon, he dealt a wooden 
 block near him a violent blow that cleft it to the heart. 
 
 This blow would have shattered, or at least severely 
 notched, a flint hatchet, but Light-Foot, drawing with 
 great difficulty the bronze axe from the cut it had made, 
 showed that it was uninjured and its edge as sharp as 
 before. 
 
 This time admiration knew no bounds, and became an 
 actual frenzy. Sea-Eagle, having dropped the spear, 
 seized the axe, like a child who gives up an old play- 
 thing for a prettier one. In an instant the hut was filled 
 with curious spectators of all ages and both sexes, who 
 wanted to gaze at the inestimable riches brought to the 
 city by the great traveller. They were proud that he 
 belonged to the Cormorants, and each seemed to think 
 the importance of the tribe would be increased in the 
 eyes of the whole world. Water-Chestnut was amazed, 
 and Strawberry-Blossom alternately flushed and turned 
 pale, trembling perhaps lest a lover who possessed such 
 treasures might be capable of disdaining her. 
 
 “ A bronze axe ! a bronze axe !” repeated Sea-Eagle 
 in delight. 
 
THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS. 115 
 
 Light-Foot said gravely, “ Chief, give me Strawberry- 
 Blossom and this axe shall be your daughter’s price.” 
 
 Sea-Eagle started and opened his lips as if to accept 
 the bargain, but the demon of avarice restrained the 
 eager assent he was about to utter. He pressed the axe 
 to his breast. 
 
 “ Will you give me your spear too ?” he asked. 
 
 “ It is yours,” replied Light-Foot with a lover’s gene- 
 rosity. 
 
 Sea-Eagle put the spear and axe together, and was 
 about to give his consent when he perceived that Light- 
 Foot’s pouch was still well filled. 
 
 “ Have you nothing more to offer ?” he replied. 
 “ Strawberry-Blossom is beautiful, and has not her 
 equal in spinning flax.” 
 
 A disapproving murmur ran through the assembly at 
 this new exaction. The people thought that Light-Foot 
 had given enough to obtain not only Strawberry-Blos- 
 som, but all the girls in the tribe. 
 
 “ What I have left is not worthy of a chief,” answered 
 Light-Foot. 
 
 Sea-Eagle at last felt somewhat ashamed of his 
 avarice. 
 
 “ Then take my daughter,” said he. 
 
 Light-Foot uttered an exclamation of joy, and, spring- 
 ing impetuously toward Strawberry- Blossom, raised her 
 in his arms with an air of triumph. 
 
 The marriage was arranged ; nothing remained except 
 to consecrate it by a banquet at which the whole tribe 
 would assemble. No one seemed to think it would be 
 necessary to consult the bride in such an affair, but 
 Light-Foot had long known her feelings on this point, 
 
ii 6 
 
 THE PREHISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 and the pretty blonde smiled in a way that showed she 
 had no dislike to the intended union. 
 
 But Light-Foot had not yet exhausted his bribes. 
 Returning to the wonderful pouch, which, like the inex- 
 haustible purse in the fairy-tales, was a real fountain of 
 treasures, he took out two bronze bracelets of barbaric 
 workmanship and without any kind of ornament, which 
 he placed on the arms of his future wife. Fortunately, 
 these arms were strong, though well formed, for this 
 kind of bracelets seemed very heavy.* The young 
 girl, on finding herself thus adorned, burst into trans- 
 ports of delight. 
 
 The admiration of the company was then transferred 
 to the new treasures the Croesus of the Lacustrian city 
 had just produced. The women could not restrain their 
 exclamations and demonstrations of joy. Each wanted 
 to try these solid gems ; there was not one who did not 
 consider Strawberry-Blossom the richest and most en- 
 viable of creatures. 
 
 Amid the tumult two persons remained dull and silent. 
 Water-Chestnut listened jealously to the eager congratu- 
 lations addressed to her sister, and Hurricane, on seeing 
 Light-Foot so easily obtain the object of his wishes, 
 was filled with secret fury. Nevertheless, the hunter 
 thought this a favorable opportunity to present his re- 
 quest to Sea-Eagle. 
 
 “ Chief,” he said gently, “ you have given Strawberry- 
 Blossom to Light-Foot; will you grant me Water- 
 Chestnut ?” 
 
 Sea-Eagle blinked like a miser who, having just 
 
 * The Museum of Saint-Germain contains several bracelets of this 
 description. 
 
THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS. II 7 
 
 received money, sees a possibility of getting more. 
 He passed his hand over his rough beard and said in a 
 crafty tone, “ What will you give me ?” 
 
 “ I have never left my tribe to seek rare objects at a 
 distance. I use the flint axe, spears, and arrows our 
 fathers used, but I kill much game. I have already 
 brought you fawns, wild goats, and foxes.* I’ll bring 
 more ; I will kill a bear with splendid fur, and a large 
 auroch, whose lairs I know. Besides, I have a pen 
 where I’m feeding two young uri.f I will bring them 
 to you to win Water-Chestnut.” 
 
 Sea-Eagle listened to the hunter’s proposals with a 
 certain degree of approval, and no one knows what 
 he might have answered, when Water-Chestnut, with 
 flushed cheeks and flashing eyes, cried, 
 
 “ What ! bears and uri for me, when bronze is given 
 for my sister ? Am I not worth as much as Strawberry- 
 Blossom ? Is my father tired of me, to give me in ex- 
 change for such pitiful presents ?” 
 
 At that time woman was not a slave, as in the East 
 at the present day, or considered an inferior creature, 
 as among savage tribes, but she was not yet granted 
 the authority she afterward acquired among the Gauls. 
 Water-Chestnut’s boldness therefore excited a certain 
 degree of surprise in the assembly. But the young 
 girl was her father’s favorite, and perhaps this pride 
 secretly harmonized with some design of Sea-Eagle. 
 He answered with his crafty smile, 
 
 * It is certain that the fox, in spite of its unpleasant odor, was one of 
 the favorite meats of the Lacustrians. 
 
 j* A kind of wild ox of a species now extinct, but which was still 
 common in Gaul at the time of the arrival of the Franks. 
 
1 1 8 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC IVOR IE. 
 
 “You hear, Hurricane? Water-Chestnut values her- 
 self higher than uri and bears. Besides, if I let my old- 
 est daughter go, who would make my bread and prepare 
 my fish when Strawberry-Blossom has departed ?” 
 
 These reasons seemed final ; besides, the guests were 
 not sorry to witness this discomfiture inflicted on a man 
 whose tribe often made war on the Cormorants, and sev- 
 eral of the spectators did not have the charity to conceal 
 an insulting laugh at the lover’s defeat. 
 
 On seeing his last hope fail Hurricane lost patience. 
 Everything contributed to exasperate him — the joy of 
 the two betrothed lovers, the ill-concealed scorn of the 
 father, the jeers of the guests, and, above all, the disdain 
 of Water-Chestnut, by whom he had hitherto believed 
 himself beloved. With flashing eyes and clenched teeth 
 he seized his weapons. It was supposed that he was 
 about to commit some deed of violence, and Sea-Eagle, 
 who still held the spear, put himself upon the defensive. 
 But the young hunter turned toward the door; as he 
 reached the threshold he paused and said haughtily, 
 
 “ Sea-Eagle, to be welcome to you a man must pos- 
 sess bronze weapons ; I will have them. Meantime, 
 chief, women, and warriors of the Cormorants, beware 
 of arms of stone !” 
 
 He made a threatening gesture, and, leaving the La- 
 custrian city, was soon lost in the surrounding woods. 
 
 Sea-Eagle shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 “Youth is prompt in anger and uttering bold words,” 
 said he. “ To-morrow, Hurricane will doubtless come to 
 implore pardon.” 
 
 But the witnesses of the seen* did not appear to be of 
 the same opinion. 
 
THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTERS. II9 
 
 “The Wolves are bad neighbors/' said one of the old- 
 est warriors, “and Hurricane is the friend of Gnarled 
 Oak, the chief of his tribe. He will rouse the whole 
 people against us by telling them of Sea-Eagle's wealth. 
 Let us distrust the Wolves, Gnarled Oak, and Hurri- 
 cane.” 
 
 “ I fear no man,” replied the chief, who, in spite of his 
 peaceful occupation of fishing, did not lack courage. 
 
 Light-Foot said in his turn, 
 
 “ If the Wolves attack us, we will defend ourselves. 
 As for me, I shall always find a stone or bronze axe to 
 protect my wife and sister.” 
 
 “ Do I need protection ?” replied Water-Chestnut an- 
 grily. 
 
 Light-Foot did not seem to hear this remark, and 
 continued, 
 
 “ Chief, what day will you name for the marriage 
 feast?” 
 
 Sea-Eagle reflected. 
 
 “ Day after to-morrow/’ he replied. “To-morrow the 
 fishermen will catch the fish, the hunters kill the game, 
 the women crush the grain and gather berries in the 
 wood. We must have a splendid wedding.” 
 
 No one made any objection to the father’s wish, and 
 as the guests withdrew to spread the news, Sea-Eagle 
 continued thoughtfully : 
 
 “ They are right; these Wolves are dangerous neigh- 
 bors, and it will be prudent to watch them. Night is 
 coming on ; I will sound the horn to recall all the boats 
 on the lake, and the foot-bridge shall be carefully guard- 
 ed. Who knows whether these wicked people will not 
 try to rob me of my bronze weapons?” 
 
III. 
 
 THE PRIESTESS. 
 
 T HE tribe of Wolves occupied a “ terrestrial station,” 
 or village on the land, about a league from the 
 Lacustrian city of the Cormorants ; so Hurricane, who 
 was obliged to pass through the forests, needed to 
 quicken his pace to reach home before nightfall. Al- 
 though the wild beasts were neither so numerous nor 
 so formidable as during the preceding ages, a man 
 might be exposed to many dangerous encounters in 
 the darkness amid the interminable woods. 
 
 The young hunter, still under the influence of the 
 emotions he had just experienced, did not think of this 
 peril. Holding his bow in one hand and his spear in 
 the other, he followed a path through the forest A 
 faint light still came from the setting sun, and at in- 
 tervals the notes of a horn, echoing from the distance, 
 announced that the hunters were assembling to return 
 to their dwellings. 
 
 Hurricane walked a long time under an arch of foli- 
 age, when the trees suddenly disappeared, and he 
 entered a region covered with ferns and broom. In 
 the centre of the clearing rose one of the artificial 
 mounds so common in certain provinces in France, 
 120 
 
THE PRIESTESS. 
 
 121 
 
 called tumuli or tumuli-dolmen. For a long time it 
 was believed that these ancient monuments, like the 
 cromlechs and menhirs , belonged to the epoch of the 
 Gauls, but it is now certain that the majority date from 
 the Age of Polished Stone, and the Gauls found them 
 such as we ourselves found them on our native soil.* 
 However this may be, the tumulus in question did not 
 present a smooth surface of turf. A cleft, cut in the 
 base, formed a passage, at the end of which appeared 
 a large stone ; it was the door of a subterranean cavity 
 where the dead bodies of the tribe were placed. The 
 natural caves of former ages had been succeeded by 
 caverns built by the hand of man to serve as sepulchres. 
 
 The place seemed very lonely, especially at this hour, 
 when twilight was beginning to close in. Yet Hurri- 
 cane, raising his eyes toward the summit of the tumu- 
 lus, thought he saw a human form relieved against the 
 sky. He did not know who could be there at this late 
 hour, and was going to stop, when a noise in the grass 
 at his feet attracted his attention. A fox had just left 
 a tuft of heather and was trying to steal away, running 
 at full speed. We have mentioned the singular taste 
 the people of those days had for this offensive game. 
 Hurricane discharged an arrow, which struck the ani- 
 mal in the loins. The latter, though wounded, con- 
 tinued its flight, and the hunter, not wishing to lose 
 the stone head of his arrow, rushed after to pierce it 
 with his spear. He soon succeeded, and as he cau- 
 tiously drew the shaft from the beast’s quivering flesh, 
 the human figure he had seen on the top of the tumu 
 lus suddenly appeared at his side. 
 
 * Le Hon, Fossil Man . 
 
 11 
 
122 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 Hurricane made an impatient movement, and if the 
 devil had been known in those days would doubtless 
 have sent to that personage the individual who now 
 disturbed his solitude. But scarcely had he glanced 
 at her when his countenance changed, and an eager 
 smile replaced the dissatisfied expression of his face. 
 
 This person was an old woman, whose scanty gar- 
 ments of skin displayed her decrepitude and ugliness. 
 Her white hair fell in rough locks upon her thin shoul- 
 ders. Her yellow face, furrowed with wrinkles, was 
 both sneering and sinister. She held in one hand a 
 bunch of wild herbs, which she had just gathered, and 
 in the other a sort of crescent, several specimens of 
 which have been found amid the ruins of the.Lacus- 
 trian cities, and which seem to have been a religious 
 emblem among these primitive tribes. This crescent, 
 made of baked clay, was of the shape and size of two 
 ox-horns fastened at the base. On the half circle were 
 traced several sketches, or rather several straight and 
 oblique lines that crossed each other like ornaments. 
 The old woman carried it reverently like an object of 
 worship. 
 
 At the sight of this person Hurricane assumed a 
 deferential attitude, and, putting his foot on the dead 
 fox, said humbly, 
 
 “ Holly-Branch, your presence here brings me good 
 fortune. I offer you the fox I have just killed.” 
 
 The old woman smiled. 
 
 “ Put it in my hut when you reach the village,” she 
 replied. “ I am looking for herbs to cure Gnarled Oak, 
 the chief of the Wolves, of the fever that is preying 
 upon him. This is the sixth day of the moon, the 
 
THE PRIESTESS. 
 
 123 
 
 time when the plants possess most virtue. Go in peace, 
 Hurricane ; deference from the young to the aged is 
 good ; it makes them succeed in their enterprises.” 
 
 “ Ah, mother ! I greatly need your aid to succeed 
 in my enterprises, for I received a bloody affront to- 
 day, and wish for vengeance.” 
 
 “ Whence do you come ? What has happened ?” 
 asked Holly-Branch curiously. “ You may speak ; my 
 ears are open.” 
 
 Hurricane in a few words related how Sea-Eagle had 
 refused him his oldest daughter, Water-Chestnut, while 
 he gave the youngest to Light-Foot in exchange for 
 some weapons of the precious new material called 
 bronze. 
 
 Holly-Branch was the priestess of the tribe, though 
 religion then was a mere medley of strange, super- 
 stitious, puerile, monstrous, and often cruel rites. The 
 only survivor of her family in consequence of a battle 
 in which her husband and two sons had perished, the 
 old woman, thanks to certain traditional knowledge, 
 had performed the functions of doctor, midwife, and 
 sorceress. She did not exactly plume herself on pos- 
 sessing supernatural power, but used mysterious cere- 
 monies and words adapted to impress untutored im- 
 aginations. Besides, she lacked neither experience nor 
 intelligence, and could give good counsel in time of 
 need. Thus she enjoyed much influence among the 
 Wolves, and Gnarled Oak, whom she was nursing for 
 intermittent fever, willingly listened to her advice. 
 
 Hurricane therefore had an interest in taking Holly- 
 Branch into his confidence, and, to his great satisfac- 
 tion, the priestess seemed impressed by the tale. She 
 
124 
 
 THE PRE-HIS TORIC WORLD . 
 
 remained silent a moment, with her eyes fixed on 
 vacancy, as if reflecting or seeing some vision. At 
 last she raised the hand which held the talismanic 
 crescent, and said solemnly, 
 
 “ I see a red light in the sky ; it is blood. I hear the 
 ravens croaking in the tops of the pine trees ; they scent 
 corpses. Something mutters sullenly in the woods like 
 a fierce wind ; it is the distant roar of the conflagration. 
 Young man, your affront shall be avenged. Come with 
 me to Gnarled Oak.” 
 
 This proposal harmonized with the young hunter’s 
 secret wishes, so he quickly threw the dead fox over 
 his shoulder and followed Holly - Branch, who had 
 turned toward the village. On their way the priestess 
 said angrily, 
 
 “ The Cormorants are proud and hard-hearted. They 
 would give no game or fish to a widow who no longer 
 has children to support her by their hunting and fish- 
 ing. I have seen these daughters of Sea- Eagle ; they 
 are vain girls, constantly laughing — ” 
 
 “ Spare Sea-Eagle’s daughters, Holly-Branch,” replied 
 the young hunter, sighing ; “ I could not forget Water- 
 Chestnut in spite of her scorn.” 
 
 “ You shall be free to bear her away as a wolf seizes 
 his prey,” replied the priestess, smiling, “ and make 
 no presents to a greedy father.” 
 
 Hurricane became thoughtful, and they continued to 
 walk on in silence. 
 
 In a few minutes they came in sight of the Wolves 1 
 village, which was scarcely less singular than the La- 
 custrian city of the Cormorants. 
 
 At the end of a wooded, valley rose a promontory of 
 
THE PRIESTESS. 
 
 125 
 
 rocks, connected, by means of a narrow isthmus, with 
 the neighboring mountain. This promontory formed 
 an extensive plateau which overlooked the whole coun- 
 try, and was only accessible by the tongue of land 
 already mentioned. Here the tribe had settled. 
 
 Although this place might seem naturally very secure, 
 the inhabitants had toiled to render it still more so. The 
 summit of the rock was crowned by a lofty parapet of 
 Cyclopean construction ; that is, formed of huge unhewn 
 stones placed one above another, without being united 
 by mortar or cement. On the side where the promontory 
 joined the mountain a moat had been dug, which isolated 
 the plateau and was crossed by a wooden bridge. The 
 ground thus defined contained the city; it was composed 
 of several hundred round huts, some built of logs, oth- 
 ers of branches, and others simply of osiers, like many 
 Gallic huts of a later date. 
 
 Places similar to the terrestrial station of the Wolves 
 are not rare in France, and especially in Belgium, where 
 they are called intrenched quarters. They may be known 
 by the great quantity of flint axes and knives and broken 
 earthenware found among the ruins. After having been 
 occupied by pre-historic generations, these abodes be- 
 came Gallic camps, then Roman encampments, and 
 finally, on the sites of the majority of them, the Mid- 
 dle Ages built feudal castles for the use of the turbu- 
 lent barons who have left such unpleasant memories in 
 history.* 
 
 The fortifications of the Wolves 1 station not being 
 
 * The city of Limes, near Dieppe, built on a high cliff worn by the 
 sea, seems to have been a terrestrial station of the Age of Hewn 
 Stone. 
 
 11 * 
 
126 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 completed, one could perceive by the last remnant of 
 daylight what means the men of those days, in the ab- 
 sence of metal, tools, and all kinds of machines, used 
 to move the colossal stones whose weight seems to us 
 so prodigious. These means were simply the strength 
 of arm, the number of laborers, and the slowness and 
 patience of the work. At this moment several half- 
 naked men, furnished with wooden levers, who had 
 either been condemned for their crimes to this public 
 service or constrained by local laws to perform a cer- 
 tain amount of labor, were leaving their work, after 
 having spent the whole day in moving a huge block 
 of granite half a foot. 
 
 The tribe of Wolves was not agricultural and peace- 
 ful like that of the Cormorants ; the members lived al- 
 most exclusively by hunting. Therefore, the cultivated 
 fields, enclosures for cattle, and groves of fruit-trees 
 mentioned in the neighborhood of the lake city were 
 not seen. Wild animals, roots, and fruits seemed to be 
 the sole resources of this tribe, which had the repu- 
 tation of being very turbulent and somewhat given to 
 pillage. 
 
 As they approached the terrestrial station they met 
 people who gave a certain animation to the landscape. 
 Noisy groups were moving along the winding path that 
 led to the plateau. Women bearing vessels on their 
 shoulders were returning from drawing water at some 
 neighboring spring. Farther on bands of hunters car- 
 ried, suspended from poles, the deer, stags, and wild 
 boars they had killed during the day. This spectacle 
 greatly delighted their families, who were thus sure of 
 a good supper, and the hunters themselves celebrated 
 
THE PRIESTESS. 
 
 127 
 
 their exploits by drawing discordant notes from their 
 horns. Lastly came some of the poor laborers of whom 
 we have spoken, who with their crowbars on their shoul- 
 ders wearily returned to their huts. 
 
 All these people seemed disposed to exchange a word 
 with Hurricane in passing, but the hunter’s gloomy face, 
 and especially the presence of Holly-Branch, froze the 
 smiles on their lips, and they contented themselves with 
 gazing at them curiously. 
 
 Hurricane and his companion thus crossed the wooden 
 bridge and entered the city of the Wolves. 
 
 It was disgustingly dirty, and the sense of smell was 
 tortured by the most horrible odors. Here were piles 
 of bones, and farther on skins freshly stripped from the 
 animals were drying on poles before the huts. The 
 majority of these huts had no doors, and it was evident 
 that the interiors presented the same smoky, wretched 
 aspect. 
 
 They soon reached the dwelling of the chief, the size 
 of which recalled that of Sea-Eagle’s, though it was less 
 amply supplied with provisions and utensils of every de- 
 scription. Women and children were moving about the 
 fire, on which some slices of venison had just been laid 
 to broil. The master of the house himself was suffering 
 from a violent attack of fever, and, stretched on some 
 dry leaves, occasionally uttered low moans. 
 
 Gnarled Oak, as far as could be judged by the uncer- 
 tain light of the fire, was a man of middle size, but 
 stout and with sinewy limbs, as his name indicated. 
 The disease had not yet triumphed over his extraordi- 
 nary strength, and his bare arms, which he sometimes 
 threw over his bear-skin covering, showed the muscles 
 
128 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 of a Hercules. His bearded face, with its flushed 
 cheeks, wore an expression of unusual brutality and 
 harshness. 
 
 Thirst was consuming him, and an almost naked lad 
 who acted as nurse had enough to do to bring him 
 every moment a vessel filled with water. Gnarled Oak 
 was in the act of drinking when Holly-Branch entered, 
 followed by Hurricane, who remained in the shade. 
 
 At the sight of the priestess the chief raised himself 
 on his elbow, his eyes flashing with fury. 
 
 “ Is that you, old martlet ?” he cried hoarsely; “you 
 promised to cure me, and you go away when I am suf- 
 fering. Cure me quickly, or Til kill you and throw 
 your carcass to the wild dogs.” 
 
 Holly-Branch seemed to be no more moved by these 
 threats than a physician is moved by the powerless rage 
 of a sick child. 
 
 “ Patience, chief,” she replied. “ This is the sixth day 
 oi the moon, that cures everything, and under its influ- 
 ence, holding in my hand the sacred crescent, I have 
 gathered wonderful herbs. I’m going to make you a 
 drink ; you will soon be able to dash through the forest 
 at the head of your hunters.” 
 
 And she quietly began to heat the water in an earthen 
 vessel. Gnarled Oak was still shivering on his couch, 
 but he answered in a gentler tone, 
 
 u You’ve cheated me a long time with fine promises, 
 and the sickness always returns. Cure me, and I’ll 
 give you plenty of skins, stags’ horns, and venison.” 
 Suddenly he saw Hurricane, who was standing aside, 
 and his rage rekindled. 
 
 “ What does Hurricane want?” he cried. “ Do I need 
 
THE PRIESTESS. 
 
 I29 
 
 to hear the report of the hunters, and know how much 
 game they have killed? Let them leave me alone.” 
 Holly-Branch hastily interposed. 
 
 “ Chief,” she said, “ your young man comes to com- 
 plain of an insult he has received from Sea-Eagle, the 
 chief of the Cormorants, that you may avenge it.” 
 
 “ Hm ! Let him avenge it himself,” replied Gnarled 
 Oak sulkily. 
 
 “ Are you ignorant, chief, that the affront is addressed 
 to you ? Sea-Eagle has refused Hurricane his daughter 
 through contempt for the tribe of Wolves. His head 
 has been turned ever since he possessed a bronze axe 
 and spear, while his daughter has bracelets of the same 
 precious material. He thinks himself the first chief in 
 the country ; he believes his tribe the first of the tribes 
 in the world. That’s why he has insulted a brave war- 
 rior, a hunter renowned among the Wolves.” 
 
 Gnarled Oak, but now so feeble, started up. 
 
 “ What did you say ?” he asked ; “ Sea-Eagle has an 
 axe, spear, and ornaments of bronze? I never saw 
 any.” 
 
 Holly-Branch signed to Hurricane to approach, and 
 the hunter related the events of the day. 
 
 The sick man listened to the tale with deep interest ; 
 when the arms given by Light-Foot were described his 
 eyes glittered with avarice, as Sea-Eagle’s had sparkled 
 a short time before. At last, clenching his fists and 
 grinding his teeth, he exclaimed, 
 
 “ Such arms for that old Sea-Eagle, who only knows 
 how to manage boats and harpoons, while I, the chief 
 of the Wolves, have nothing but stone weapons ! What 
 a disgrace to me! — Woman,” he continued, addressing 
 
 I 
 
130 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 himself to Holly-Branch, “ make haste and cure me, 
 that I may go and seize Sea-Eagle's spear and axe." 
 
 “ Listen, chief," replied the priestess, serving smoking 
 •hot the beverage she had just prepared, and into which 
 she had plunged by turns the two horns of the mystic 
 crescent; “you must drink this. Perhaps you won’t 
 be entirely cured of your fever, for you are so fierce, so 
 impatient, that my remedies cannot act thoroughly upon 
 you ; but after to-morrow it will not return for a week. 
 During this time you will be able to avenge your in- 
 sult." 
 
 “ A week !" cried Gnarled Oak. “ I don't ask so much 
 to crush Sea-Eagle and his tribe. Since you promise, 
 old woman, that I shall be able to wield my bow and 
 spear to-morrow, I will not wait much longer. — Hurri- 
 cane," he added, “take the horn near the door and 
 sound it to summon all my ‘young men.' I’ll give 
 them my orders, that they may prepare for battle." 
 
 As the hunter was about to execute this command, 
 Holly-Branch interposed : 
 
 “ What are you doing, chief? If you reveal your 
 plans in advance, Sea-Eagle cannot fail to be warned 
 and on his guard. Isn’t it better to attack him unex- 
 pectedly? The danger will be less and the advantage 
 greater." 
 
 We have spoken of the power the sorceress exer- 
 cised over the mind of the chief, and this time also 
 her counsels were heard. Gnarled Oak recalled 
 Hurricane. 
 
 “ She is right," said he ; “I don't want Sea-Eagle 
 warned. But, then, what is to be done ?" 
 
 The old woman began to talk in a low tone, and they 
 
THE PRIESTESS. 
 
 131 
 
 consulted with Hurricane, who was to have an im- 
 portant part in the intended assault. 
 
 Gnarled Oak seemed overwhelmed with fatigue. 
 
 “ Give me the drink, Holly-Branch,” said he, “ and 
 go away : I want to sleep. To-morrow I shall know 
 whether your remedies have any virtue.” 
 
 The old woman gave him the drink ; then, after draw- 
 ing the bear-skin covering over the sick man’s shoul- 
 ders, told the women in the hut how to nurse him, and 
 retired with her companion. 
 
 While on the way to their respective abodes the 
 hunter was in an ecstasy of delight. 
 
 “ It is a lucky chance,” he said to Holly-Branch, 
 “that placed you in my path. I shall be avenged on 
 that haughty Water-Chestnut, the greedy Sea-Eagle, 
 the crafty Light-Foot — all the tribe I despise and hate. 
 Water-Chestnut would not be my companion ; she shall 
 be my slave.” 
 
 “ And you will reward your protectress,” replied the 
 priestess, smiling ; “ generosity suits a man whose 
 wishes are fulfilled.” 
 
IV. 
 
 THE WEDDING. 
 
 T HE following day was employed by the Cormo- 
 rants in making preparations for Strawberry-Blos- 
 som's wedding. 
 
 Every one, large and small, took part in supplying the 
 provisions, the marriage consisting only of a feast, with- 
 out civil or religious ceremony of any description. 
 
 Thanks to the united efforts of the tribe, fish, game, 
 and fruits abounded iru the Lacustrian city, but it had 
 been noticed with surprise that all day long no member 
 of the tribe of Wolves, usually so active, had been met 
 in the forests or the plain. This had made Light-Foot 
 uneasy. Suspecting some plot on the part of Hurri- 
 cane, he communicated his fears to his future father-in- 
 law, but this time Sea-Eagle did not share them. The 
 reserved attitude of his neighbors seemed to him a mere 
 fit of ill-temper which would not hold out against the 
 temptations of gluttony, and he expected to see them 
 appear to share the banquet with the greed of the ani- 
 mals whose name they bore. 
 
 The great day came at last, and as the platform of 
 the Lacustrian city, besides the danger of fire, did not 
 afford sufficient space for a numerous gathering, the 
 132 
 
THE WEDDING. 
 
 133 
 
 feast was to take place on firm land, on the shore of the 
 lake. Fires had been lighted, and by the side of these 
 fires were heaps of stags, wild boars, and foxes, which 
 hundreds of hands were in the act of cutting up, and 
 which gave the scene of the banquet the appearance of 
 a slaughter-house or field of carnage. Broken bones, 
 skins, raw and bloody flesh, were scattered in every 
 direction. Men, women, and children moved to and 
 fro, engaged in cooking and devouring these mountains 
 of provisions. 
 
 This barbarous festival bore no resemblance to the 
 banquets of our civilized period. The guests did not 
 wear any handsomer dresses than usual, for the excel- 
 lent reason that they had no change of garments, and 
 no one thought of going to the water of the neighboring 
 lake to efface the traces of his hideous occupation. The 
 amusements in fashion on similar occasions were not 
 yet known. Dancing consisted of a few clumsy move- 
 ments ; music was confined to the mournful notes the 
 fishermen and hunters produced with an ox-horn to 
 call each other from a distance. While the feast was 
 being prepared the young men were discharging arrows, 
 hurling javelins, vying with each other in running and 
 leaping ; but these exercises seemed to be their usual 
 occupations, and a response to the need of motion nat- 
 ural to youth, rather than to have any special relation 
 to the feast. 
 
 Sea-Eagle was walking about among the crowd, 
 showing with artless delight his bronze spear and axe, 
 to which he had fitted a splendid handle made from a 
 stag’s antler. These objects never ceased to excite the 
 admiration of the Cormorants, and of the Beavers, an 
 12 
 
134 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 other Lacustrian tribe that lived at the end of the lake. 
 The people of this tribe, whose boats were seen sweep- 
 ing forward impelled by oars, were attracted rather by a 
 desire to see these wonders than to attend the wedding. 
 Sea-Eagle, with inexhaustible good-nature, was obliged 
 every moment to strike his axe into the trunk of a tree 
 or hurl his spear at a mark, to prove the superiority of 
 his weapon to the stone arms exclusively used during so 
 many ages. 
 
 The chiefs two daughters, especially the bride, after 
 having performed their share of the work, thought it 
 advisable to make some changes in their dress. But this 
 toilet was very quickly performed ; they threw over their 
 usual garments a narrow piece of cloth of snowy white- 
 ness, the work of their own hands, which they draped 
 with artistic taste. Strawberry-Blossom braided her 
 beautiful fair hair, in which she did not think of putting 
 a field flower, and adorned herself with the heavy bronze 
 rings that aroused the envy of the whole feminine popu- 
 lation. The brunette, Water-Chestnut, contented her- 
 self with fastening on her head, with bone hair-pins, the 
 luxuriant tresses that harmonized with the marked cha- 
 racter of her beauty. 
 
 The two young girls had made these changes in 
 silence, without giving each other any assistance. True, 
 the affectionate attentions and kindly offices exchanged 
 between two sisters of the present day did not usually 
 exist between the Minna and Brenda of the Lacustrian 
 city, but, in spite oLthe rudeness of manners, Straw- 
 berry-Blossom and Water-Chestnut felt a regard for 
 each other that often found expression in mutual good 
 offices. The cause of the sudden coldness was the 
 
THE WEDDING. 
 
 *35 
 
 older sister’s jealousy on seeing the younger loaded 
 with rich gifts. So she had not spoken a word to 
 Strawberry-Blossom since the evening before, but re- 
 mained sullen, irritable, and gloomy. 
 
 Poor Strawberry-Blossom, whose temper was naturally 
 more gentle, keenly felt her sister’s ill-humor, and had 
 made several advances to Water-Chestnut, who had 
 repelled them all. At this moment especially she 
 seemed very much hurt ; her eyes were dim with tears. 
 She was secretly watching her elder sister, and appeared 
 to wish to make another attempt to be reconciled, but 
 lacked courage. At last, unable to hold out any longer, 
 she burst into tears, snatched the bronze bracelets from 
 her arms, and offered them to Water-Chestnut, saying 
 impetuously, 
 
 “ Take them ! I would rather never adorn myself 
 than see you neither look at me, speak to me, nor— 
 love me.” 
 
 The older girl, with an impulsive gesture, seized the 
 bracelets, put them on her arms, and made them clink, 
 still without uttering a word. Nevertheless, after admir- 
 ing herself a moment, she drew them off and returned 
 them. 
 
 “They belong to you,” she said. “You are beau- 
 tiful ; men offer bronze to win you ; I am doubtless ugly, 
 since they give only skins, uri, and game.” 
 
 “ No, no ; you are more beautiful than I, Water- 
 Chestnut. Take one of the bracelets at least; we are 
 sisters — our ornaments ought to be alike. Take it, 
 take it, I beseech you, and love me still.” 
 
 Water-Chestnut’s face visibly softened, for her pride 
 had received marked satisfaction. She was turning the 
 
136 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T OR 1C WORLD . 
 
 bracelet in her fingers when Light-Foot entered to see 
 if his bride were ready. 
 
 He too still wore his simple travelling-dress, and 
 carried the pouch that had contained his treasures. To 
 make amends, his weapons (and weapons comprised all 
 the masculine luxury of the period) showed that he had 
 not exhausted his wealth in favor of his bride and future 
 father-in-law. The axe that hung at his belt was bronze, 
 and scarcely less beautiful than the chief’s. The spear 
 which replaced the former one had only a stone point, 
 but the stone was jade, admirably polished and remark- 
 ably hard. Thus equipped, Light-Foot could vie in 
 magnificence with Sea-Eagle himself 
 
 He had doubtless heard the discussion between the 
 two sisters, for he said, smiling, “ Keep your bracelets, 
 Strawberry-Blossom. While waiting for Water-Chest- 
 nut’s future husband to bring presents worthy of her, 
 I have reserved a few objects that perhaps she will 
 fancy.” 
 
 He drew from the famous pouch, from which he had 
 taken so many things, and which, we must admit, now 
 hung lank and nearly empty on his hip, two of the long 
 bronze hair-pins numerous fragments of which have been 
 found amid the ruins of the Lacustrian cities. They were 
 new and sparkling, and the lustre of their faceted heads 
 would have reminded one of gold, if gold had been 
 known at that period. 
 
 Water-Chestnut uttered a cry of delight, seized the 
 bronze pins, and thrust them into her thick hair beside 
 the bone ones that already adorned it. Then, for want of 
 a mirror, she ran to the trap-door opening on the lake, 
 and bending forward admired herself in the water.. 
 
THE WEDDING. 
 
 l 37 
 
 She soon came bounding back toward her sister and 
 Light-Foot. A deep color flushed her cheeks; her eyes 
 sparkled with pride, pleasure, and gratitude. Her broth- 
 er-in-law’s gifts evidently seemed to her more valuable 
 than Sea-Eagle’s envied weapons, or even the bracelets 
 of the bride. 
 
 She put one hand on Light-Foot’s shoulder, the other 
 on that of Strawberry-Blossom, and stammered, 
 
 “ Brother ! sister !” 
 
 This was all. The race, we have said, was not demon- 
 strative, and the simple words were equal to long prot- 
 estations of gratitude. Strawberry-Blossom so under- 
 stood them, and, overjoyed at this return of affection, 
 knew no other way of expressing her delight than by 
 an artless laugh, whose silvery tones filled the hut. 
 
 Water-Chestnut went to admire herself again in the 
 lake ; then said, sighing, 
 
 “Ah, if Hurricane could see me, how beautiful he 
 would think me !” 
 
 “So,” asked Light-Foot, “you still want Hurricane 
 for a husband?” 
 
 “ Why not ? He is a good hunter, a brave warrior. 
 Is it his fault if he has nothing but deer and uri to offer 
 my father? He has gone back to his tribe, but he’ll 
 return when he knows I am so rich.” 
 
 “And I will speak to Sea-Eagle,” said Light-Foot, 
 “ that he may not refuse his request.” 
 
 “ Oh, how kind you are !” exclaimed Strawberry- 
 Blossom in delight. 
 
 “ How kind you are !” repeated Water-Chestnut, and 
 almost instantly added, “ How did you procure so many 
 treasures? Tell us. Hurricane is brave and strong; he 
 12* 
 
138 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 will follow your example ; he will go and return with a 
 pouch full of bronze articles/’ 
 
 Light-Foot smilingly shook his head. “ Chance gave 
 me these treasures,” said he. “ Listen ! Strawberry- 
 Blossom and you will remember that I followed the 
 traders who go from tribe to tribe. My condition was 
 hard enough. I was obliged to carry a heavy burden 
 through countries without roads, hunt for my masters, 
 and defend them against wild beasts. We marched on 
 in this way a long time, and it seemed to me that we 
 must have reached the end of the world. At last we 
 stopped, and after remaining in a city some time it was 
 announced that we were to return. 
 
 “ I had gained no wealth in our traffic, for I lacked 
 articles to barter, and various accidents had deprived me 
 of my modest gains. During the journey I had attached 
 myself to an old merchant who came from a long dis- 
 tance, and was born, it was said, in a country near the 
 rising sun. He did not trade constantly, like the others, 
 and it was not supposed that he possessed many valuable 
 things. But he always carried a pouch which he allowed 
 no one to touch, and at night slept with it for a pillow. 
 
 “ The trader had taken a fancy to me, and I rendered 
 him every service in my power. On our return he sud- 
 denly became so weak that he could scarcely follow the 
 party. I helped him as well as I could, but his sickness 
 rapidly increased, and he soon found himself unable to 
 walk. The leader of the company, however, was un- 
 willing to order a halt, for we were in a desert region 
 infested with wild beasts. To leave the old man in the 
 midst of the woods was to expose him to certain death. 
 I proposed to stay with him and give him every assist- 
 
THE WEDDING . 
 
 139 
 
 ance in my power, while the others continued their way. 
 They gave me directions for joining them, and left us, 
 the old man and myself, in this desolate place. It was 
 to this act of compassion that I owe my wealth.” 
 
 “ I understand,” interrupted Water-Chestnut ; “ the 
 old trader had the bronze utensils in his pouch ; to 
 secure them you pierced the man with your lance.” 
 
 The beautiful brunette had expressed this conjecture 
 as a very natural thing, but Strawberry-Blossom asked 
 timidly, 
 
 “ Did you do that, Light-Foot?” 
 
 “ It would have been the act of a clever man,” added 
 Water-Chestnut. 
 
 Light-Foot shook his head. “ No,” he replied, “I 
 did not do so, for, in the opinion of wise and experi- 
 enced people, it would have been wrong. On the con- 
 trary, I rendered him every possible service. I built 
 him a hut of branches, lighted the fire, watched him 
 as I would have watched a sick friend. But he passed 
 a terrible night ; the next morning he motioned to me 
 to approach, and said faintly, ‘ I feel that I am dying. 
 When I am gone bury me in the earth and return to 
 your country. My pouch contains various bronze 
 articles collected in trading among distant nations. IT1 
 give them to you as a reward for your devotion to 
 me/ 
 
 “ I asked the old man if he had any message for his 
 tribe or his friends, but he was unable to say more, 
 and did not even seem to hear. He died that evening. 
 I dug a grave, where I laid the body, and rolled a large 
 stone over it to protect it from beasts of prey. Then I 
 opened the old man’s pouch, and found all the precious 
 
Mo 
 
 THE TEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 articles you have seen. They did not cost a single drop 
 of blood. May they not cause any to be shed in the 
 future ! 
 
 “ I set out and tried to join the traders, but could not 
 overtake them ; they had either taken another way or 
 gained too long a start. Then, thanks to the directions 
 given me, I turned toward the Lacustrian city of the 
 Cormorants, and soon arrived here, in spite of difficul- 
 ties and dangers.” 
 
 Water-Chestnut still seemed to regret that the riches 
 she admired had not been gained at the cost of bloody 
 deeds, but neither of the two sisters expressed any 
 opinion on the subject, for they were in haste to return 
 to the feast, where the guests were awaiting them. 
 
 They therefore, draped in their ample linen garments, 
 went out with Light-Foot and approached the shore, 
 where a numerous crowd had assembled. Both were 
 really beautiful, but the attention of the throng, that 
 of the women especially, was instantly attracted by 
 Water-Chestnut’s pins and Strawberry-Blossom’s brace- 
 lets. The men, on their part, went into ecstasies over 
 the magnificent weapons Light-Foot had retained for 
 himself; and Sea-Eagle, discovering his son-in-law’s 
 wealth, secretly reproached himself for not having 
 exacted a higher price for his daughter ; his axe seem- 
 ed much less beautiful since Light-Foot owned a sim- 
 ilar one. 
 
 We will not enter into the sometimes revolting details 
 of the banquet, which soon commenced and was pro- 
 longed until the evening, As night approached most 
 of the guests seemed stupefied by the excess of food. 
 A large number had gone to sleep under the trees in 
 
THE WEDDING. 
 
 141 
 
 the neighboring woods. The fires were beginning to 
 die out ; cooking had ceased for want of provisions. 
 
 Sea-Eagle, seated at the foot of an oak, was thinking 
 how he could rob his son-in-law of the treasures he 
 still retained, while Light-Foot, whose place was be- 
 tween his sister-in-law and his wife, was talking in a 
 low tone to Strawberry-Blossom. Suddenly, Greedy 
 Pike, the lad already mentioned, and who was one of 
 the chief’s “ young men ” or servants, came running 
 out of the neighboring forest. Greedy Pike, faithful to 
 his name, had taken a large share of the good cheer, 
 and was one of those who after a hearty meal had 
 found it necessary to sleep several hours under the 
 trees. ' 
 
 He arrived panting for breath, his hair streaming in 
 the wind. 
 
 “ Chief,” he said hurriedly, “ the Wolves are close at 
 hand. They are coming. I saw them.” 
 
 “ The Wolves !” repeated Sea- Eagle, misunderstanding, 
 or pretending to misunderstand, the meaning of the 
 word ; “ well, isn’t the forest the place for wolves ?” 
 
 And he began to laugh. 
 
 “No, no, chief,” replied Greedy Pike, pointing to the 
 edge of the woods, where groups of men were beginning 
 to appear, “ not wild beasts, but the Wolves of Gnarled 
 Oak and Hurricane. They doubtless want to seize your 
 bronze axe.” 
 
 “ My bronze axe !” said the chief, rising and assuring 
 himself that the precious weapon still hung at his 
 side. 
 
 Yet he hesitated to give the alarm, and was watching 
 in the twilight the more and more numerous bands of 
 
142 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 men coming from the forest, when Light-Foot, who had 
 also risen, cried, 
 
 “ Beware, chief! the Wolves are about to attack us. 
 Quick! quick! women and children, return to the city. 
 The men will guard the bridge. To the city, I tell 
 you !” 
 
 “ Yes, yes, to the city !” repeated Sea-Eagle. 
 
V. 
 
 THE BATTLE . 
 
 I ^EW persons among the Cormorants were in a con- 
 dition to obey this summons. Some, as we have 
 said, were sleeping here and there on the grass; the 
 others could scarcely move. The majority had not 
 heard or had not understood the chiefs order. Yet 
 several ran toward the bridge that led to the city, and 
 there was hope that they would reach this place of 
 refuge. 
 
 But their enemies did not give them time. Gnarled 
 Oak’s warriors, seeing themselves discovered, no longer 
 hesitated to act, but rushed forward, uttering fierce 
 yells. 
 
 Their object was to cut off the Cormorants and occu- 
 py the wooden bridge before them. The Cormorants 
 knew this, and while the women and children doubled 
 their speed to gain the narrow passage, the warriors — 
 among them Sea-Eagle and Light-Foot — went forward 
 to meet the treacherous assailants. 
 
 Unfortunately, the forces were unequal. The members 
 of the tribe, surprised in the midst of a banquet, had 
 only their spears and axes for defence. The Wolves, 
 on the contrary, were supplied with bows, quivers filled 
 
 143 
 
144 
 
 THE PR E- HIS TORIC WORLD . 
 
 with arrows, and javelins which they hurled from a long 
 distance with much skill. Thus they profited by their 
 advantage, by directing a shower of arrows upon their 
 adversaries. 
 
 Soon the piteous cries of the wounded mingled with 
 the shouts of menace or terror that rose on all sides. 
 Sea-Eagle, who, as we have said, did not lack courage, 
 wished to march forward with his “young men,” and 
 perhaps try his bronze arms upon the enemy. But 
 Light-Foot, after pushing Strawberry-Blossom and 
 Water-Chestnut toward the bridge, thought it his duty 
 to attempt to effect a reconciliation, and, advancing 
 before the others, cried, 
 
 “ Men of the tribe of Wolves, why do you attack 
 us ? What offence have we committed ? Why do you 
 wish to shed our blood, when we don’t think of shed- 
 ding yours?” 
 
 Light-Foot, as the reader must have perceived, had 
 more intelligence and humanity than would ordinarily 
 be found among these savage tribes. Yet it was not 
 the moderation of his conduct that for a moment awed 
 the enemy, but the boldness with which he advanced 
 toward them ; and they stopped. Gnarled Oak, who 
 according to Holly-Branch’s promise, though pale and 
 weak, commanded the expedition, said haughtily, 
 
 “ Sea-Eagle has insulted us by refusing to give his 
 daughter to a hunter of the tribe of Wolves. I am 
 the chief. I must avenge the insult offered one of my 
 young men.” And he raised his arm as if to strike. 
 
 Light-Foot, without moving, replied, 
 
 “ Hurricane, the hunter of whom you speak, was too 
 hasty, and took a thoughtless word in earnest. The 
 
THE BATTLE . 
 
 145 
 
 proof is that, at my request, Sea-Eagle will give his 
 daughter, Water-Chestnut, to your 4 young man.’ ” 
 
 “ Are you telling the truth ?” cried Hurricane, who 
 was standing a few paces away, and now impatiently 
 approached. 
 
 “ Sea- Eagle will give you his promise, and we will 
 live in peace as before.” 
 
 All eyes turned toward the chief of the Cormorants, 
 who said to his son-in-law eagerly in a low tone, 
 
 “ So you're ready to give me your last axe and your 
 spear with the jade point ?” 
 
 “ Yes,” replied Light - Foot ; “ peace between our 
 tribes is preferable to any wealth.” 
 
 Gnarled Oak brutally interrupted the speakers. 
 
 “ What is that to me, the chief of the Wolves ?” he 
 cried. “ I am told Sea- Eagle has a bronze axe and 
 spear ; let him give them to me instantly, and I will re- 
 turn home with my warriors. If not, I will kill the men 
 of the Cormorants, carry away all the women, and set 
 fire to the city.” 
 
 Lightfoot, and Hurricane himself, tried to make the 
 chief of the Wolves withdraw his insolent claim, but 
 they were not heard. 
 
 Sea- Eagle had made an angry bound. His face was 
 wrinkled like a lion’s. 
 
 “ My bronze weapons, Gnarled Oak !” he cried ; “ you 
 want them ? Here they are.” 
 
 And he tried to deal a violent blow at Gnarled Oak 
 with his axe. But the latter was on his guard, and in 
 spite of his weakness avoided the weapon that whizzed 
 vainly through the air. Then drawing back a few 
 paces, he hurled at Sea-Eagle, just as the latter was 
 13 K 
 
146 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 regaining his balance, a javelin that sunk deep into 
 the old chief’s breast. 
 
 “ Take this stone weapon in exchange,” he said in a 
 sneering tone. 
 
 The unfortunate Sea-Eagle shook his arms, rolled 
 his expressionless eyes vacantly, and fell heavily on the 
 ground. 
 
 We know that hostilities had been interrupted dur- 
 ing the conference between the chiefs. The Wolves 
 were grouped behind Gnarled Oak, while the Cor- 
 morants stood ready to support Sea-Eagle. The wo- 
 men and children, hoping that peace would be made, 
 had ceased to flock toward the Lacustrian city, and 
 were watching the progress of events with curious 
 eyes. 
 
 Sea-Eagle’s murder excited a terrible tumult ; the 
 warriors of both tribes furiously attacked each other. 
 Lightfoot and Hurricane, although they had desired, 
 from different motives, to avoid the struggle, did not 
 hesitate to throw themselves into the midst of the fray. 
 In an instant the battle was raging in every direction 
 with inconceivable fury. 
 
 Gnarled Oak, seeing his adversary fall, had rushed 
 upon him to snatch the axe and spear, the objects of 
 his greed. As he seized them, waving them in triumph 
 above his head, the Cormorants tried to wrest them 
 from him. Thus the battle centred around the chief 
 of the Wolves, and the two parties crowded together 
 at the feet of poor Sea-Eagle, now a corpse. 
 
 One can easily imagine the scene of horror and car- 
 nage which the neighborhood of the Lacustrian city 
 now presented. In the faint twilight the terrified pop- 
 
THE BATTLE . 
 
 147 
 
 ulation rushed aimlessly to and fro, while the men tried 
 to repel the assailants. The cries of pain, shrieks of 
 terror, shouts of menace or victory formed a tremen- 
 dous roar that echoed far over the waters of the lake 
 and into the depths of the forest. 
 
 The Cormorants, whom the enemy decimated with 
 arrows from a distance, were too ill prepared for the 
 struggle to long endure this furious attack. They soon 
 yielded, and retired toward the bridge, leaving the 
 ground covered with the dead and wounded. The de- 
 sire to help their wives and children, whose cries of 
 distress they heard behind them, also contributed to 
 diminish the coolness they needed in this terrible 
 moment. 
 
 Light- Foot fought in the front rank, and several 
 Wolves had already furnished him an opportunity to 
 prove the superiority of his weapons. He slowly re- 
 treated, always keeping his face to the foe. His one idea 
 was to meet Gnarled Oak and snatch the spoils wrested 
 from the old chief. While vainly seeking for him he 
 perceived Hurricane, and, wishing to punish the treach- 
 ery of this man, the instigator of the war, advanced 
 toward him. 
 
 Suddenly, Sea-Eagle's two daughters, still clad in the 
 white draperies they had donned for the banquet, ap- 
 peared in the midst of the battle. They had just heard 
 of their father’s death, and were rushing to put them- 
 selves under Lightfoot’s protection. Strawberry-Blos- 
 som’s cheeks were wet with tears, but Water-Chest- 
 nut, with dry eyes and compressed lips, brandished 
 a bloody club she had just picked up on the battle- 
 field. 
 
148 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 “ Sea-Eagle must be avenged,” she said to her broth- 
 er-in-law. 
 
 Turning away, she found herself face to face with 
 Hurricane, who was preparing to answer Light-Foot’s 
 challenge. 
 
 The beautiful girl was neither surprised nor alarmed. 
 On the contrary, her countenance expressed fierce de- 
 light. 
 
 “ I loved you and wished to become your wife,” she 
 cried ; “ you have killed my father. There !” She raised 
 the club and dealt her former lover so terrible a blow 
 that he sank motionless at her feet. 
 
 It was not rare at this period for women to take part 
 in battle, but in that case they had neither favor nor 
 generosity to expect from the combatants. Thus, no 
 warrior of the tribe of Wolves hesitated to attack 
 Water-Chestnut, in spite of her youth and beauty and 
 the circumstances that rendered her action so natural. 
 Shouting fiercely, they rushed upon her, and would 
 have killed her if Light-Foot, aided by a party of 
 young warriors, had not forced them to retire. He 
 took advantage of a favorable moment to draw the 
 two sisters out of the conflict. 
 
 Water-Chestnut made no resistance. After Hurri- 
 cane’s fall her warlike fury had vanished, and the club 
 dropped from her hand. Light-Foot wanted to accom- 
 pany Sea-Eagle’s daughters to the city, and then return 
 to the battle to help the people of his tribe repel the 
 Wolves. They reached the bridge, already crowded with 
 fugitives, and having succeeded, not without difficulty, 
 in crossing it, entered the hut, where the two sisters sank 
 down exhausted. 
 
THE BATTLE . 
 
 I49 
 
 Light-Foot took a bow and prepared to go out again, 
 but Strawberry-Blossom hung around his neck and said, 
 sobbing, 
 
 “ Stay, stay, I beseech you ! They have killed my 
 father; they will kill you too.” 
 
 “ Return to the field,” said Water-Chestnut ; “ the man 
 I struck down was not the most guilty. Avenge him, 
 avenge us, by killing Gnarled Oak ! Gnarled Oak has 
 done everything.” 
 
 Light-Foot was trying to disengage himself from the 
 embraces of his young wife, when a fresh tumult at- 
 tracted his attention. 
 
 As we have stated, the Cormorants, to protect their 
 property and the shelter of their families, had crowded 
 before the bridge and defended it with the energy of 
 despair. Gnarled Oak and his warriors, irritated by 
 this resistance, hit upon a cruel expedient well worthy of 
 those barbarous times. They took from the fires, which 
 still blazed here and there, several burning brands and 
 threw them into the Lacustrian city. 
 
 It will be remembered that the first houses were only 
 forty or fifty paces from the shore — that they were built 
 principally of boughs, and all the roofs were thatched. 
 It had been very dry for some time, and roofs and 
 boughs burst into flame as soon as they found them- 
 selves in contact with the burning brands. To cap the 
 climax, a strong wind was blowing and fanned the 
 conflagration. 
 
 In those days there was no remedy for such accidents. 
 The Lacustrian tribes had too small a quantity of vessels 
 to be able to bring water enough to extinguish the flames. 
 If the warriors of the Cormorants had been at liberty, 
 13 * 
 
ISO THE PR E-HI S T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 perhaps by tearing down the huts where the fire first 
 appeared they might have succeeded in checking the 
 conflagration ; but they were obliged to fight to prevent 
 the enemy from gaining their last retreat, and the fire 
 developed without impediment. In a very few moments 
 it had attained alarming proportions. 
 
 The poor people who had already reached the city ran 
 to and fro on the platform, while the huts took fire suc- 
 cessively like torches; several of the unfortunate crea- 
 tures fell into the lake, where they perished. On the 
 shore the terrified throng were flying in every direction. 
 Utterly disheartened, the defenders of the bridge began 
 to give way, and the conquerors were already uttering 
 shouts of victory. Everywhere frantic excitement pre- 
 vailed, everywhere were dead, wounded, and dying, and 
 the conflagration, increasing every moment, illuminated 
 the horizon with its crimson glare. 
 
 Light- Foot quickly perceived that resistance was use- 
 less ; nothing remained except to save his companions 
 from the consequences of the disaster. The flames were 
 already sweeping above their heads and catching at Sea- 
 Eagle’s hut ; they would soon be in the midst of a vast 
 brasier. Light-Foot, with the prompt decision and in 
 the curt tone required by the circumstances, said, 
 
 “ There is a boat at the foot of the little staircase. 
 Strawberry-Blossom, take an oar ; Water-Chestnut will 
 carry the other, for I must have both hands free to 
 defend you. Quick ! quick ! let us go.” 
 
 The two young girls mechanically obeyed ; each 
 seized an oar and followed Light-Foot. 
 
 At first they were almost suffocated by the whirling 
 clouds of smoke. But the hunter did not lose his 
 
THE BATTLE. 
 
 151 
 
 presence of mind, and they reached the staircase lead- 
 ing to the lake without accident. Here there was a 
 boat made of a log, which several fugitives were already 
 trying to enter. Light-Foot, with the selfishness roused 
 by the consciousness of danger, drove them away; the* 
 pirogue was scarcely large enough to hold his com- 
 panions and himself. 
 
 All three took their places in it ; Strawberry-Blossom 
 and Water-Chestnut, long accustomed to the exercise, 
 handled the oars skilfully, and the boat moved swiftly 
 away. 
 
 Many other pirogues had taken the same direction; 
 loaded with as many persons as they could hold, they 
 moved heavily over the surface of the water, where the 
 fire was reflected in long luminous tracks. 
 
 While passing the piles on which the Lacustrian city 
 was built, Light-Foot perceived Gnarled Oak’s warriors, 
 who, after having dispersed the last defenders of the 
 tribe of Cormorants, were pursuing them along the 
 shore. He bent forward, and while the young girls 
 continued to row, carefully fitted an arrow to his bow. 
 
 The weapon was discharged; the loud tumult that 
 arose on the shore proved that some noted warrior had 
 been wounded. Light -Foot leaned forward again, 
 shading his eyes with his hand, and said in a tone of 
 triumph, 
 
 “ Water-Chestnut killed Hurricane; I have just slain 
 the chief of the Wolves. Sea-Eagle’s death is avenged.” 
 
 “ What !” cried Water-Chestnut, dropping her oar. 
 
 “ It was Gnarled Oak ?” 
 
 “ Look !” 
 
 The glare of the conflagration revealed the most 
 
 13 * 
 
152 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 minute details of the conflict, and they could distinctly 
 see some of the Wolves carefully raising one of their 
 number, whose breast was pierced by an arrow. By 
 his features, as well as certain peculiarities of dress, 
 they recognized Gnarled Oak. Water-Chestnut clapped 
 her hands. 
 
 “ Good ! good !” she said ; “ Light-Foot is skilful. 
 The dead will be content. But why, in my anger, did 
 I hasten—" 
 
 She interrupted herself and remained motionless, her 
 eyes fixed on a point on the shore, as if something sin- 
 gular had attracted her attention. At last she pointed 
 with her finger to a group of warriors who were moving 
 toward the senseless chief. 
 
 “ There ! there !" she continued ; “ don't I see — " 
 
 She could say no more ; Light-Foot hastily pushed 
 her back. 
 
 “ Down! down!" he murmured, “ or you'll be killed." 
 And he threw himself into the bottom of the boat. 
 
 The warning was timely. The Wolves saw whence 
 the shaft which had just struck their chief had come, 
 and a shower of arrows whizzed above the boat. 
 
 Light-Foot did not wait for another discharge ; seiz- 
 ing the oars, he made the pirogue skim over the sur- 
 face of the water with wonderful velocity. Water- 
 Chestnut did not cease to gaze boldly at the shore, as 
 if trying to clear up some doubt that beset her. But 
 the direction of the boat had been changed, and a cur- 
 tain of flames again spread before her. 
 
 When in the middle of the lake Light-Foot stopped 
 to take breath. Water- Chestnut was absorbed in 
 thought ; Strawberry-Blossom asked, 
 
THE BATTLE . 
 
 153 
 
 “ Where are you taking us ?” 
 
 “ To the Lacustrian city of the Beavers. They have 
 long been allies of the Cormorants, and several of their 
 warriors were killed to-day with ours in defending our 
 homes. Our quarrel is theirs. With them we shall 
 find a refuge, perhaps assistance against the Wolves.” 
 
VI. 
 
 THE ELECTION. 
 
 HE following evening a man was seated before the 
 
 JL fireplace in a hut in the terrestrial station of the 
 Wolves. The whole tribe seemed to be in mourning; 
 ever and anon wails and lamentations, which echoed 
 mournfully amid the silence of the night, were heard 
 without. 
 
 The man of whom we speak was resting his head on 
 his hands. He seemed to be severely wounded, and a 
 handful of healing herbs was bound upon his brow by a 
 bandage made of the skin of some wild animal. But it 
 was not the wound that caused his despondency, and he 
 gave way to the saddest thoughts. 
 
 The reader has already guessed that this man was 
 Hurricane, Water-Chestnut’s former lover. Strong as 
 the young girl might be, the blow she had dealt did not 
 produce death, and the stone axe glanced from Hurri- 
 cane’s hard skull. He fell, stunned by the shock, but 
 rose soon after Water-Chestnut’s departure, and it was 
 really he whom she had seen from the boat at the mo- 
 ment Gnarled Oak was struck by the arrow. On re- 
 turning to the tribe Holly-Branch had bandaged his 
 
 154 
 
THE ELECTION. 
 
 iS5 
 
 wound, which it was believed would have no dangerous 
 result. 
 
 He had been absorbed in his meditations a long time 
 when the priestess appeared, still bearing her mysterious 
 crescent. She threw some dry branches on the fire to 
 rekindle it ; then, when a bright flame lighted the interior 
 of the hut, removed the dressing from the wound, re- 
 placed it by a new one, also composed of bruised herbs, 
 and carefully fastened the leather bandage. 
 
 Hurricane had mechanically submitted to these atten- 
 tions, almost without noticing them. The task over, the 
 old woman sat down beside him. 
 
 “ Your wound is nothing,” said she ; “one would sup- 
 pose it had been made by the paw of a wild cat. You 
 can go and come as you like. There's no doubt about 
 the cure." 
 
 Hurricane did not answer. 
 
 Holly-Branch continued : “ The matrons of the tribe 
 and I have washed Gnarled Oak’s body, and are going 
 to carry it to the dolmen. The articles that belonged 
 to him will be placed beside him, according to custom, 
 especially the bronze axe and spear he wrested from 
 Sea-Eagle. The whole tribe will be present at the 
 ceremony ; won’t you come too ?’’ 
 
 Hurricane rose with difficulty. 
 
 “ Gnarled Oak was my friend,’’ he said absently ; “ he 
 was the chief of the Wolves. I will accompany him to 
 the dolmen, and his shade will not come to torment me 
 during the hours of darkness.’’ 
 
 “ That’s right. A huge auroch has been killed for 
 the funeral feast. After the banquet the men will 
 assemble and choose a new chief.’’ 
 
156 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 Perhaps Holly-Branch had expected to produce a 
 marked impression upon her hearer by telling him this 
 news, but Hurricane remained impassive, and seemed to 
 have relapsed into his reverie. 
 
 She added : “ All the warriors of the tribe have 
 confidence in me. They are aware that I know won- 
 drous secrets, and have cured them many a time, as 
 well as Gnarled Oak, of wounds and sickness. So they 
 will choose the man I point out for the chief.” 
 
 Hurricane still remained silent. 
 
 “ This chief,” continued the priestess, “ must be brave 
 and wise, for the Cormorants, they say, have joined the 
 Beavers to make war upon us. He will put himself at 
 the head of the Wolves to avenge the death of Gnarled 
 Oak, punish the girl who wounded you, and gain pos- 
 session of the bronze articles our enemies still possess.” 
 
 This time Hurricane started up with the impetuosity 
 that had given him his name.’ “ Isn’t Gnarled Oak's 
 death avenged by Sea-Eagle’s ?” he cried. “ If the 
 Cormorants have killed some of our warriors, have we 
 not slain a large number of their people and burned 
 their city? Of what consequence are these bronze 
 articles? They, bring misfortune to all who touch 
 them. What do we want of them, when our stone 
 weapons are enough for our needs ? As to Water- 
 Chestnut, she was right to try to kill me, since she 
 believed I had killed her father; and I sometimes 
 regret,” he added gloomily, “that she did not suc- 
 ceed.” 
 
 The priestess uttered a little laugh that ended in a 
 cough. 
 
 “You still love the black-eyed girl?” she said. 
 
THE ELECTION. 
 
 IS 7 
 
 Hurricane made no answer. 
 
 “ Listen to me,” continued Holly-Branch in a con- 
 fidential tone. “ I like you — first, because you have 
 always been kind and respectful to me; secondly, be- 
 cause I lost a beloved son, who would now have been 
 your age, and whom I imagine I see again in you. Do 
 you wish to be the chief of the tribe of Wolves ? Thanks 
 to my influence, the choice of the council will fall upon 
 you.” 
 
 Hurricane’s eyes flashed with sudden fire, as if the 
 prospect of the first rank in the tribe had roused his 
 ambition, but the light instantly vanished. 
 
 “ I don’t wish it,” he answered. 
 
 Holly-Branch showed great surprise. 
 
 “What! you refuse to be chief?” she cried. “Con- 
 sider that you will be able to crush the Cormorants and 
 Beavers, kill Light-Foot, and bear away to your hut the 
 woman you love.” 
 
 “ Light-Foot is a good man,” said Hurricane abruptly; 
 “he wanted to give up his bronze axe to induce Sea- 
 Eagle to grant me his daughter ; my hand shall not be 
 raised against him. As for Water-Chestnut, brave, beau- 
 tiful girl ! she never seemed to me so desirable as at the 
 moment she tried to deal me a mortal wound. I don’t 
 wish to use force against her ; it would be more agree- 
 able to soften her anger by submission and kind words.” 
 
 The priestess’s astonishment was changed to bewilder- 
 ment. As we see, the human race was approaching that 
 period when certain elevated feelings were beginning to 
 be evolved from the ruder instincts of the primitive race. 
 Mankind was ripe for the civilization that was about to 
 be slowly developed by the discovery and use of metals. 
 
158 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 Hurricane reflected, perhaps unconsciously to himself, the 
 generosity of which Light-Foot, whether because he nat- 
 urally possessed a germ of it or had gained it by inter- 
 course with others, had given an example. Thus, an in- 
 dividual quality was to become the trait of a whole tribe. 
 
 But Holly-Branch, in spite of her superior intelligence, 
 belonged to the past, and knew nothing of the new ideas 
 and strange motives which influenced the acts of the 
 present generation. 
 
 She therefore could not explain the feeling of delicacy, 
 ill-defined at best, which prevented the young hunter 
 from fighting with Light-Foot and gaining Water-Chest- 
 nut by violence. She was about to make a fresh attempt 
 to conquer his obstinacy, when the lamentations outside 
 redoubled and continued without cessation. 
 
 The priestess took up her crescent again. 
 
 “ Gnarled Oak’s funeral procession is beginning to 
 move,” she said ; “ I must accompany it to see that the 
 body is properly placed and the funeral rites carefully 
 performed. Come with me, Hurricane.” 
 
 “ I am ready.” 
 
 He rose, took his weapons, and both left the hut. 
 
 The funeral train was indeed just commencing its 
 march, and the entire population accompanied it to the 
 tumulus-dolmen we have already seen in the midst of 
 the forest. First came several young men, holding 
 torches of resinous wood to light the way for the pro- 
 cession ; then the body, dressed in its usual clothes 
 and borne by warriors on a litter of branches ; men, 
 women, and children followed, carrying the dead chief’s 
 arms or various articles intended for funeral offerings-. 
 The women uttered shrill cries, tore their hair, and beat 
 
THE ELECTION. 
 
 159 
 
 their breasts with great demonstrations of despair. 
 When the procession had passed the bridge leading 
 to the city and entered the wood, the long line of 
 torches, moving shadows, and wild cries formed a most 
 gloomy spectacle. 
 
 Hurricane and the priestess of the tribe had gone to 
 the head of the train, and the symbol borne by Holly- 
 Branch aroused a reverence mingled with awe. As we 
 have said, the religion of these pre-historic times, of 
 which we possess only vague indications, consisted, 
 according to all appearances, of gross superstitions. It 
 is suspected that the inhabitants of the Lacustrian 
 cities worshipped the sun, the moon, perhaps even fire, 
 judging from the prominent part fire seems to have 
 played in their ceremonies. But the worship of the 
 dead was undoubtedly of extreme importance to them, 
 and this worship equalled, if it did not surpass, that 
 offered to one or several unknown divinities. 
 
 Thus, the solemnity with which Gnarled Oak’s funeral 
 rites were performed will cause no surprise. Only a 
 few sick people and several who had been wounded in 
 the battle the day before remained in the huts ; all the 
 population who were in health formed a part of the long 
 procession that wound over the plain, rousing the echoes 
 with mournful wails. 
 
 They reached the spot where the tumulus-dolmen 
 rose; the torch-bearers formed a picturesque group, 
 some on the green slope of the artificial mound, others 
 in the narrow opening at whose end was the burial- 
 vault. Part of the inhabitants of the city had preceded 
 the throng, and fires burning here and there were in- 
 tended to prepare the funeral feast. 
 
i6o 
 
 THE PR E-HI S T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 The ceremonies that took place on this occasion 
 recalled in all essential particulars those in use in the 
 Age of Hewn Stone. After an immense quantity of 
 provisions had been consumed by the voracious mul- 
 titude, the body was placed at the bottom of the dol- 
 men in the squatting posture in which we find all the 
 skeletons of that period. The greatest delicacies of the 
 banquet, together with earthen vessels or horns filled 
 with water, were put beside it ; then each individual 
 brought his offering to the dead — bows and arrows, 
 flint knives and axes, bracelets and necklaces, utensils 
 of bone or stags’ antlers. The bronze axe and spear 
 Gnarled Oak had possessed a moment, and which had 
 cost him so dear, were not forgotten. Thanks to the 
 reverence felt for the dead, the precious weapons would 
 be safer rn this tomb, closed by a rock, than in a fortress 
 guarded by numerous warriors. 
 
 The burial being completed, the dead man was called 
 three times by name, and the stone replaced before the 
 entrance of the tumulus, while the mourning women 
 uttered a last outburst of wails and groans. Finally the 
 cries ceased, and the principal personages of the tribe 
 seated themselves around the fire to choose a new chief. 
 There was no necessity for secrecy in these deliberations, 
 which interested the whole population ; so the throng 
 eagerly assembled behind the prominent men who were 
 to make the election. Deep silence replaced the tumult; 
 the torches, placed on the slope of the mound between 
 the stones or on trunks of trees, illuminated in a weird 
 but picturesque fashion the groups scattered over the 
 clearing. 
 
 Holly-Branch, crescent in hand, appeared very busy, 
 
THE ELECTION, 
 
 161 
 
 and went from one member of the council to another, 
 whispering a few words in a low tone. She thus ap- 
 proached Hurricane, who was seated in the second row, 
 a little apart from the rest. 
 
 “ Do you want to be chief?” she asked. 
 
 “ No, woman,” replied the hunter impatiently. “ I 
 will not fight against Water-Chestnut’s tribe.” 
 
 At that moment a loud tumult arose on the edge of 
 the woods. A young man had just been discovered in 
 a neighboring thicket — a young man who seemed to be 
 hiding, and under cover of the darkness trying to mingle 
 in the throng. . He was recognized as a member of the 
 tribe of Cormorants, and on account of the enmity now 
 existing between the Wolves and Cormorants it could 
 not be doubted that he had evil designs. The crowd 
 therefore rushed upon him, and the poor fellow, who 
 was no other than Greedy Pike, was dragged forward, 
 beaten and hooted at, toward the main body of the 
 tribe. 
 
 Stupefied and bewildered, he did not utter a word. 
 The fact of spying being proved, it was proposed to kill 
 him without any form of trial. But an old man sug- 
 gested that they should first choose a chief, who would 
 undertake the office of questioning the spy and deciding 
 his fate. This proposal won general approval ; the tu- 
 mult soon subsided, and while Greedy Pike was guarded 
 by two men belonging to the tribe, the others proceeded 
 with the business of the election. 
 
 Hurricane had lost no detail of the scene. He was 
 well acquainted with the prisoner, who while being 
 hustled to and fro had cast a beseeching glance at him. 
 Approaching Holly-Branch, who was continuing her 
 14 * L 
 
THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 162 
 
 intrigues in the assembly, he said to her in an under- 
 tone, 
 
 “ Mother, I accept. Make me chief, and you shall 
 not regret it.” 
 
 The election took place without any long speeches, 
 in the simplest manner possible. The electors voted 
 aloud, and each person could count the suffrages. 
 Holly-Branch had manoeuvred so well that Hurricane 
 was almost unanimously chosen. There was no cere- 
 mony of investiture ; the oldest member of the council 
 said, “ Be our chief that was all. Hurricane, on his 
 part, had no occasion to make a speech of thanks and 
 explain his politics. He answered quietly, “Very 
 well and the council was broken up. Hurricane was 
 the lawful chief of the tribe of Wolves. 
 
 When the business of his election was over he rose. 
 
 “ The people of the tribe can return to the village,” 
 said he ; “I am going to question the spy.” 
 
 Though the authority of a chief of the tribe was 
 far from being absolute, the majority of those present 
 obeyed, and followed, in a long file, the path leading to 
 the wood. Hurricane had remained standing near the 
 fire, from which still exhaled an odor of fat and burned 
 bones, and ordered the prisoner to be brought before 
 him. 
 
 Holly-Branch said insinuatingly, “ Chief, will you not 
 permit me to assist you ? I have experience ; I will un- 
 ravel the lies and artifices our enemies use. You are 
 strong and brave, but young and easy to deceive.” 
 
 “ Greedy Pike,” answered the new chief dryly, “ is 
 younger and more easy to deceive than I. Go away, 
 woman ; I shall act according to my own will.” 
 
THE ELECTION. 
 
 163 
 
 The priestess looked at him with mingled anger and 
 astonishment. After having exerted so much influence 
 over Gnarled Oak, perhaps she had hoped to exercise 
 a still greater one over a younger chief who owed his 
 elevation to her ; and now, at the very first moment, he 
 showed an independence which boded ill for the future. 
 
 But Holly-Branch dared not insist, and moving a little 
 aside began to whisper to the warriors who had been 
 ordered to watch Greedy Pike. 
 
 We have not forgotten that the prisoner was one of 
 the “ young men ” whom the chiefs of tribes retained 
 near their own persons and employed in certain public 
 services or for the common defence. He had performed 
 such duties in the Lacustrian city, and it was not with- 
 out cause that Hurricane believed himself his superior 
 in intelligence, for Greedy Pike, though devoted to 
 Sea-Eagle and his family, was considered very dull. 
 
 “ Greedy Pike,” he asked sternly, “ what are you 
 doing here? I am now chief of the Wolves. You 
 have evil designs against us.” 
 
 Greedy Pike stammered volubly a few unintelligible 
 words that might have been protestations of innocence. 
 
 “ Answer me,” interrupted Hurricane rudely; “ didn’t 
 you hide yourself to find out what was being said and 
 done in my tribe ?” 
 
 “ No,” replied Greedy Pike. 
 
 “ Then what do you want, and who sent you ?” 
 
 “ I— I can't tell.” 
 
 Hurricane seized the axe that hung at his belt and 
 raised it over the head of the unfortunate prisoner 
 who murmured in terror, 
 
 “ No, no, don’t kill me !” 
 
164 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 “ Who sent you ?” 
 
 Greedy Pike racked his brain for some plausible 
 ihlsehood ; finding none, he decided to tell the truth : 
 “ Water-Chestnut, Sea-Eagle’s daughter.” 
 
 Hurricane, in his turn, showed deep emotion and 
 lowered his axe. 
 
 “ Water-Chestnut !” he repeated; “what message did 
 she give you for me?” 
 
 “ None. Listen ! Over yonder, among the Beavers, 
 some people said she had killed you, others that you 
 were alive. She did not know, and was very anxious 
 to find out. This evening, as I was getting into White 
 Cloud’s pirogue, she came to me and said, ‘ Greedy 
 Pike, when night begins to fall, glide, without letting 
 any one see you, to the city of the Wolves; learn 
 whether Hurricane is alive or dead; then come and 
 tell me.* I always obey Water-Chestnut, and set out. 
 I was trying to get into the city of the Wolves when 
 the whole tribe came this way. I followed Gnarled 
 Oak’s funeral procession at a distance, and crouched 
 under a bush to try to find you, but was discovered.” 
 The artless story bore the stamp of truth. 
 
 “So,” said Hurricane joyously, “Sea-Eagle’s daugh- 
 ter is anxious about me ? Perhaps she regrets that she 
 wounded me.” 
 
 Greedy Pike was not able to answer this question, 
 which, moreover, was not addressed to him. Hurri- 
 cane abruptly continued: 
 
 “What is going on in the city of the Beavers?” 
 The would-be spy did not seem to suspect that he 
 was being asked to reveal the secrets of his own tribe, 
 and answered with his usual frankness : 
 
THE ELECTION. 
 
 165 
 
 “ Light-Foot has been chosen chief of the Cormo- 
 rants in the place of Sea-Eagle, and formed an alliance 
 with White Cloud, the chief of the Beavers. Both are 
 preparing to attack the Wolves and burn their city, as 
 the Wolves burned the city of the Cormorants.” 
 
 “ Very well ; you are at liberty to go, but on condition 
 that you will take a message to Water-Chestnut.” 
 
 “ What is it?” 
 
 Hurricane gave him certain instructions, which he 
 made him repeat several times, to be sure that he'would 
 not forget them ; then both rose. The chief's young 
 companions and Holly-Branch, perceiving that the in- 
 terview was over, thought the time to massacre the spy 
 had come, and rushed toward him. Hurricane stopped 
 them by a gesture of command. 
 
 “ Let him go,” said he ; “I know all that is necessary 
 to know.” 
 
 Greedy Pike did not wait for more, but running at full 
 speed quickly vanished in the forest. 
 
 The “ young men ” had obeyed the order given with- 
 out reflection, but Holly-Branch looked at Hurricane 
 suspiciously and muttered, 
 
 “ A beautiful girl may confuse a young chief's mind, 
 but if he betrays the Wolves, woe betide him !” 
 
VII. 
 
 THE CITY OF THE BEAVERS. 
 
 % * 
 
 L ET us first relate what befell Greedy Pike. 
 
 Water-Chestnut’s unlucky messenger, after leav- 
 ing Hurricane, rushed into the forest, very well pleased 
 to escape a death he had believed certain. There was 
 no chivalric feeling at this period, and if there had been, 
 Greedy Pike would have been incapable of experiencing 
 it. So he did not blush to run at full speed through the 
 darkness, forcing his way through the thorny bushes to 
 the detriment of his half-naked body, dashing over the 
 quagmires, solely occupied in putting the greatest pos- 
 sible distance between himself and his enemies. 
 
 He soon ceased to hear the dull noise made by the 
 people of the tribe on their way back to the village, and, 
 completely reassured, stopped to take breath and look 
 around him. Unfortunately, in his rapid flight he had 
 retraced his steps several times to avoid impassable ob- 
 stacles, and thus left the winding path that served as a 
 communication between inhabited places. In broad day- 
 light he would not have failed to distinguish a thousand 
 landmarks that would have enabled him to direct his 
 course with certainty; but at this hour of the night, 
 under the dense screen of foliage, it was becoming veiy 
 166 
 
THE CITY OF THE BEAVERS. 1 67 
 
 difficult to discover his way. After reflecting a short 
 time, the young man, guided by his keen senses and 
 the instinct peculiar to the savage, chose a direction 
 in which he expected to find the lake, and marched 
 resolutely forward. 
 
 He moved on thus for several minutes, and continued 
 to think himself in the right way, when certain incidents 
 attracted his attention. Sinister howls echoed on the 
 right and left before and behind him, while there was a 
 constant rustling in the underbrush, and here and there 
 shining eyes glittered amid the brakes. 
 
 The wild animals, we repeat, were neither so nume- 
 rous nor so terrible as in the anterior period. The 
 cave-lions, mammoths, cave-bears, and hyenas had 
 vanished from the surface of the earth. The bear, 
 which was still very common, did not differ from our 
 ordinary brown bear. The wolves, however, were very 
 numerous in the forests, and at night formed, as before, 
 large packs that might endanger the solitary hunter or 
 traveller. 
 
 Greedy Pike therefore could not deceive himself as to 
 the nature and significance of these sounds. His other 
 weapons having been taken from him by Hurricane’s 
 warriors, he had nothing with which to defend himself 
 except a flint knife concealed in his belt. Yet he was 
 not alarmed ; he thought that if the wild beasts pressed 
 him more closely he could climb a tree to wait for the 
 dawn, at the risk of delaying his message, which, how- 
 ever, was of the most urgent nature. 
 
 So he continued to advance fearlessly in the direction 
 where the Lacustrian city of the Beavers ought to be. 
 The pack with the fiery eyes grew bolder. It might 
 
1 68 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 even be supposed that some special motive attracted 
 these cowardly animals to this portion of the forest, for 
 far in advance, at a point where the young man’s pres- 
 ence could not yet have been known, a concert of howls 
 betrayed the existence of a band perhaps still more nu- 
 merous than the one at his heels. 
 
 Besides, there was no token that he was approaching 
 the border of the forest. Panting violently, he again 
 paused to take breath, and was so closely pressed that 
 several of his terrible enemies, carried away by their 
 eagerness, grazed his naked limbs. To keep them at a 
 distance he uttered one of the shrill cries which it is 
 said startle the most formidable animals, and then tried 
 to reflect upon his situation. 
 
 It was not a cheerful one. The wolves now formed a 
 circle of which he occupied the centre ; the eyes that 
 still glittered in the darkness, the impatient howls, 
 showed the necessity of speedily forming some resolu- 
 tion. So Greedy Pike was returning to his first idea, 
 of seeking refuge in a tree, when his sense of smell, 
 keen as that of a modern red-skin, revealed something 
 that would have escaped the organs of a civilized 
 man. 
 
 “I smell water and smoke,” he murmured; “Pm not 
 far from the lake and the city of the Beavers.” 
 
 This certainty restored his strength and courage; 
 after again uttering sharp cries to drive away the 
 wolves, he resumed his walk, guided by the odor of 
 marsh-lands and smoke, which became more and more 
 distinct. 
 
 His efforts were soon rewarded. He at last reached 
 the borders of the forest, and suddenly emerged into a 
 
THE CITY OF THE BEAVERS. 1 69 
 
 plain, beyond which the lake glittered like a silver 
 mirror in the serene light of the stars. 
 
 But at the first glance Greedy Pike perceived that he 
 had missed his way. It was really the lake so familiar 
 to his eyes that stretched before him ; only, instead of 
 reaching the city of the Beavers, he found himself at 
 the city of the Cormorants, or rather at the spot where 
 it had been. He could not doubt it, for although the 
 houses in this village, so thriving a short time ago, had 
 completely disappeared, the ruins of the platform and 
 piles which emerged from the water were still smoking. 
 It was from them that the smoke pervading the atmo- 
 sphere for so great a distance exhaled. 
 
 Hearts were not tender at this period of humanity, 
 and gentle feelings had little ascendency over this bar- 
 barous generation. Yet when Greedy Pike cast his 
 eyes upon the portion of the lake where he was accus- 
 tomed to see the dwellings of his forefathers, the hut 
 where he himself had been born, and now beheld only 
 smoking piles, against which the waves were lapping, 
 he was terribly oppressed and on the point of bursting 
 into tears. 
 
 The plain presented a no less sorrowful spectacle. 
 The cultivated fields had been devastated, trampled 
 under foot ; the fences of the enclosures for cattle 
 beaten down ; flint axes had been tried on the fruit- 
 trees. The domestic animals had been slain, and their 
 bodies, left on the ground together with the corpses 
 of the warriors slain in battle, had attracted the throng 
 of wolves whose howls were heard in the distance, and 
 whose forms were dimly seen through the dusk. In 
 that remote period war meant extermination, pillage, 
 15 
 
i;0 THE PR E- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 robbery, and murder, and left behind only devastation 
 and ruin. 
 
 But this mournful spectacle could not long arrest 
 Greedy Pike’s attention. In consequence of his mis- 
 take he had a league to traverse to reach the city of 
 the Beavers on the other side of the lake, and he soon 
 resumed his walk along the shore. 
 
 As he advanced traces of the slaughter and devas- 
 tation became more and more visible. The ground 
 was heaped with bloody bones, over which the wild 
 beasts were wrangling. Greedy Pike, having picked up 
 a stick, used it to drive away the wolves. At first they 
 made way for him and left their banquet on the dead 
 bodies, though not without signs of ill-humor. But 
 every moment they appeared more bold and numerous ; 
 it was only by uttering loud shouts and shaking his 
 stick that the young man induced them to move out 
 of his path. Still, while he stood erect and faced them 
 he had no cause to fear a serious attack, and continued 
 his way, not without pausing from time to time to 
 watch those behind him. 
 
 He thus reached the spot where the battle had 
 taken place, opposite the almost consumed remains of 
 the bridge. Here the wolves formed a black moving 
 mass, from which rose constant howls. Greedy Pike 
 again shook his stick to force them to fly, but as they 
 retired very slowly and with evident reluctance, he 
 looked down to see the cause of this resistance. By 
 the light of the moon, which had just risen, he per- 
 ceived a human body, already nearly reduced to a 
 skeleton, and whose fragments of flesh were scattered in 
 a pool of blood. The corpse was unrecognizable, but 
 
THE CITY OF THE BEAVERS. 171 
 
 certain peculiarities of dress, and especially the thick 
 gray hair, left no room for doubt ; it was Sea-Eagle. 
 
 Greedy Pike could not behold this terrible sight with- 
 out deep sorrow. Forgetting his own situation, he bent 
 over the body and said mournfully, 
 
 “ Sea-Eagle ! Sea-Eagle !” 
 
 Having paid this tribute of grief to his former chief, 
 he attempted to rise and continue his way, but had no 
 time to do so. 
 
 A single loud howl was uttered at a short distance 
 like a signal, and an enormous wolf, springing upon 
 him from behind, tried to seize him by the neck. 
 Instantly all the others rushed forward, and Greedy 
 Pike disappeared under a pack of fierce, eager 
 beasts. 
 
 He was full of vigor, and the imminence of the dan- 
 ger quadrupled his strength. So, in spite of horrible 
 wounds, in spite of the enormous weight that crushed 
 him, he succeeded in rising, shouted, and shook his 
 stick in the air. But he was again overthrown, and 
 rolled with his tawny adversaries on the ground. 
 
 Twice he thus rose to his feet, dragging with him 
 a cluster of wolves, howling and biting like them, and 
 writhing with pain. At the third effort his strength 
 failed, his shouts imperceptibly died away, his move- 
 ments became mere palpitations, and the pack of hid- 
 eous quadrupeds at last covered him entirely like a 
 pall. At the end of a few minutes nothing was heard 
 save the cracking of bones mingled with howls of 
 triumph. 
 
 The Lacustrian city of the Beavers, which owed its 
 
172 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 name to the structure formerly built by beavers,* whose 
 place it had taken, was similar in every respect to that 
 of the Cormorants, which had just been destroyed by 
 the conflagration. Situated in a creek of the same 
 lake, it was also composed of several hundred huts 
 connected with the shore by a bridge. 
 
 It was in this city, as we know, that the remnant of 
 the tribe of Cormorants had found a refuge, and the 
 greatest bustle pervaded it the following morning. The 
 people were preparing for war. All the animals owned 
 by the tribe were removed from the pens, and while 
 some were concealed in the woods, others were brought 
 into the city. The huge, clumsy pirogues, hollowed by 
 means of fire, had been fastened to the piles of the plat- 
 form, out of the reach of the enemy. They had not re- 
 moved the bridge — a thing that could be done in a few 
 minutes — but a large party of the “ young men ” of the 
 tribe, bow in hand, guarded its entrance. Finally, active, 
 watchful children, placed as sentinels in the neighboring 
 woods, were ready to give the alarm in case of danger. 
 
 In the city itself warlike preparations were continued 
 with the same activity. Before the doors and within 
 the huts warriors were seen engaged in various occupa- 
 tions. Each individual at this remote period was his 
 own armorer. One, holding one of the large stones 
 called “ percuteurs,” was cutting sharp edges on a piece 
 of flint intended for his club or javelin. Another, bend- 
 ing over a basin-shaped stone, was polishing by rubbing 
 an axe that had been notched by use.f Still another 
 
 * The beaver was common throughout Europe in the Stone Age. 
 
 f One of these stones that served for polishers was found in i860 at 
 Varenne-Saint-Hilaire, near Paris, by Monsieur Leguay. 
 
THE CITY OF THE BEAVERS. 
 
 173 
 
 was changing the catgut string of his bow, or putting on 
 his arrows a point of bone or flint fastened by an ox’s 
 sinew dipped in bitumen. Finally, several were choos- 
 ing from among quantities of round polished stones 
 brought by the children those best suited to be hurled 
 from a sling. 
 
 While engaged in these occupations a man was 
 pointed out on the edge of the woods opposite to the 
 city. Instantly the defenders of the bridge and the 
 sentinels on the shore were on the alert ; lances were 
 seized, bows were bent, all eyes were fixed on the same 
 point. The man, having emerged from the trees, ad- 
 vanced upon the shore. 
 
 “ It’s Wild-Boar’s Tusk!” they cried. 
 
 The threatening demonstrations ceased, for a friend 
 had been recognized. 
 
 Wild-Boar’s Tusk was, in fact, a young man belonging 
 to the tribe of Beavers who had been sent that morning 
 to the terrestrial station. When he reached the entrance 
 of the bridge a crowd gathered around him to hear his 
 news. 
 
 “ What are the Wolves doing?” asked one. “Are 
 they coming to attack us?” 
 
 “ No,” answered Wild-Boar’s Tusk ; “they are attend- 
 ing to their usual occupations. I stayed a long time in 
 a tree from which I could see everything that was going 
 on in their village ; they did not seem to be thinking of 
 making an attack.” 
 
 “ And Greedy Pike ?” asked another ; “ what has 
 become of him ?” 
 
 “ I questioned a shepherd I met near the great dol- 
 men, and who did not know me, about him. He told 
 
 15 * 
 
*74 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 me that a young man belonging to the Cormorants had 
 been taken prisoner yesterday evening during Gnarled 
 Oak’s funeral, and doubtless killed by Hurricane, the 
 present chief of the tribe.” 
 
 Cries of grief hailed this report, which was somewhat 
 far from the truth, as we know, though Greedy Pike’s 
 death was a fact. But Wild-Boar’s Tusk did not think 
 it advisable to make any further reply to the questions 
 with which he was overwhelmed, but ran across the 
 bridge to report to the chiefs the result of his mis- 
 sion. 
 
 The dwelling of White Cloud, chief of the Beavers, 
 was composed of several huts built of branches, of a 
 round shape, and open at the top, differing in no respect 
 from the neighboring habitations. Within the space 
 they covered were several persons, toward whom Wild- 
 Boar’s Tusk advanced. 
 
 Here, besides several old men who played an im- 
 portant part in the council of the Beavers, were White 
 Cloud and his family ; Light-Foot, now chief of the 
 Cormorants; and lastly, Strawberry-Blossom and Water- 
 Chestnut, the dead chief’s daughters. White Cloud was 
 a man about forty years of age, with a sensual face, 
 who owed his name to his tow - colored hair and 
 beard. Though he had embraced the cause of his 
 neighbors, to whom he had extended hospitality, he 
 was not considered either generous or hospitable ; but 
 Light-Foot, perceiving the necessity of gaining allies 
 for the scanty remnant of his tribe, had offered the 
 chief of the Beavers his last bronze axe, and White 
 Cloud, greedy like all men of his stamp, had been pro- 
 fuse in the first moments of his delight in professions 
 
THE CITY OF THE EE A FEES 
 
 175 
 
 of friendship. By his side was his wife, a stout matron, 
 whose attention was occupied by three or four unruly 
 children, who were creeping around her, while the 
 youngest was still at the breast. Strawberry-Blossom 
 and Water -Chestnut were sewing with bone needles 
 garments of skin intended for their host, and such was 
 the simplicity of manners in those days that they 
 seemed in no wise humiliated by the nature of their 
 task. 
 
 Everybody, while working and talking, was nibbling 
 acorns, beechnuts, and hazelnuts contained in a basket 
 that stood in the centre of the circle ; for this glutton- 
 ous race could not spend two consecutive hours with- 
 out eating. 
 
 Wild-Boar’s Tusk told the chief and the assembly 
 that the Wolves seemed very quiet in their fortress, 
 and that Greedy Pike had been killed, it was supposed, 
 by Hurricane, Gnarled Oak’s successor. This murder 
 aroused fresh grief and anger. 
 
 “ You see, chief of the Beavers,” said Light-Foot 
 indignantly, “ peace with this wicked tribe is impos- 
 sible. Until now I had hoped — But Hurricane is 
 undoubtedly our mortal enemy.” 
 
 “ We’ll make war upon him,” replied White Cloud 
 with evident lukewarmness ; “ give the Beavers and 
 Cormorants time to prepare. We haven’t lances, arrows, 
 or javelins enough.” 
 
 Then he began to noisily munch an acorn. 
 
 Water-Chestnut had listened attentively to the spy’s 
 story. 
 
 “So,” she cried impetuously, “he is alive ! he is chief 
 of his tribe ! and he killed my father’s servant !” 
 
1/6 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 She sank into a dull reverie. 
 
 While the rest of the company were still discussing 
 the events which had last occurred a pirogue appeared 
 in the distance and approached the Lacustrian city. 
 It was soon easy to perceive that it was guided by two 
 men, who were rowing. At the bottom of the boat, 
 under an ox’s hide, was a large object whose nature 
 could not be distinguished, but a swarm of flies buzzed 
 around it. The pirogue glided over the water in the 
 dazzling sunlight, and came alongside of a wooden 
 staircase that served as a wharf to the city. 
 
 Its approach seemed to make a deep impression 
 upon the inhabitants, who followed it with looks of 
 mingled curiosity and sadness. It had been sent that 
 morning to the ruined city, and the people knew it 
 was bringing back the remains of those who had per- 
 ished in the conflict. 
 
 When it reached the foot of the steps every one rose 
 and approached that part of the platform; eager spec- 
 tators issued from every hut. Strawberry-Blossom, pale 
 and trembling, leaned on her husband’s shoulder; 
 Water-Chestnut, on the contrary, walked with a quick, 
 firm step. 
 
 The pirogue was saluted by a lamentable wail from 
 every one present. This was only a customary cere- 
 monial, a sign of mourning ; but when White Cloud, 
 either from curiosity or stupid brutality, drew aside 
 the ox-hide, a cry of horror, this time perfectly un- 
 feigned, escaped every mouth. 
 
 Before the eyes of the tribe was a pile of hideous, 
 bloody fragments that preserved no trace of the hu- 
 man form. The wild beasts had done their office ; 
 
THE CITY OF THE BEAVERS. 
 
 1 77 
 
 there were scarcely any scraps of flesh on the bones. 
 Limbs and heads were mingled together ; Sea-Eagle’s 
 remains could not have been distinguished from those 
 of Greedy Pike or any warrior slain in the battle. A 
 horrible odor exhaled from these half-putrefied bones, 
 and a million flies continued to buzz furiously around. 
 
 White Cloud, in spite of his hard heart, averted his 
 eyes from the horrible spectacle ; he was going to replace 
 the ox-hide and give orders to have the remains removed 
 to a cave in the neighborhood where the Beavers still 
 interred their dead, according to the ancient custom, 
 when Water-Chestnut advanced to the edge of the plat- 
 form, and with arms outstretched toward the pirogue, 
 cried in an inspired tone, 
 
 “ Men of the Beavers and Cormorants ! why do you 
 delay to avenge us ? Gnarled Oak, after having killed 
 my father and burned our city, was slain in his turn, and 
 has been borne to the dolmen with gifts from his friends 
 and provisions of every kind ; beside him are Sea-Eagle’s 
 bronze weapons. His soul exults; it will arrive, proud 
 and happy, in the unknown world. During this time the 
 bodies of Sea-Eagle and his friends have been torn and 
 scattered by wild beasts ; only a few horrible fragments 
 are left ; we cannot bury them according to the rites of 
 our forefathers, bringing them dainty meats and other 
 offerings. Their souls will not reach the mysterious re- 
 gions ; they will wander through the forests, on the lake, 
 and in the mists of the night, to terrify the living until 
 they are avenged. Why do you delay to avenge them ?” 
 
 We have said that the people of those primitive times 
 possessed little eloquence ; so they were only the more 
 easily impressed when any true and warm feeling mani- 
 
 M 
 
178 
 
 THE TEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 fested itself. Water-Chestnut's address before these 
 ghastly human remains, the allusion to certain religious 
 beliefs, and finally the young girl's beauty, her flashing 
 •eyes and imposing gesture, all contributed to move these 
 natures, which, though rude, were artless and quick to 
 feel. 
 
 A sort of electric thrill ran through the assembly, and 
 a warrior cried, 
 
 “ I'll go and fight the Wolves; I will avenge Sea-Eagle 
 and the Cormorants." 
 
 “ Yes, yes," shouted all with one voice, shaking their 
 weapons, “we must fight the Wolves, avenge Sea-Eagle." 
 
 The enthusiasm had seized upon even the old men. 
 White Cloud alone remained impassive, and it was evi- 
 dent that notwithstanding his professions he did not 
 wish to attack numerous and formidable neighbors in a 
 stranger’s quarrel. Light-Foot, knowing his reluctance, 
 took advantage of the opportunity to remind the chief 
 of the promises which the two tribes seemed so well 
 disposed to second. But the politic White Cloud shook 
 his head and answered evasively, 
 
 “There’s no hurry. Sea-Eagle and the Cormorants 
 shall be avenged ; we must have time to make a great 
 many arrows and lances. Who troubles himself about 
 a woman’s words?" 
 
 Perhaps the enthusiasm of the crowd would have died 
 away, but aid came from an unexpected quarter. 
 
 White Cloud’s wife, holding her infant in her arms, 
 had approached, like the others, to watch the arrival 
 of the pirogue. On hearing her husband express him- 
 self so scornfully in regard to her sex, she exclaimed 
 harshly, 
 
THE CITY OF THE BEAVERS. 
 
 179 
 
 “ The woman is the warrior's companion, but it is the 
 warrior’s duty to provide for the wants of the family. 
 We lack everything; there is never any stags’ or uri’s 
 flesh, marrow, or brains to make a feast. There are no 
 skins for the children to wear; no stags’ antlers and ox* 
 horns for household utensils. All these things can be 
 found in plenty among the Wolves, who are skilful 
 hunters.” 
 
 This feminine audacity seemed to excite some little 
 surprise, for it doubtless was not customary. But White 
 Cloud did not show the indignation that might have been 
 expected. 
 
 “Aha!” said he in the tone of a husband who has 
 long been accustomed to the plain speaking of his 
 better half, “ we want skins to wear, materials for 
 household untensils?” 
 
 “Yes, and the Wolves have them,” cried the mother; 
 “so kill them to the last man, pillage their city, and 
 bring me the spoil.” 
 
 Water-Chestnut, moved by different motives, con- 
 tinued energetically : 
 
 “Why do we delay to attack this odious tribe? The 
 moment is favorable ; they do not think, in their pride, 
 that we shall be bold enough to assail them. Their axes 
 are not sharpened ; their bridge is not guarded. Hurri- 
 cane, their new chief, is a coward who only knows how to 
 slay old men. Chiefs, and you, warriors, take your bows, 
 slings, and lances. Let us go ! let us go at once ! for 1 
 too will fight the wretched tribe that slew Sea-Eagle.” 
 
 She snatched a spear with a sharp point from the 
 hands of a “ young man ” who stood near her, and 
 brandished it above her head. 
 
i8o 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 The act roused the crowd to fierce excitement. 
 
 “ Sea-Eagle’s daughter is right,” they shouted; “we 
 will surprise the miserable tribe that destroyed the city 
 of the Cormorants — exterminate them, and bring back 
 auroch-meat, skins, ox-horns, and stags’ antlers.” 
 
 White Cloud still hesitated, but his wife said in a low 
 tone, with an impatient accent, a few words that decided 
 him. 
 
 “ Let us go, then,” he continued, “ since we need so 
 many things in the hut.” 
 
 And he prepared to set out. 
 
 Water-Chestnut and Strawberry-Blossom had remain- 
 ed on the edge of the platform, while the funeral pirogue 
 again glided over the water and turned toward the cave, 
 which was a short distance from the lake. Light-Foot 
 wished the two sisters to return to the chief’s hut, and 
 the younger obeyed, but the elder pushed him away. 
 
 “ Don’t you know,” said she, “ that I have promised 
 to take part in the battle? You shall see whether I am 
 afraid of blood.” 
 
 And as the warriors, Beavers and Cormorants, were 
 already rushing toward the bridge, Water-Chestnut, 
 with dishevelled hair and flashing eyes, sprang forward 
 spear in hand. 
 
VIII 
 
 THE ATTACH 
 
 HE terrestrial station of the Wolves was not far 
 
 from the Lacustrian city of the Beavers, and 
 could be reached in an hour’s walk. Though the little 
 army formed by the union of the two tribes was com- 
 posed of scarcely a thousand men, it was a formidable 
 force for the times. It advanced without order, and in 
 the forest, which it had entered, there were only nar- 
 row paths ; one individual was often compelled to walk 
 behind another, in Indian file. Not a cry was uttered, 
 not a word exchanged. The expedition could be suc- 
 cessful only by surprising the enemy, who were pro- 
 tected by lofty, solid ramparts. The chiefs had there- 
 fore ordered absolute silence to be maintained in the 
 ranks, and the instructions were so rigidly observed that 
 the harsh cry of the jay and the whistling of the black- 
 bird were heard in the depths of the vast woods. Some 
 members of the tribe of Wolves — shepherds watching 
 flocks, women and children gathering wild fruit — being 
 found in the way of the band, were unhesitatingly mas- 
 sacred. A blow from a club felled them ere they could 
 utter a cry of warning, and the bodies were concealed 
 under a heap of dry leaves, which the beasts of prey 
 16 181 
 
182 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 would scatter the following night. These murders were 
 committed without shame or regret, for, if the ancient 
 generations affected great reverence for the dead, they 
 set no value on human life. 
 
 As the army approached the city of the Wolves the 
 two chiefs thought it prudent to halt on the border of 
 the forest. The order was given in a low tone, and ran 
 from lip to lip to the end of the lines. Each crouched 
 beneath the underbrush while Light-Foot and White 
 Cloud consulted together about the plan to be adopted. 
 In the first place, it was important to ascertain whether 
 the hostile tribe, in spite of the precautions used, had 
 not taken the alarm. War in those days consisted, as 
 we have seen, in ambuscades, surprises; and Light- 
 Foot, trusting no one but himself to make the obser- 
 vations necessary, glided cautiously through the under- 
 brush to inspect the city. 
 
 Nothing revealed the slightest suspicion of evil. The 
 young chief of the Cormorants saw before him the 
 cyclopean wall with its huge layers of uncemented 
 stones; no warrior, no sentinel, appeared on the ram- 
 parts. Only a few laborers were rolling forward a huge 
 rock that was to be placed in position. The same secu- 
 rity reigned in every part of the city. The wooden 
 bridge that led to it was not guarded. The women 
 were going to the spring with their jugs as usual ; chil- 
 dren were playing noisily ; a few men, armed with bows, 
 seemed preparing to hunt. The Wolves evidently 
 feared no attack, and Light-Foot hastened to convey 
 the news to his ally, White Cloud. 
 
 To secure the success of the enterprise, they agreed 
 to divide the army into two bands. The unfinished 
 
THE ATTACH 
 
 183 
 
 wall presented numerous rough places by means of 
 which strong, active young men — of whom there were 
 many among the Cormorants and Beavers' — might easily 
 scale the massive structure. Half the little army was 
 to make the attack from this side, while the other por- 
 tion rushed upon the bridge, entered the city, and 
 murdered the inhabitants. 
 
 They instantly set about executing this plan. After 
 carefully choosing the young men intended to make 
 the attack, they were placed under the command of an 
 experienced warrior, and glided through the trees to 
 reach the foot of the ramparts. White Cloud, Light- 
 Foot, and Water-Chestnut went with the rest of the 
 army, taking the same precautions, toward the bridge. 
 
 While the Wolves were incurring such dangers, let 
 us relate what had taken place in this city, which was 
 apparently so quiet and at ease. 
 
 Hurricane, his forehead still covered with a bandage, 
 was seated before his hut. He seemed thoughtful and 
 anxious ; his eyes often turned toward the woods, as if 
 he expected some one from that quarter. Around him 
 were several of the prominent men of the tribe, most 
 of them advanced in years, and the aged Holly-Branch, 
 who held in one hand the mystic crescent and in the 
 other a spear. 
 
 Every one was plying Hurricane with entreaties and 
 reproaches, to which the chief listened impatiently. 
 
 “ Why do you wait ?” said the priestess ; “ the Cor- 
 morants and Beavers have made an alliance, and are 
 doubtless coming to attack us. You remain inactive; 
 it is not for that the Wolves made you their chief.” 
 
 “ What have we to fear behind these solid walls ?” 
 
1 84 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 replied Hurricane, shrugging his shoulders, “ I com- 
 missioned Greedy Pike to make friendly proposals to 
 Light-Foot. The new chief is a wise man ; he will 
 wish, like me, to end this quarrel. I also rely upon 
 the influence of another person, who, I know, will not 
 persist in hating me. So patience ! Friendship will 
 yet reign between us. A messenger is to announce it 
 to me ; he will come, I am sure. And all the tribes 
 will unite to celebrate, by a great festival, the restora- 
 tion of peace.” 
 
 An old man who possessed a certain degree of au- 
 thority among the Wolves said harshly, 
 
 “ Chief, peace is an excellent thing, but impossible 
 when men are so deeply enraged. Let us anticipate 
 them by burning the city of the Beavers as we burned 
 the abode of the Cormorants.” 
 
 “ Don’t give them time to prepare for defence,” con- 
 tinued another warrior; “ the Wolves are impatient for 
 the battle.” 
 
 “ I shall wait for the messenger’s return,” replied 
 Hurricane obstinately. 
 
 This resistance particularly exasperated the priestess 
 
 “ Chief,” she cried, “ you are neglecting the inter- 
 ests of the tribe for the dark-skinned daughter of Sea- 
 Eagle.” 
 
 Hurricane made an angry gesture, but kept silence. 
 
 Suddenly a terrible tumult arose in the city, mingled 
 with the notes of the horn. Shrieks of pain and terror 
 soon answered, and a frightful panic took place. Peo- 
 ple of both sexes and all ages rushed out of the huts 
 and dashed through the narrow streets, screaming and 
 jostling each other. 
 
THE ATTACK. 1 85 
 
 Hurricane had hastily risen, and was trying to ascer- 
 tain the cause of the alarm. 
 
 Holly-Branch and the prominent men of the tribe 
 awaited, like him, an explanation of the tumult — an 
 explanation that was not long delayed. 
 
 A young man, panting for breath, his shoulder pierced 
 by an arrow that still remained in the flesh, rushed up to 
 the group, shouting, 
 
 “ Chief, the Cormorants and Beavers have attacked the 
 wall at the breach, and already killed or wounded many 
 of our laborers. ,, 
 
 Hurricane was preparing to rush to the walls, when a 
 second messenger arrived from the opposite direction. 
 This was an old warrior, whose face was covered with 
 blood. 
 
 “ Chief,” said he, “ the Cormorants and Beavers have 
 seized the bridge, entered the city, and are slaying all 
 whom they meet.” 
 
 Hurricane uttered a cry of fury, but while hesitating 
 which way to go first, anger and hatred broke loose 
 around him. 
 
 u We are lost!” said one of the councillors — “lost 
 by your negligence, folly, and cowardice !” 
 
 “ Hurricane has betrayed us !” cried another. 
 
 “I caused the election of this unworthy chief,” 
 said Holly-Branch fiercely; “it is my place to punish 
 him.” 
 
 Collecting all her strength, she thrust the spear she 
 held in her hand into Hurricane’s back, just between 
 the shoulders. The chief, with a convulsive movement, 
 turned, seized the weapon, which had completely trans- 
 fixed him, raised his flint axe and dealt Holly-Branch a 
 16 * 
 
1 86 THE P RE- HIS T OR I C WORLD . 
 
 violent blow on the head. The priestess, with a broken 
 skull, fell lifeless. 
 
 Hurricane, in spite of his wound, remained standing, 
 still striving to withdraw the spear, but the men who 
 surrounded him simultaneously attacked him, dealing 
 blows with their clubs and lances. He vainly tried to 
 struggle, and at last sank beside his victim. 
 
 While this was occurring before the chief’s hut the rest 
 of the village was the scene of tears, curses, and slaugh- 
 ter. The young warriors detailed to attack the ramparts 
 had had no difficulty in scaling the unfinished walls. The 
 workmen had tried to defend themselves by rolling down 
 upon the assailants the materials within their reach, but 
 arrows and the stones hurled from slings soon killed or 
 put them to flight. The main body, detailed to take 
 possession of the bridge, had met with no resistance. 
 Issuing suddenly from the woods at a given signal, the 
 warriors had rushed forward and entered the city. Both 
 assaults had been equally successful, and the conquerors 
 advanced from the two different points toward the centre, 
 without any possibility of checking them. 
 
 Yet several of the Wolves attempted to do so. Though 
 surprised and isolated, it was not in their nature to allow 
 themselves to be slain without resistance. Each man 
 fought upon the threshold of his hut, surrounded by his 
 wife and children, who wept, stamped their feet, and clung 
 to the legs of the assailants to throw them down. But 
 what availed these individual efforts against enemies so 
 numerous ? The unfortunate warriors soon fell lifeless 
 before their homes, often with their whole families. Nev- 
 ertheless, in the numerous conflicts that simultaneously 
 occurred the Beavers and Cormorants did not always 
 
THE ATTACK. 1 8 / 
 
 have the advantage, and many of them purchased vic- 
 tory with their lives. 
 
 Thus, White Cloud, urged on by the love of pillage, had 
 entered almost alone a hut whose owner possessed great 
 quantities of the skins, weapons, and stags' antlers which 
 in those days constituted wealth. There were only a few 
 wailing women in the place, and White Cloud, without 
 taking any notice of them, eagerly seized the precious 
 booty. But it brought him evil ; while loaded with spoils 
 the master of the house suddenly entered, and hurling a 
 javelin at the robber, who could neither fly nor defend 
 himself, pierced him through the body. 
 
 Light-Foot thus found himself sole chief of the two 
 tribes, and his courage, combined with his prudence and 
 moderation, made him worthy of the supreme authority. 
 He advanced with a firm step amid a few chosen war- 
 riors, crushing resistance wherever it was becoming for- 
 midable, and sparing the conquered. By his side march- 
 ed Water-Chestnut, whose feverish excitement formed a 
 marked contrast to her brother-in-law’s grave, quiet 
 manner. She seemed intoxicated with vengeance; she 
 had killed more than one enemy and her spear was 
 stained with blood. Striking pitilessly and fearlessly, 
 she said ever and anon, in a wild, fierce tone, 
 
 “ Where is Hurricane ? Has he fled ?” 
 
 They thus reached a part of the city where a group of 
 Wolves were defending themselves desperately : they were 
 the men who a few moments before had surrounded the 
 young chief and accused him of treason. Light-Foot 
 and his escort rushed' forward to disperse this band, 
 and, as Water-Chestnut followed, she tripped over a hu- 
 man body. Glancing down, she recognized Hurricane. 
 
1 88 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 A woman is always a woman, even in the moments 
 when her feminine instincts seem stifled. Water-Chest- 
 nut, who but now had been seeking her former lover 
 with a deep feeling of hatred, who had almost murdered 
 him herself, turned pale as she saw the rigid, livid face 
 with its closed eyes. Her anger melted, her features 
 softened. Yet she said sullenly, 
 
 “ So you too are dead, you who killed my father Sea- 
 Eagle?" 
 
 This voice, which had once exerted so powerful an 
 influence over the young chief, recalled to the seemingly 
 inanimate body a semblance of life. A sort of tremor 
 ran through Hurricane’s limbs; his lips, already purple, 
 grew less stiff ; his eyelids quivered, and at last, with 
 great effort, were slowly raised. He looked at the 
 young girl and murmured in almost unintelligible 
 accents, “ Ah ! Water-Chestnut, why did you not lis- 
 ten to my words of peace?" 
 
 Water-Chestnut averted her face and answered, 
 
 “ How could there be peace between us when you 
 killed my messenger, Greedy Pike ?" 
 
 “What did you say?" replied the dying man, who 
 suddenly seemed to gain fresh strength. “ I sent him 
 away with this message : ‘ Gnarled Oak’s death has 
 avenged Sea-Eagle’s. Let Water-Chestnut become the 
 wife of the chief Hurricane, and the Wolves will help 
 the Cormorants rebuild the Lacustrian city. Moreover, 
 they will agree to erect a dolmen in which the Cormo- 
 rants shall bury Sea-Eagle and the warriors who perished 
 in the conflict.’ This is what I told Greedy Pike to re- 
 peat to you." 
 
 “But Greedy Pike did not return." 
 
THE ATTACH 1 89 
 
 “ He was doubtless devoured at night by wild beasts 
 while passing through the woods.” 
 
 Such accidents were very frequent in those days, and 
 this seemed only too probable. 
 
 Water-Chestnut uttered a cry of sorrow. 
 
 “ What have I done ?” she said. 
 
 Hurricane, exhausted, was struggling against death. 
 But he added, pausing at every word, “ I expected your 
 answer to-day. I was sure that you and Light-Foot 
 would accept my offers of peace. I would not permit 
 the tribe to take up arms. When you surprised us the 
 Wolves struck me down as a traitor. No matter- 
 Water-Chestnut, I loved you ; I would have liked to 
 live to love you still.” 
 
 Fresh convulsions shook the powerful frame, from 
 which the soul seemed to find it difficult to escape ; 
 then Hurricane lay motionless with parted lips. He 
 had just breathed his last sigh. 
 
 Water-Chestnut could not believe that all was over. 
 She knelt beside the young man and said frankly, 
 
 “ And I love you too. Take me, I belong to you ; I 
 will follow you wherever you go.” 
 
 But the beloved voice, uttering these fond words, 
 worked no new miracle ; Hurricane remained mute 
 and lifeless. Then Sea- Eagle’s daughter, giving way to 
 her despair, beat her breast and wrung her hands, while 
 her shrill cries blended with the terrible tumult that 
 rose on all sides. At last, panting for breath, exhausted 
 by her transports of grief, she sat down beside her lover, 
 and placing his head on her lap remained listless and 
 silent, enveloped in the long black hair that seemed to 
 form a veil to her grief. 
 
190 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 During this time Light-Foot had succeeded in crush' 
 mg the last efforts at resistance. As the ground was 
 already piled with corpses, he ordered his people to 
 cease the slaughter and confine themselves to making 
 the remnant of the tribe prisoners. The command was 
 executed; the Wolves, perceiving the uselessness of 
 their efforts, threw down their arms and begged for 
 mercy. The conquerors, Cormorants and Beavers, 
 placed them all, men and women, children and old 
 men, in a huge circle, of which they themselves formed 
 the circumference; then closing in upon them, forced 
 the miserable throng toward the young chief. 
 
 Light-Foot had rejoined his sister-in-law, and was 
 gazing at her with sympathizing glances. It was not 
 difficult to guess, from Water-Chestnut’s attitude, the 
 cause of her grief. When the pitiful remnant of the 
 tribe of Wolves came weeping and groaning to beseech 
 Light-Foot’s compassion, he said to them, 
 
 “ Sea-Eagle’s daughter shall decide your fate.” 
 
 All the tearful eyes, all the imploring hands, were 
 turned toward Water-Chestnut; every voice entreated 
 mercy. 
 
 She slowly pushed back her hair and cast her dull 
 eyes around her, as if she did not understand what was 
 wanted. At last she carefully laid the head of the 
 corpse upon the ground, and rose. Her majestic fig- 
 ure, marble features, and statuesque pose stood forth in 
 strong relief against the fierce faces of the warriors and 
 the entreating looks of the despairing throng. She 
 extended her arms to command silence, and said in 
 solemn tones, 
 
 “ Enough blood has flowed. Let the axes, arrows, 
 
THE ATTACH 
 
 I 9 I 
 
 and javelins cease to seek victims. Sea-Eagle's friends 
 must pardon." 
 
 A murmur of gratitude ran through the throng. 
 Water-Chestnut continued : 
 
 “ The conditions of the pardon shall be ” — she could 
 not utter Hurricane’s name — “ shall be those your late 
 chief proposed. The Wolves shall help the Cormo- 
 rants to rebuild the Lacustrian city." 
 
 “ We will rebuild it," cried many voices humbly. 
 
 “ Moreover," continued Water-Chestnut, “ you shall 
 raise a dolmen in which shall be placed the bones of 
 Sea-Eagle and those who perished with him." 
 
 “ We will raise the dolmen," replied the voices. 
 
 “ Then my brothers, the Cormorants and Beavers, 
 will grant you peace." 
 
 And Water-Chestnut sat down, without listening to 
 the thanks and blessings heaped upon her. 
 
 A great bustle followed this act of mercy. While 
 the conquerors dispersed through the city to disarm 
 the vanquished and continue the pillage, Light-Foot 
 said to his sister-in-law in an undertone, “ Unhappy 
 Water-Chestnut, you still loved Hurricane?" 
 
 “ Yes," she replied. 
 
 “ Then what will become of you ?" 
 
 She made a fierce, reckless gesture, and mechanically 
 casting down her eyes, perceived Holly-Branch, whose 
 corpse had been trampled under foot by the combatants. 
 Beside the ancient priestess of the tribe still lay the 
 mystic crescent, which had fallen from her dying hand 
 and been unseen in the tumult of the battle. Water- 
 Chestnut seized this emblem of supernatural power, 
 and raising it above her head, said, 
 
192 
 
 THE TEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 “ I shall never be wife or mother. I will be she 
 who cures the sick and wounded, dries the tears of 
 the afflicted, counsels and encourages the weak ; above 
 all, she who mourns the dead !” 
 
 The treaty concluded between the victorious and 
 conquered tribes was punctiliously performed. Part 
 of the Wolves helped the Cormorants to rebuild the 
 Lacustrian city, while the remainder were employed 
 in the erection of a dolmen on the shore of the lake 
 precisely opposite. It is in this way, according to all 
 appearances, that the megalithic monuments still ex- 
 tant, and which for a long time were attributed to the 
 Druids, have been constructed. We marvel how these 
 ancient generations — now called the dolmen nations — 
 without the aid of any metal tools, any machines, any 
 beasts of burden, could have transported (often from 
 very great distances) and raised immense stones, some 
 as heavy as the obelisk of Luxor. The explanation 
 of these wonders is doubtless very simple : a popula- 
 tion of slaves raised the dolmens, cromlechs, and men- 
 hirs with which the soil of France bristles. Some- 
 times also the will of a chief, religious enthusiasm, 
 regret for an illustrious hero, induced our ancestors 
 to undertake these gigantic works ; but, we repeat, 
 everything gives us cause to believe that they were 
 executed by slaves, conquered enemies, who as a re- 
 ward were granted their lives. 
 
 For more than a year the wretched survivors of the 
 tribe of Wolves were forced to labor at a herculean task. 
 The object to be accomplished was to place four rocks 
 in the form of a square and surmount them with a colos- 
 
THE ATTACK . 
 
 193 
 
 sal slab to make the “ funeral chamber,” after which the 
 whole monument, with the exception of the entrance, was 
 covered with earth in such a manner as to form an arti- 
 ficial mound called a tumulus . How many hardships, 
 how much toil, this represented for a tribe which, in- 
 cluding women and children, did not number more 
 than a thousand persons ! The transportation of the 
 “ table ” alone cost terrible fatigue. The block selected 
 was more than a quarter of a league from the place 
 where the dolmen was to be erected; the engines of 
 transportation consisted only of flax ropes (hemp not 
 being known) and wooden rollers. The whole popula- 
 tion was compelled to pull at the ropes to drag this 
 granite mass ; two whole months were occupied in the 
 work. Then the huge block was placed in position — 
 an act accomplished by dint of sheer strength and 
 perseverance. But how many poor people yielded to 
 exhaustion ere the task, undertaken with such feeble 
 means, was accomplished ! 
 
 Fortunately, the rebuilding of the Lacustrian city did 
 not present the same difficulties. The strong wind that 
 was blowing on the night of the conflagration, by lash- 
 ing the lake into waves, had prevented the piles from 
 being burned to the water’s edge. Only a few needed 
 to be replaced. The principal labor consisted in rebuild- 
 ing the platform and bridge ; but there was no lack of 
 pirogues to aid the work, and in spite of the difficulty 
 experienced in cutting beams and joists with their flint 
 tools, the reconstruction made rapid progress. The 
 houses, it will be remembered, were frail huts, built of 
 clay and branches; they were rebuilt with wonderful 
 rapidity by those who were to occupy them. So it 
 17 N 
 
*94 
 
 THE ERE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 will cause no surprise that in a little more than a year 
 after the events of this story the Lacustrian city of 
 the Cormorants should have resumed its former 
 appearance, while two or three hundred paces from 
 the shore of the lake rose the majestic tumulus - 
 dolmen, whose sloping sides were already covered with 
 grass. 
 
 On a splendid summer day a festival attended by the 
 three tribes was given to consecrate the monument. 
 A sepulchre could be dedicated only by funeral rites; 
 and, in fact, the bones of Sea-Eagle and the people of 
 his tribe who had been slain in the battle were removed 
 to the new dolmen with the usual ceremonies. Accord- 
 ing to custom, there was a great banquet on this occa- 
 sion ; an immense quantity of meat, bread, and wild 
 fruit was consumed by the throng. 
 
 When the time came for each person to give up his 
 greatest treasure to be placed in the tomb, Light-Foot 
 offered the bronze axe, which had been restored to him 
 after White Cloud’s death. A murmur of admiration 
 ran through the throng at the sight of so rich a gift; 
 but the people were no less astonished when Sea-Eagle’s 
 daughters offered their bronze bracelets and hair-pins to 
 their father’s manes, and every one thought Sea-Eagle 
 had had magnificent obsequies. 
 
 Yet when the last rites were performed, and Light- 
 Foot was alone with Strawberry-Blossom and Water- 
 Chestnut, he said, reproachfully, 
 
 “ Why did you give up the ornaments of which you 
 were so proud, and which I brought you at the cost 
 of so much fatigue and danger?” 
 
 “ What do I care for ornaments, Light-Foot?” replied 
 
THE ATTACH 
 
 195 
 
 Strawberry* Blossom. “ I did not have them when you 
 knew and loved me.” 
 
 Her husband’s only reply was a tender smile. 
 
 Water-Chestnut, who, gloomy and sorrowful, never 
 laid aside the mystic crescent, answered, sighing, 
 
 “ What do I care for ornaments ? There is no one 
 now whom I desire to please.” 
 
 She soon added, 
 
 “ Light-Foot, didn’t you say yourself that these metal 
 articles have a fatal influence and bring misfortune? 
 Only the dead can hallow them.” 
 
 Light-Foot reflected a moment. 
 
 “ Whether fatal or not,” he replied, “ sooner or later 
 bronze will reappear among our tribes, spread, and 
 mark the beginning of a new world very different from 
 ours.” 
 
 Sea-Eagle’s daughters looked at him in amazement; 
 they did not understand his meaning. 
 
 At the present day the lake where once rose the 
 Lacustrian cities of the Beavers and Cormorants has 
 disappeared and forms a fertile valley, where the plough 
 often strikes against the remains of carbonized piles. 
 A long succession of centuries has stripped the dolmen 
 of its cloak of earth, but the “ table ” on its four mas- 
 sive supports of solid rocks seems indestructible. An 
 antiquarian has recently been searching the ancient 
 “mortuary chamber,” and found among the bones of 
 men and animals a bronze axe and ornaments — a dis- 
 covery of the greatest archaeological importance, for it 
 marks the transition from the Age of Polished Stone 
 to the Age of Metals. 
 
Part III. 
 
 The Foundation of Paris. 
 
 (AGE OF METALS.) 
 
1 
 
 THE GALLIC FESTIVAL. 
 
 E are touching the threshold of history, yet we 
 
 shall make very secondary use of the traditions 
 in relation to the Gauls gathered by Amedee Thierry 
 from Herodotus, Posidonius, and Caesar. The first 
 place shall invariably be given to the facts furnished 
 by archaeological science, and we shall merely seek to 
 find their confirmation in tradition. The race which 
 occupied Parisian soil at the time of the mammoth and 
 in the Period of Hewn Stone was succeeded after a 
 countless number of ages by a new nation that seems, 
 according to its bones, to have differed very slightly 
 from what is called the Aryan race. These are the 
 people we have already studied in the Lacustrian city. 
 They are also called the dolmen nation y as we have said, 
 because they built the dolmens and menhirs still so 
 common in France and the rest of Europe. 
 
 We shall now study a period characterized by a new 
 method of burial and the incineration of the dead. The 
 tombs are no longer of the same nature ; they no longer 
 contain, as in former times, skeletons in crouching pos- 
 tures, with utensils of stone and bone, but bodies either 
 completely or partially burned, together with urns of 
 
 199 
 
200 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 glass or clay, weapons and ornaments of bronze, iron, 
 and even gold. This period includes a portion of the 
 Age of Bronze, as well as the Age of Iron ; and, thanks 
 to the metals, civilization, whose progress had been so 
 slow during former ages, made rapid strides until it had 
 annals and a history. 
 
 We should be unable to say how many years elapsed 
 between the events we are about to relate and Caesar’s ar- 
 rival in Gaul ; but when these events occurred the Gauls 
 were far from possessing the wealth and power they had 
 at the period of the Roman invasion. The tribes which 
 from the plains of Persia, Asia, and the Crimea con- 
 stantly rushed into Europe, displacing, through deci- 
 mating, each other by constant conflict, seem to have 
 had a common origin, the Aryan race. Cities were 
 rare ; the population lived in families or tribes, devoted 
 to the cultivation of the soil, the raising of cattle, and 
 certain manufactures which were carried on within the 
 households. It was only in case of war or invasion 
 that they concentrated and formed nations. Vast for- 
 ests, marshes, and moors still covered the greater por- 
 tion of the country. The roads were few in number 
 and badly made; the Romans constructed the mag- 
 nificent highways whose indestructible ruins still re- 
 main; and but for the navigable rivers the commerce 
 carried on by means of barter— that seems to have 
 been very active even in those remote times — would 
 have met with extreme difficulties. 
 
 At the time of which we speak the territory Lu- 
 tece or Paris was afterward to occupy belonged to 
 the nation of the Senons,* who lived between the 
 
 * People of Sens and its vicinity. 
 
THE GALLIC FESTIVAL . 
 
 201 
 
 Loire and the Seine, and for a long time were the 
 terror of Italy. The site of the future capital of the 
 civilized world was still a solitude, while not far away, 
 in one of the numberless curves of the river, a locality 
 which to-day is only a humble suburb of the great 
 city seemed to be the centre of a numerous popula- 
 tion. We allude to Argenteuil,* situated on the right- 
 hand shore of the Seine, near Orgemont. 
 
 Argenteuil did not then, as in our day, owe its im- 
 portance to the sour wines made from the grapes that 
 grow on its hills. The cultivation of the vine had not 
 yet reached Parisian soil, for this branch of agriculture 
 in Caesar’s time had not extended beyond the prov- 
 inces near the Mediterranean, and barely reached the 
 Cevennes. Nevertheless, a village of tolerable size ex- 
 isted upon the site of the modern Argenteuil, where 
 there is still a magnificent dolmen. This dolmen, which 
 has recently been opened, and furnished great archaeo- 
 logical wealth, belonged to the Period of Polished 
 Stone.f Besides, it was already old at the time 
 this story begins, and for many ages the turf had 
 grown green every spring on the sides of the artificial 
 mound. 
 
 The village, consisting of huts scattered or collected 
 in groups amid the trees, stood at a short distance. 
 These huts looked like huge beehives. Low, round 
 or oval in form, with a conical roof pierced with a hole 
 
 * The name of Argenteuil has a Celtic derivation. It proceeds from 
 the Celtic arg and ant , which signify high and low. 
 
 | It contained axes of polished flint with handles of stags’ antlers, a 
 flint lance-head, rude pottery, bracelets, and necklaces of shells and peb- 
 bles. All these objects are preserved in Case 33 at Sainte-Germain. 
 
202 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 for the passage of the smoke, they were built of beams 
 coated with clay, and their roofs were made of oak 
 shingles, with a layer of thatch. Within, in the centre, 
 was a large stone where the fire was made; beneath 
 the dwelling was a cavity of round or oval shape which 
 took the place of a cellar. These cavities still exist in 
 many parts of France, and are called curbs* 
 
 The village of Argenteuil was not protected by 
 any kind of fortifications, but its inhabitants doubtless 
 possessed, either on the knoll of Orgemont or the hill 
 afterward called Mont Valerien, one of the fortified en- 
 closures where the Gauls took refuge with their fam- 
 ilies and herds in case of invasion. Around were cul- 
 tivated fields that extended to the Seine ; they produced 
 wheat, barley, flax, hemp, and were bordered with fruit- 
 trees. There were also meadows whose verdant car- 
 pets intersected the yellow gold of the harvests ; but 
 the sheep and oxen, horses and asses, of the hamlet 
 seemed more accustomed to live in the woods under 
 the care of shepherds than in regular pastures. It does 
 not appear that there were any stables at this remote 
 period ; the domestic animals were shut up for the 
 night in pens in the open air. The swine, whose flesh 
 was of considerable importance in supplying the Gauls 
 with food, were allowed to roam in the forests, after 
 having doubtless been marked by their owners. There 
 they became wild and formed immense droves, which, 
 according to history, often endangered the lives of 
 solitary travellers. 
 
 But we have wandered long enough around the Gallic 
 village of Argenteuil, and will now enter it with the 
 
 * Henri Martin. 
 
THE GALLIC FESTIVAL . 
 
 203 
 
 reader to note more closely the strange manners and 
 barbarous customs of our ancestors. 
 
 At the end of this village, in a picturesque situation 
 not far from the river, a group of three or four huts 
 stood beneath the shade of some ancient oaks. They 
 belonged to the widow of a warrior who had been slain 
 in one of the skirmishes then so frequent between the 
 different tribes. This widow was named Bodicea, and 
 had a very beautiful daughter eighteen years old. Be- 
 sides the huts she occupied with her slaves and ser- 
 vants, she owned fields, pastures, and flocks, which 
 made her only child the richest heiress in the country. 
 
 Let us note one characteristic detail. Over the door 
 of each hut were nailed one or more human heads, 
 worn by' time and scarcely preserving a few remnants 
 of hair ; they were those of the enemies Bodicea’s hus- 
 band had killed in battle. Besides these horrible tro- 
 phies suspended outside the habitation, the widow pos- 
 sessed several others carefully preserved in chests — 
 heads of chiefs, which, embalmed and coated with 
 cedar oil, were to bear witness to posterity of the dead 
 man’s courage. These trophies in those days were like 
 titles of nobility ; families would not have consented 
 to give them up at any price. The hideous skulls, 
 blackened by the wind and rain, which decorated Bo- 
 dicea’s door, seemed to inspire no disgust in the guests 
 entertained by the widow on the day when this story 
 begins, and the banquet had been spread directly in 
 front of these repulsive relics. 
 
 It was toward the close of a summer day; the sun, 
 like a ball of red-hot iron, had just disappeared behind 
 Mont Valerien. Perhaps the excessive heat had in- 
 
204 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 duced the widow to have the feast served in the court- 
 yard formed by the huts, under the shelter of the trees ; 
 and this banquet, in spite of the small number of the 
 guests, was magnificent and ceremonious. 
 
 The table, which was round in form and very low, 
 was made of roughly-hewn oak planks. The guests 
 had taken their places on bundles of hay or straw, the 
 only seats that seemed to be known at that remote 
 period. The table, as may be supposed, had no cloth, 
 but it was overloaded with bronze or copper dishes 
 that contained smoking meats — quarters of venison, 
 roast mutton, fresh or salt pork. Neither plates, glasses, 
 knives, nor forks were then in use. If a guest found 
 a piece of meat that suited him, he took it from the 
 dish with his hand, tore and bit it as best he could, 
 thus presenting the disgusting details of the banquets 
 in the Stone Age. When the piece was too hard, the 
 men cut it with a small knife suspended from the hilt 
 of their swords. A single cup, passed from hand to 
 hand, served for all. It was filled with the beer called 
 cervisia or hydromel. Wine, although known, was 
 procured in this part of Gaul with great difficulty, and 
 Dame Bodicea had doubtless been unable to obtain 
 any. To make amends, the male and female slaves 
 constantly brought new dishes and refilled the common 
 cup, as if they desired to make up for the rudeness of 
 the feast by the abundance of viands and drink. 
 
 The guests — at least those who had been really in- 
 vited to the entertainment — -seemed to be important 
 persons in the community, and we will give each a 
 special description after having said a few words of 
 Bodicea, the mistress of the house. 
 
THE GALLIC FESTIVAL . 
 
 205 
 
 The widow was about fifty years old, and her bronzed, 
 angular features retained no trace of beauty ; braids of 
 unkempt gray hair fell on her shoulders. Her dress 
 was a woollen robe, clasped at the waist with a belt 
 ornamented by brass plates. Her arms, limbs, and 
 feet were bare, but loaded with a profusion of metal 
 rings. Several necklaces of yellow amber and shells 
 surrounded her neck, and heavy bronze earrings hung 
 from her ears. Bodicea, at the time of her husband’s 
 death, had had great difficulty in evading the law of 
 those times, which condemned the widow of a Gaul to 
 be burned alive or stoned to death on his tomb. Cer- 
 tain arrangements, secretly made with the dead man’s 
 relatives, had saved her from this terrible fate ; but the 
 success of the negotiation was principally due to a 
 person seated near her at this moment, to whom she 
 paid marked attention. 
 
 This was a man about forty years of age, with a long 
 beard and majestic countenance. He wore a green 
 woollen tunic, and had on his head a garland of leaves, 
 half concealed amid his thick hair. On his breast, 
 fastened to a bronze chain, was an ornament of ovoid 
 form which aroused in the spectators the reverence 
 a holy relic would inspire in the faithful Christians of 
 our day. This ornament, called “ serpent’s egg,” and 
 which seems to have been a petrified sea-urchin, was 
 considered a wonderful talisman ; it was supposed to 
 have the virtue of making all enterprises successful and 
 gaining access to kings. The person who wore the 
 serpent’s egg was the ovate of the tribe of Argen- 
 teuil. 
 
 The ovates, who were a lower order of the Druid 
 18 
 
206 
 
 THE PRE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 priests, formed the secular clergy, if we may so express 
 it, of this religion, and were the only persons who had 
 direct intercourse with the population, the druids — 
 the supreme priests — living alone in mysterious retreats 
 in the depths of the forests. They were occupied in 
 the material portion of the worship— the celebration 
 of sacrifices. They drew auguries from observing the 
 flight of birds and the entrails of the victims, predicted 
 future events, and practised medicine. Under all cir- 
 cumstances they announced the will of the druids, 
 whose representatives they were, and nothing important 
 could be accomplished without their agency. 
 
 Beside the ovate sat a guest who belonged to the 
 third and lowest rank of the Druid priesthood. He 
 was young, and his bright face, with its sparkling eyes, 
 expressed at times the gayety peculiar to the Gauls. 
 He wore a blue woollen robe, and above his head, hang- 
 ing on the branch of a tree, was a sort of guitar, from 
 which at intervals he drew a few accords. We have 
 guessed that this was one of the bards or poets, who 
 celebrated in their songs the national legends, animated 
 warriors to the fray, extolled their glory after victory, or 
 reproached them in defeat. The bards enjoyed absolute 
 liberty of speech ; and besides their sacred character 
 the chiefs and eminent warriors were obliged to concil- 
 iate them as the dispensers of fame and glory. 
 
 The ovate and bard seated at Bodicea’s table belonged 
 to the conquering race of Kimris, who had brought the 
 Druid religion into Gaul ; but the third guest was evi- 
 dently one of the former inhabitants. No more superb 
 specimen of this primitive race could be found. The 
 youth, who was twenty or twenty-five years old, had a 
 
THE GALLIC FESTIVAL . 
 
 207 
 
 herculean frame and prodigious strength, while his 
 military dress set off to the greatest advantage the 
 manly proportions of his figure. Yet his frank, open 
 face and sparkling blue eyes usually expressed sim- 
 plicity and gentleness. His long moustache was red, 
 as well as his hair, which fell in heavy curls upon his 
 shoulders ; but this artificial color was due either to fre- 
 quent washing in lime-water or a caustic pomade com- 
 posed of grease and the ashes of the ash tree. On his 
 arms, his legs, and even his face, might have been de- 
 tected traces of tattooing, similar to that still practised 
 at the present day among the Arabs. Bracelets of iron 
 and bronze encircled his arms; a necklace of shells 
 jingled on his breast. He wore a kind of breeches, 
 and a sagum — a sort of cloak — fastened under the chin 
 by a metal clasp ; both garments were striped with red, a 
 color reserved for warriors. On his head was a bronze 
 helmet, surmounted with two bulls' horns, which gave 
 his countenance a barbaric aspect. His weapons con- 
 sisted of a long sabre without a point and with a single 
 sharp edge, enclosed in a bronze sheath and suspended 
 from a leather belt. Moreover, he had placed against a 
 tree a few paces away his spear made of wood hardened 
 by fire, and a wooden shield covered with badly-tanned 
 leather. 
 
 Such were Bodicea’s guests. Nevertheless, the ovate, 
 bard, and warrior were not the only persons who took 
 part in the festival. Behind the principal personages 
 stood several rows of sycophants, “ drawn by the 
 smoke," who every moment thrust their arms over the 
 others' heads to snatch from the dishes the morsels 
 that best pleased their tastes. These were dependents, 
 
208 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 friends of lower rank, or even passers-by, who accord- 
 ing to a hospitable custom thus shared the good cheer. 
 They seemed to desire to atone for their familiarity by 
 their silence and respectful attitude, but the ovate with 
 his priestly dignity, and the poet with his somewhat 
 pedantic haughtiness, could scarcely endure it, while 
 the warrior, though himself eating enough for four, 
 was greatly amused by the dependents' voracity. 
 
 The widow’s only daughter, the beautiful Mona, did 
 not attend the banquet. Her absence had not remain- 
 ed unnoticed by Bodicea’s guests ; on the contrary, it 
 seemed to be the subject of continual thought, and their 
 eyes frequently turned toward the door of a neighboring 
 hut, through which they expected to see Mona appear. 
 
 It will be easy to understand the motive of this pre- 
 occupation when we have told the cause of the feast. 
 
 The Gallic women enjoyed certain privileges and a 
 certain degree of independence ; among these privileges 
 was the right of choosing a husband for themselves. 
 When a young girl reached the marriageable age, her 
 parents invited all the aspirants to her hand to a grand 
 banquet. At a certain moment the future wife appeared 
 bearing a bronze cup which contained hydromel or wine, 
 and the guest to whom she offered it was the husband 
 of her choice; there was nothing more to be done ex- 
 cept fix the dowry and celebrate the marriage. Thus, 
 on the shores of the Mediterranean a Greek traveller 
 named Euxenes had been chosen by Gyptis, the 
 daughter of a Gallic chief, and obtained as her 
 dower the territory where he founded Massilia or 
 Marseilles. 
 
 Now, it was for a purpose of this kind that Bodicea 
 
THE GALLIC FESTIVAL . 
 
 209 
 
 gave the banquet, and the ovate, bard, and warrior all 
 sought Mona’s hand. To whom would the Gallic virgin 
 present the cup ? No one knew, and that is why their 
 eyes constantly turned toward the door that was to give 
 her egress. The charming virgin did not appear, and 
 the visitors’ eager gaze beheld only the hideous, offen- 
 sive, withered head of a Carnute chief that had been 
 nailed for several years above the door; but they did 
 not lose courage, and each thought he had reason 
 to hope that the beautiful Mona would offer him the 
 cup, unless she should think proper to give it, as was 
 her right, to one of the hungry vagabonds in the last 
 row, or even one of the slaves, who, clad in garments 
 of birch-bark, moved to and fro, serving the guests. 
 
 18 * 0 
 
II. 
 
 THE CUP. 
 
 HANKS to the secret hope each of Mona’s suitors 
 
 cherished, the conversation did not languish. The 
 priest, proud of his knowledge and authority, spoke 
 emphatically, pausing from time to time to make liba- 
 tions to the gods, or to watch the flight of the birds 
 soaring amid the neighboring trees and draw auguries 
 from them. The bard assumed airs of inspiration and 
 affected a flowery, poetical language. Sometimes, as 
 we have said, he played on his guitar a moment and 
 sung a few notes to enliven the banquet. His songs, 
 like the priest’s pedantic sentences, were evidently 
 addressed to some invisible person ; both doubtless 
 expected that music and words would reach Mona. 
 
 Dumorix, the warrior, was far less noisy. He said 
 little and only in curt interjections, and bore with 
 evident impatience the haughty airs of the druid, the 
 loud voice, impassioned gestures, and lyric transports 
 of the poet-musician. Dumorix, from habit and tem- 
 perament, paid more heed to deeds than words, and, 
 besides, did not profess the Druidism of the Kimris, but 
 remained faithful to the ancient religion, a sort of poly- 
 theism which adored the great forces of Nature — the 
 
 210 
 
THE CUP . 
 
 2 1 1 
 
 thunder, called Tarann ; the hurricane, called Kirk ; the 
 rivers, sun, and stars. So it was not without indigna- 
 tion that he listened to the ovate’s oracles, the bard’s 
 sonorous words ; but he remained passive, and when his 
 patience was exhausted began to eat again with an 
 appetite that seemed difficult to satisfy. 
 
 Bodicea, who was a well-bred hostess, tried to show 
 her guests equal attention, and even extended her cour- 
 tesy to the dependents, who, attracted by curiosity as 
 much as by hunger, became more and more numerous. 
 Nevertheless, in spite of herself, she showed a prefer- 
 ence for the ovate, who was the oldest of all her daugh- 
 ter’s suitors, but also the richest and most exalted in 
 rank. She gave him the reverence a bigot of our day 
 would render a bishop, and every word that fell from 
 the druid’s mouth appeared to her a decree of divine 
 wisdom. 
 
 Just as the meal was drawing to a close, and Mona 
 might be expected to appear with her cup according to 
 custom, the widow said to the ovate, 
 
 “ Priest of Irminsul, I have heard that Hatt, the chief 
 of this village, is seriously ill. Hatt is old, but have 
 the gods decided that he should soon pass to the ‘ better 
 world’? He is a just man, a brave warrior; could you 
 not restore him to health? Your knowledge is so great, 
 you are so powerful, nothing can resist you.” 
 
 The ovate drew himself up proudly. 
 
 “ Bodicea,” he replied, “ only the power of the gods 
 is boundless, and perhaps Hatt is already condemned. 
 I have consulted the flight of the ravens, the entrails 
 of the victims, but the omens have always been most 
 gloomy. In vain have I placed my serpent’s egg upon 
 
212 
 
 THE TEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 the sick chief’s lips — in vain given him drink prepared 
 from herbs gathered by myself according to the sacred 
 rites. The disease increases, the omens have become no 
 more propitious, and Hatt cannot fail to soon pass into 
 the better world.” 
 
 “ Make fresh efforts, ovate, I beseech you,” replied 
 the widow warmly. “ The chief was the friend of 
 Mona’s father; my daughter and I will rejoice if your 
 power, which rules the elements, at last restores the 
 vergobret to life and health.” 
 
 a Enough, Bodicea : I can refuse you and your 
 daughter nothing. To-morrow I will enter my chariot 
 and seek the revered druid of our tribe in the ‘ holy 
 wood,’ where he dwells several leagues from here amid 
 the sacred oaks. I will ask him for a little of the 
 consecrated plant, the mistletoe, which, cut with a gold 
 sickle in the sixth day of the moon, cures all diseases. 
 Thanks to the sacred plant, Hatt will regain his health.” 
 The widow expressed her gratitude for the ovate’s 
 somewhat bold promises with an eagerness that roused 
 the jealousy of the other two guests. 
 
 il Hatt is a noble chief,” cried the poet enthusias- 
 tically ; “ he has ever shown himself generous to the 
 bards ; he gave me a gold ring and a bronze cup as 
 guerdon for my songs. My music has an irresistible 
 charm ; more than once the nightingale has hushed 
 her notes to listen ; the eagle, soaring midst the clouds, 
 stops his imperious cry to hear my melodies. I’ll tune 
 my guitar and seat myself by the chieftain’s couch. 
 My music, by the aid of the gods, will possess so much 
 virtue that the conquered disease will fly, and Hatt 
 arise younger and stronger than ever.” 
 
THE CUP. 
 
 213 
 
 Dumorix the warrior did not wish to be left behind. 
 
 “ By Circius !” he said harshly, •“ Hatt is my patron 
 and friend. I have sworn to follow him to battle, share 
 his dangers, though I should perish. I’ll thrust my 
 spear through those who have cast the spell of sick- 
 ness on him, and give their entrails to the wolves and 
 vultures. If he dies — I am Dumorix son of Caletes — I 
 will seize all the enemies of my patron Hatt, and slay 
 them on the funeral pile.” 
 
 No words could do justice to the fierce energy with 
 which the young giant uttered this speech. His eyes 
 flashed lightnings, his red moustache bristled like an 
 angry lion’s. He had impetuously risen, seized his 
 spear and buckler, and clashed them together with an 
 air of defiance. But the mood passed as swiftly as it 
 came. Dumorix restored his weapons to their former 
 places, returned to the table, and sat there with down- 
 cast eyes. 
 
 The sympathy of the dependents, servants, and slaves 
 who formed the circle of spectators around the guests 
 seemed to have been won by the warrior’s vigorous 
 demonstrations. The ovate feared that Bodicea might 
 share this feeling, and hastily said in his sententious 
 tones, 
 
 “ Neither the courage of a warrior nor the songs of 
 a bard can restore the chief to health. This power 
 belongs solely to the gods, who communicate it to the 
 druids and ovates. Irminsul has spoken to Bodicea 
 by my voice ; to-morrow Hatt will have the mistletoe 
 and be cured.” 
 
 All present bowed respectfully on hearing this for- 
 mal promise, and the conversation had begun anew, 
 
214 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 when it suddenly ceased. The door of the neighboring 
 hut had opened ; in the place of the hideous grinning 
 head of the dead chief appeared the charming face of 
 the young girl who had been so impatiently expected. 
 
 Mona had a tall elegant figure, fair complexion, blue 
 eyes, and a quantity of fair hair ; she deserved the repu- 
 tation for beauty then enjoyed by the Gallic women 
 throughout the world. Her dress consisted of a white 
 tunic, which, according to custom, left her arms and 
 legs bare. A linen veil — the virgin’s veil — fell upon 
 her shoulders, and the light draperies gave her a 
 graceful, airy appearance. She wore bracelets and 
 necklaces of glass and amber. The clasp that closed 
 her tunic, as well as her earrings, was of gold, for— 
 singular fact! — the use of gold seems at this remote 
 period to have preceded that of silver. 
 
 At the sight of the beautiful girl a profound silence 
 fell not only upon the guests, but also on the spectators. 
 Mona held in her hand a bronze cup, on which were 
 several engraved ornaments, for the arts were begin- 
 ning to develop. She smiled and blushed, but did not 
 raise her eyes. 
 
 Perhaps she was well aware to which of her suitors 
 she intended to offer the marriage-cup, but either from 
 modesty or mischief seemed to hesitate. Pausing be- 
 fore the table with an embarrassed air, she at last glanced 
 at her mother’s guests. 
 
 Each one, in this solemn moment, thought it his 
 duty to say a few words in support of his claims. 
 
 The ovate spoke first. 
 
 “ Daughter of Bodicea,” he said with haughty self- 
 importance, “ I am the priest of Irminsul, Esus, and 
 
THE CUP . 
 
 215 
 
 Teutates. At my voice tempests subside ; I work 
 miracles ; I read the future. Offer me the cup : I will 
 give you rank and power.” 
 
 “ O fairest of the Gallic virgins !” cried the bard in 
 his musical voice, “ I alone can perceive and celebrate 
 your peerless beauty. My sweetest songs shall be 
 yours. At the festivals of the chiefs, at public enter- 
 tainments, I will extol your charms, praise your perfec- 
 tions, and all the tribes shall know the name of Bodi- 
 cea’s daughter. Offer me the cup : I will give you fame.” 
 A little pout appeared on the lips of Mona, who re- 
 mained motionless and silent. 
 
 Dumorix, in his turn, said with manly simplicity, 
 
 %< I love you, Mona. Offer me the cup, and I will 
 love and protect you till I fall dead in battle.” 
 
 This somewhat laconic speech aroused the mirth of 
 the young girl, who uttered a fresh silvery laugh ; but 
 almost instantly, trembling from head to foot, and red- 
 der than a ripe cherry, she held out the cup to Dumo- 
 rix, who with a cry of joy seized it, draining its con- 
 tents at a single draught. 
 
 The warrior doubtless had friends among the spec- 
 tators, for a murmur of approval welcomed Mona’s 
 choice. Some went hastily away to be the first to tell 
 the news that the widow’s daughter had just offered 
 the cup to Dumorix son of Caletes. Perhaps one was 
 even going to shout the tidings from some hilltop to 
 the shepherds and laborers scattered over the country, 
 that, repeated from mouth to mouth, they might fly 
 swiftly to the extreme limits of the territory owned by 
 the tribe, as was usual when events of public interest 
 occurred among the Gauls. 
 
21 6 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 On the other hand, the bard, and especially the ovate, 
 did not accept their defeat philosophically. While Mona 
 sat down to the table, and her betrothed husband, full of 
 pride and love, stammered a few words of gratitude, the 
 bard went to the tree and took down his guitar. Stri- 
 king the strings, he began to sing some satirical verses 
 about women ‘- who preferred the harsh clash of arms 
 to the sweet sounds of poesy.” 
 
 The Druid priest did not attempt to conceal his anger 
 and offended pride. His eyebrows contracted, his eyes 
 rolled furiously. The widow having sought to excuse 
 Mona’s thoughtless choice, he exclaimed, 
 
 “A minister of the all-powerful Irminsul is above 
 the whims of a frivolous child. The offended gods 
 will avenge their priest. Look, woman ! the most ter- 
 rible omens mark this marriage. At the moment 
 your daughter offered the warrior the cup the sun 
 was concealed in a black cloud, its edges red with 
 blood; the owl uttered its first cry, and the bats are 
 now darting over our heads. These signs betoken 
 misery, extermination, ruin to the young couple and 
 their race.” 
 
 The terrified Bodicea implored the ovate to dispel 
 these gloomy omens ; he remained inflexible. His fury 
 was still further roused by the sight of the young lovers, 
 who, seated on the same bundle of hay, were talking in 
 a low tone, without troubling themselves about what was 
 passing around them. 
 
 Meantime, twilight had insensibly closed in, night was 
 falling, the laborers were returning from the fields. The 
 ovate and bard were preparing to withdraw, when sud- 
 denly a great clamor arose at the other end of the vil- 
 
THE CUP . 
 
 21 / 
 
 lage — wails, groans, and lamentations, such as are usu- 
 ally called forth by some public calamity. 
 
 This time all present, even the newly-affianced lovers, 
 listened intently. The wails grew louder and nearer. 
 Bodicea signed to a slave to go and make inquiries. 
 She obeyed, and speedily returned. 
 
 “ The chief has uttered his last sigh,” she said ; “ the 
 women and warriors are mourning for him.” 
 
 Ceremony required that all the members of the tribe 
 should take part in these demonstrations of grief. So 
 Mona, Bodicea, their guests and servants, hastily mingled 
 their voices in the concert of lamentations. The bard 
 again touched the strings of his guitar and improvised a 
 few verses in the dead chief’s honor. Dumorix again 
 struck his spear against his buckler and said with real 
 emotion, “ Hatt, my patron, my friend f you have gone 
 to the world of the strong and valiant. May the god 
 Ogmius aid me ! I shall join you there some day.” 
 The ovate alone took no share in the mourning pre- 
 scribed by etiquette. He had risen; a smile of malicious 
 satisfaction curled his lips. 
 
 “ Children of Irminsul,” said he, “ the gods are already 
 punishing the insult offered to one of their ministers; 
 their vengeance will fall upon you all. To-morrow I 
 was to take your chief the mistletoe, and he would have 
 been instantly cured ; for the mistletoe, gathered on the 
 sixth day of the moon in the first month of the year, is 
 infallible. It was not the will of the gods; they have 
 deprived the chief of life because an ovate’s majesty has 
 been offended. Now their wrath will fall upon this bold 
 girl, her imprudent mother, and the ignorant warrior who 
 lives in the heresy of the Gauls.” 
 
 19 
 
218 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 The group had ceased to mingle in the chorus of 
 lamentations that arose from all parts of the village, 
 and listened to the priest in religious silence. 
 
 “ Forgive me, ovate,” said Mona with tearful eyes, 
 clasping her hands imploringly. “ I have obeyed the 
 law of the Druids and my own heart in choosing the 
 husband who pleased me.” 
 
 “ Spare us, ovate,” added the mother. “ I was not 
 aware — Mona had not told me — Disarm the anger 
 of the terrible gods, I beseech you.” 
 
 Dumorix interposed. “ Do not fear,” he said boldly. 
 “ By Tarann ! I will protect you even against the wrath 
 of the Druids’ gods.” 
 
 “ Impious wretch !” cried the ovate angrily, “ fear 
 for yourself.” 
 
 Dumorix answered by the words then on the lips 
 of all Gallic warriors, and which had become a sort 
 of proverb: 
 
 “ I fear only one thing — that ‘ the heavens may fall/ ” 
 
 The ovate wished to reply, but the young warrior’s 
 attitude was so threatening that he dared not show his 
 indignation further. He turned away, and, without 
 listening to mother or daughter, hastily retired. 
 
 Scarcely had he disappeared when the bard in his 
 turn abruptly left the company, and all the spectators 
 and dependents, fearing the effect of the divine anger 
 announced by the priest, hastily dispersed, as they 
 would have fled from some plague-stricken dwelling. 
 
 Left alone with Dumorix, Bodicea and Mona did 
 not cease to give way to their fears. The warrior tried 
 to reassure them, but, gifted with more courage than 
 eloquence, met with little success. 
 
THE CUP . 
 
 219 
 
 “ Mona,” he said passionately at last, “ you shall 
 never repent having offered the cup to me instead of 
 that proud ovate or insolent singer. If I must die to 
 defend you and your mother, I am ready.” 
 
 Mona, draped in her ample linen garments, rested 
 her head on the warrior’s shoulder and answered sadly, 
 “ I know you love me, brave Dumorix, but what 
 can you do against the wrath of the gods ?” 
 
 “ I say once more, I do not fear the Druids’ gods,” 
 replied the warrior, raising his clenched hand toward 
 heaven ; “ and as to the Druids, I defy them !” 
 
 The terrified women implored him to be silent. 
 
 Custom required that immediately after the betrothal 
 banquet a day should be fixed for the celebration of the 
 marriage, but mother and daughter insisted that the 
 wedding should not take place until after Hatt’s funeral. 
 Dumorix, who was bound to the chief by the ties of 
 patronage, dared not oppose this arrangement. Besides, 
 the funeral rites could not be long delayed, and on 
 the following day the augurs would determine the 
 proper day and hour for the solemn ceremony. 
 
III. 
 
 THE AUSPICES. 
 
 D UMORIX had not been born in the village of 
 Argenteuil, but had come there to settle several 
 years before with an old woman, his mother ; and it 
 was said that they alone had escaped from the massacre 
 of their family in a quarrel between two tribes. Already 
 strong and skilful in the use of arms, the young warrior 
 had placed himself under the patronage — or, as it was 
 expressed in those days, made himself the “ friend ” — 
 of Hatt, the chief of the village. By this compact he 
 promised to follow his patron to battle and assist him 
 under all circumstances. Hatt, on his part, had given 
 his new subject a field whose culture would afford him 
 support, a hut, and a horse, by means of which Du- 
 morix son of Caletes soon played a prominent part in 
 his adopted tribe. 
 
 The young man’s mother had died a short time before 
 this story begins, and the warrior, thanks to his inde- 
 fatigable activity, continued to prosper. Gentle and 
 obliging, although he had the fierce passions and rude 
 habits of his race, he was beloved by all who ap- 
 proached him. The courage, strength, and skill dis- 
 played on various occasions had won the affection of 
 220 
 
THE AUSPICES. 
 
 221 
 
 the chief, who considered him his bravest warrior. 
 Moreover, he was esteemed an experienced hunter; he 
 excelled in riding, rowing, shooting arrows, and hurling 
 lances. Thus he was an accomplished young man in a 
 period when education did not exist, when the Gauls 
 were scarcely beginning to understand the use of wri- 
 ting, and the Druids themselves gave only verbal in- 
 struction; and we can understand how the pretty 
 Mona’s choice had fallen upon him to the exclusion 
 of the ovate and bard. 
 
 The day after the banquet he went to Bodicea’s house 
 to see his future wife. The mother and daughter having 
 gone to a neighboring wood, where the augurs were 
 to be consulted on the subject of the chief’s funeral, 
 Dumorix hurried after them. 
 
 The sacred — or, according to the Druids’ language, 
 the u chaste ” — grove stood at some distance from the 
 village, and was reached by a winding path, along 
 which a number of people were already hastening, 
 eager to be present at the auspice. There was no lack 
 of warriors, dependents of the dead chief. Like Dumo- 
 rix, they wore bronze helmets, surmounted with horns 
 or a kind of metallic wings, and carried heavy sabres, 
 wooden bucklers, and lances with iron heads. The Gal- 
 lic warriors rarely laid aside their weapons, even when 
 they went to their work in the fields. The throng was 
 silent; the wails of grief, which the night before had 
 re-echoed to the verge of the horizon, and bore a strong 
 resemblance to the coronach or funeral dirge of the 
 Scotch clans, were no longer heard ; they were deferred 
 until the time when the funeral ceremonies should take 
 place. 
 
 19 * 
 
222 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 The path soon entered the grove of venerable trees, 
 which intercepted the rays of the sun, and permitted 
 only a faint light to penetrate the branches. Either 
 from religious reverence or the influence of the dark- 
 ness every one ceased talking while passing through 
 these majestic shades, and after making several turns 
 entered a sort of clearing, where the ceremony was 
 to take place. 
 
 This spot was a temple for the Druid worship, for the 
 religion of the “ men of the oaks ” had no other sanc- 
 tuaries than the green vaults of the groves. In the 
 centre of the clearing stood a dead tree, stripped of its 
 bark, whose leafless boughs inspired a feeling of hor- 
 ror. It was consecrated to Irminsul, the most terrible 
 of the Gallic divinities, and the common people con- 
 sidered it as sacred as Irminsul himself. At the foot 
 of this sinister tree, whose projecting roots and trunk 
 were often sullied with blood, was a large stone table 
 upon which animals and human beings were sacrificed 
 Some of the ancient oaks bore rude trophies of weapons 
 and human heads — a sort of ex-voto offerings presented 
 by the believers in the fierce god of the sanctuary. 
 
 A large throng had already assembled when Dumorix 
 arrived. The most prominent persons present — that is, 
 the warriors, priests of every grade, heralds-at-arms 
 clothed in white with wands in their hands, and a few 
 women of the upper classes — formed picturesque groups 
 around Irminsul. The others— that is, the slaves, chil- 
 dren, and servants — remained modestly aloof. The deep- 
 est silence pervaded the throng. 
 
 Dumorix’s eyes sought Bodicea and his betrothed 
 bride. The widow was one of a group of matrons with 
 
THE AUSPICES. 
 
 223 
 
 bronze girdles and dishevelled locks, excited devotees, 
 who looked like Furies. Mona had joined the young 
 girls clothed in white and crowned with ivy, who, like 
 her, wore the long veil of the virgins. Dumorix, stand- 
 ing among the warriors, tried to attract her attention, 
 and succeeded ; but Mona looked at him with a glance 
 so sad, so full of terror, that in spite of his firm heart 
 he was greatly dismayed. 
 
 The principal ovate, who was to consult the omens, 
 sat on a bronze tripod, which was itself placed upon the 
 stone table at the foot of Irminsul’s tree. In a metal 
 chafing-dish before him incense was burning, whose 
 odorous smoke floated under the arcades of the forest. 
 Two ovates of inferior rank were preparing ta slaughter 
 a black ram, whose smoking entrails were to reveal the 
 will of the gods. 
 
 In the principal ovate Dumorix now recognized his 
 vanquished rival, but the simple, honest fellow saw 
 nothing in this fact to cause Ifis betrothed bride’s evi- 
 dent distress, and when the ceremony began tried to 
 approach her. 
 
 The bards drew a few notes from their instruments, 
 while all present chanted to a mournful rhythm an in- 
 vocation to Irminsul ; these songs were intended to be- 
 seech the god to give favorable omens. Then the two 
 inferior priests led the black ram to the ovate, who was 
 still seated on his tripod, and struck the victim a blow 
 on the throat with a bronze knife. The blood, which 
 flowed in streams, was received in a basin. The priest 
 bent forward to examine it, for the color of this blood, 
 its greater or less density, the direction of the jet, were 
 prophetic signs. Doubtless these signs were unfavor- 
 
224 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 able, for, the singers having paused, the ovate turned 
 his head, saying in a melancholy voice, 
 
 “ Woe ! woe ! woe !” 
 
 Consternation was depicted upon every face, and es- 
 pecially those of the dead chief’s relatives. Neverthe- 
 less, the most decisive omens would be drawn from the 
 examination of the victim’s entrails, and the throng 
 waited until the next auguries should confirm or refute 
 the first ones. 
 
 The ovate, with a stroke of his knife, opened the 
 ram’s belly, exposing its entrails. He carefully studied 
 the convolutions, color, and form, but again repeated in 
 the same tone, 
 
 “ Woe ! woe ! woe !” 
 
 The throng waited in silence. As the priest paused, 
 a warrior, the dead man’s son, suddenly approached. 
 
 “ Speak, priest of Irminsul !” said he ; “ what have 
 you discovered?” 
 
 “ Woe ! woe ! woe !” repeated the ovate for the third 
 time. 
 
 But Hatt’s son was not famous for patience. He 
 struck the ground with the handle of his spear. 
 
 “ Speak, then !” he cried ; “ what misfortune do you 
 announce ?” 
 
 The ovate appeared to be reflecting. 
 
 “ Hatt’s shade is angry,” he said at last in a solemn 
 tone, “ the victim’s entrails inform me that the chief 
 has not yet entered the land of the happy, where he 
 will command invisible warriors, slay stags and aurochs, 
 and find his friends and servants. His shade is still 
 wandering in the barren deserts that surround the coun- 
 try of departed souls.” 
 
THE AUSPICES. 
 
 225 
 
 “ It will wander no more when we have given Hatt’s 
 body a magnificent funeral,” replied the warrior im- 
 petuously ; “ so tell us quickly, priest of Irminsul, when 
 these ceremonies are to take place.” 
 
 “ To-morrow, at midnight, on the moor that stretches 
 behind the dolmen. Hatt, according to custom, shall 
 be buried with his weapons, and his war-horse shall 
 be slain on his tomb, that he may find him again in the 
 upper world.” 
 
 “ These are the usual rites,” said the warrior im- 
 patiently. “ But what victims must be slain ? Do you 
 want three white and three black bulls that have never 
 felt the yoke ?’* 
 
 The ovate, with an imposing gesture, extended his 
 arm, and with fixed eye and frowning brow, as if under 
 some supernatural inspiration, said in a low, deep voice, 
 not a single intonation of which was lost, 
 
 “ Son of Hatt, the blood of neither bulls nor rams 
 will appease - the terrible gods. Irminsul has been 
 Dffended by this tribe ; he will avenge himself on the 
 chief’s soul. Irminsul loves human blood. He de- 
 mands a human victim.” 
 
 All present held their breath to listen. 
 
 Hatt’s son was not at all moved by the requirement 
 of his savage god. 
 
 “ If Irminsul demands human blood, he shall have it,” 
 he answered rudely. “ I’ll give you a slave to be sac- 
 rificed on Hatt’s tomb.” 
 
 “ Irminsul desires no slave for a victim.” 
 
 “ What does he want, then ? A warrior ? In that 
 case I will offer myself as a sacrifice. If that is not 
 enough to disarm Irminsul’s anger, there is more than 
 
 p 
 
226 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 one brave man among my father’s subjects who will 
 consent to be slain on the chieftain’s tomb.” 
 
 “ I ! I !” instantly cried all the warriors present, with 
 the profound contempt for death universal among the 
 Gauls. 
 
 The ovate at first made no reply, but again bent down 
 to examine the animal’s entrails, and after a long silence 
 said, 
 
 “ Irminsul does not desire a warrior’s blood. War- 
 riors are destined to defend their native soil and the 
 revered religion of the Druids. He demands that a 
 young girl — a virgin, beautiful, and of noble birth — 
 should be brought to Hatt’s tomb, stoned to death by 
 the assembled tribe, and buried with the chief.” 
 
 A thrill of terror ran through the party of white- 
 veiled young girls, who formed a timid group in one 
 corner of the glade. 
 
 “ Explain yourself more clearly, ovate. Point out 
 the virgin who must be stoned to death on my father’s 
 tomb.” 
 
 “ The auguries do not state her name,” replied the 
 druid with downcast eyes ; “ but she must be a virgin, 
 of noble birth, the daughter of a widow, and the be- 
 trothed bride of a warrior.” 
 
 Although the ovate had not uttered the name of the 
 chosen victim, the signs were so numerous, so exact, 
 that they could not be mistaken. 
 
 “ It is Mona !” exclaimed voices on every side. 
 
 The unfortunate victim uttered a cry of agony, while 
 Bodicea said, 
 
 “ My daughter ? Irminsul claims my daughter ?” 
 
 Dumorix came forward into the circle. His eyes 
 
THE AUSPICES . 
 
 227 
 
 flashed with anger ; all the muscles of his face con- 
 tracted. 
 
 “ Ovate/' said he, “ you did not see the ram's entrails 
 aright; it is not Mona, my betrothed bride, that your 
 Irminsul demands. Irminsul loves the blood of brave 
 men; he disdains’ that of young girls. If your god 
 wants a victim, take me. I have already slain more 
 than one enemy; I am Dumorix son of Caletes, the 
 dead chief’s ‘friend.' Let Mona go, I tell you, and 
 take me. Stop ! shall I save you the trouble of killing 
 me ?” 
 
 He drew his sabre from its sheath and placed the 
 point at his breast. 
 
 The ovate smiled scornfully. 
 
 “ The signs are infallible,” said he. “ Once more, Ir- 
 minsul does not demand the blood of warriors. Retire, 
 and no longer disturb our sacred rites.” 
 
 “I will not permit my betrothed bride to be slain,” 
 cried Dumorix, frantic with rage. “ Priest of Irminsul, 
 you are an impostor ! You wished to marry Mona, and 
 it is because she did not offer you the cup — ” 
 
 This sacrilegious insult was an act so monstrous to 
 the fanatical tribe that a terrible tumult arose in the 
 assembly. The warriors crowded around Dumorix, 
 who would have rushed upon the ovate if they had 
 not held him back, but as they were his constant 
 companions, they used no violence and strove to calm 
 him by friendly exhortations. 
 
 At the other end of the open space, Mona, over- 
 whelmed with terror, continued to utter piercing 
 shrieks. We have spoken of the matrons with bronze 
 girdles, who formed a numerous group. These women, 
 
228 
 
 THE TEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 of whom Bodicea was one, had certain functions to per- 
 form in the religious ceremonies. When they ascer- 
 tained that Mona was designated by the omens, they 
 wished to seize her to keep her out of sight until the 
 moment of the sacrifice. The poor child clung to her 
 companions, who wept bitterly ; she called heaven and 
 earth to aid her, but the matrons rushed upon her. 
 
 “ Mother ! mother !” she cried struggling, “ help me ! # 
 I love Dumorix : I don’t want to die !” 
 
 This touching appeal did not produce the effect she 
 expected. Bodicea herself was a fanatic, and the inter- 
 ests of her religion were stronger than the feelings of 
 her heart. She answered harshly, though with averted 
 eyes, 
 
 “Your choice was fatal; Irminsul disapproved it. 
 Let his will be done.” 
 
 Such a reply was too much in harmony with the 
 habits and ideas of this barbarous generation not to 
 awaken universal assent ; it was applauded even by the 
 mothers. 
 
 As the matrons dragged Mona away she shrieked 
 despairingly, 
 
 “ Save me, Dumorix !” 
 
 At this very moment six strong men were trying to 
 conquer and disarm the powerful warrior. They were 
 on the point of succeeding when the accents of the 
 beloved imploring voice fell upon his ear. The young 
 giant suddenly appeared to gain supernatural strength. 
 Releasing himself by a tremendous effort, he rushed 
 toward Mona, who was disappearing in the gloomy 
 shades of the sacred wood, but in his frantic course 
 dashed against the trunk of a tree with so much vio- 
 
THE AUSPICES, 
 
 229 
 
 lence that but for the bronze helmet that protected his 
 head he would have broken his skull. Stunned by the 
 shock, he staggered back, and his companions profited 
 by the opportunity to seize him again. 
 
 Fortunately, as we have said, Dumorix was beloved 
 and esteemed, or in the fierce struggle he would have 
 run great risk of receiving a thrust from a spear or 
 „ sabre-stroke from one of the angry warriors. They 
 contented themselves with removing his arms and 
 making him powerless until the group of women who 
 were dragging Mona away had vanished. This mod- 
 eration, then very rare among the Gauls, was especial- 
 ly due to the influence of Hatt’s son, who was familiar 
 with Dumorix’s noble qualities. 
 
 The ceremony of the auguries was over and the crowd 
 dispersed. The ovate had left the place, and doubtless 
 gone to some secluded spot to enjoy the delight of sat- 
 isfied vengeance. No one remained except the warriors 
 guarding Dumorix. 
 
 Hatt’s son then said, 
 
 “ Dumorix, my father loved you because you are brave 
 and faithful. Do not obstinately enter into a sacrilegious 
 struggle against the gods. Take back your weapons; if 
 you dare disturb Hatt’s funeral ceremonies you shall die 
 yourself. Go !” 
 
 And he went away a few paces with his companions. 
 
 Dumorix, whether because he was still bewildered by 
 the terrible shock or absorbed in profound thought, re- 
 mained silent. Yet he hastily seized his sword, spear, 
 and buckler, and when he found himself armed once 
 more cast a threatening glance around him, and his 
 companions thought he was going to renew the con- 
 20 
 
230 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 flict. But after a moment’s reflection he walked slowly 
 toward a path that led to his hut. 
 
 They followed him with their eyes, as if still fearing 
 some desperate attempt on his part, but he did not even 
 turn, and his comrades felt convinced that he had given 
 up all useless resistance. 
 
 Nevertheless, Mona’s lover, while gliding through the 
 gloomy arcades of the forest, said to himself, 
 
 “ To-morrow — at midnight — on the moor by the dol- 
 men ! I will save her, or there shall be two human 
 victims slain on the chieftain’s tomb,” 
 
IV. 
 
 THE APPARITION. 
 
 D URING the remainder of this day and the follow- 
 ing one Dumorix seemed to avoid all intercourse 
 with the inhabitants of the village. He occupied a sol- 
 itary hut on the bank of the Seine, and, accustomed to 
 rely upon himself, had little intercourse with his neigh- 
 bors. During these two days the people wandering 
 about the country saw him several times in the dis- 
 tance, either in his boat on the river or mounted on a 
 powerful horse which he had trained to obey his voice. 
 He seemed to be loaded with somewhat bulky articles, 
 which could not be distinguished at that distance, and 
 it was asserted that the young warrior continued his 
 occupation even during the night. But as the people 
 could not believe Dumorix had any serious intention 
 of resisting the entire tribe, they troubled themselves 
 no more about him, and each thought only of making 
 his preparations for the funeral ceremony. 
 
 This was to take place, it will be remembered, on the 
 moor near the dolmen. Long before midnight, the hour 
 fixed for the commencement of the obsequies, the in- 
 habitants of the village, holding lighted torches in their 
 hands, moved toward the plain. The chief’s body, cloth - 
 
 231 
 
232 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 ed in his handsomest garments, soon followed the same 
 path, borne, according to ancient custom, on a litter of 
 branches by six warriors chosen from among the bravest 
 of the tribe. Next came the dead man’s relatives and 
 friends, uttering at intervals the wails and lamentations 
 which continued to form part of the mortuary rites. 
 
 A grave had been dug in the moor not far from a 
 thick wood which was a portion of the Druid forest. 
 This grave had a lining of rough, uncemented stones, 
 and by the side were several large slabs to cover it when 
 the dead man had been placed within, together with a 
 huge pile of small stones collected from the neighboring 
 fields. These were to be thrown on the tomb to form 
 a heap or cairn ; and we know that they were intended 
 for another and more terrible purpose. Near the sep- 
 ulchre was a huge funeral pyre adorned with garlands 
 of flowers and foliage, upon which the body of the 
 lamented chief was reverently laid. 
 
 The moor was soon thronged with people. The night 
 was very dark, but by the light of the torches numerous 
 groups were speedily formed. On one side were the 
 women, on another the warriors, farther on the grave 
 old men; people of lower rank eagerly rushed wherever 
 there was anything to be seen. At this period funeral 
 banquets had not yet been given up, and in one cor- 
 ner of the moor slaves could be seen crowded around 
 a fire, as if preparing a feast. 
 
 Of all these groups, the most noisy was that com- 
 posed of the matrons we already know ; they moved 
 to and fro incessantly, shaking the brazen circlets that 
 loaded their arms and limbs, and uttering shrill shrieks 
 that echoed on the silence of the night. It was not 
 
THE APPARITION. 
 
 233 
 
 only in obedience to custom that these Megaeras made 
 such a tumult ; they surrounded poor Mona, whom 
 they had dressed in her finest clothes and most beauti- 
 ful jewels, and the principal object of their clamor was 
 to prevent her lamentations from being heard. 
 
 Mona wailed constantly at the sight of the terrible 
 preparations. Her jailers had forced her to sit down on 
 the moor, and watched her every movement with jeal- 
 ous suspicion. In vain she implored them — in vain she 
 appealed to her mother, who, carried away by super- 
 stition, not only remained deaf to her prayers, but 
 gloried in the sacrifice to be made. Mona did not yet 
 " seem to have given up all hope of rescue by her lover 
 Dumorix ; she sought him with her eyes, called him 
 with all her strength. Dumorix made no reply ; he 
 had not even appeared in the throng, and doubtless, 
 convinced of his powerlessness to prevent an inev- 
 itable catastrophe, had left the village. 
 
 Everything was ready for the ceremony, but it could 
 not commence before the precise hour appointed by the 
 augurs. The ovate, who was present with his subordi- 
 nates and the bards, studied the starry heavens, wait- 
 ing until the course of the planets should announce 
 the arrival of midnight ; and the extensive knowledge 
 of astronomy possessed by the Druids afforded him 
 the means of determining the moment with precision. 
 
 At last the hour came, and the ovate, taking a torch, 
 advanced toward the funeral pyre, on which lay the 
 body of the chief. Deep silence pervaded the throng 
 of spectators, and nothing was heard save Mona’s low 
 moans. The druid touched with his torch the com- 
 bustible materials placed at the foot of the pile. A 
 20* 
 
234 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 little flame flashed up ; the dry branches crackled. 
 The fire rapidly increased, and, rising above the corpse, 
 formed a vast sheet that paled the light of the torches 
 and illuminated the crowd, the fields, the forests, the 
 river with a shifting glare almost equal to the broad 
 light of day. 
 
 Then the wails began anew with fresh vigor. Blended 
 with this terrible concert was the noise of sabres which 
 the warriors clashed against their bucklers, while the 
 bards, accompanying themselves on their instruments, 
 sang the dead chief’s praises and the joys of the happy 
 life upon which he was about to enter. 
 
 At the moment the corpse disappeared in the flames, 
 whence there exhaled a fetid black smoke, the throng 
 began to cast their offerings on the pyre. The priests 
 delivered to the fire incense, bread, and wax ; the 
 women their bracelets, necklaces, ornaments of bone, 
 glass, or bronze ; the warriors their weapons — swords 
 and lances, bows and bucklers. Among these offer- 
 ings made to death were stone tools and axes, though 
 offensive arms were already fashioned of bronze or iron, 
 with the exception of the arrow-heads, still formed of 
 flint as in former times. Everything, however, was not 
 cast into the flames ; a large number of articles were 
 reserved to be thrown at the last moment into the 
 grave with the dead man’s ashes or even mingled with 
 the earth that was to cover the tomb. 
 
 The flames of the funeral pyre, after having risen to 
 a great height, rapidly fell, and soon nothing but a vast 
 red brazier remained. The corpse was not entirely con- 
 sumed, and the outline could still be plainly distin- 
 guished; but the tombs of that period show that ere- 
 
THE APPARITION. 
 
 235 
 
 mation was still very imperfect, and it was considered 
 advisable not to carry combustion further. The priests 
 and servants therefore began to remove the hot coals ; 
 the half-calcined body was pushed toward the grave, 
 and the bones that crumbled to dust were collected 
 in earthen vessels. These vessels, together with all 
 the objects not destroyed by fire, were placed in the 
 grave, into which were cast more axes, weapons, and 
 jewels. 
 
 According to the usual rites, there would have been 
 nothing more to do except close the tomb, but the 
 terrible sentence pronounced against Dumorix’s affi- 
 anced bride remained to be executed. The hapless 
 young girl was to be stoned to death and buried with 
 the warrior.* 
 
 The crowd had become perfectly silent, and all eyes 
 were turned toward the group of women who sur- 
 rounded Mona. The young girl herself soon appeared; 
 she moved with slow steps, supported by the matrons. 
 As we have said, she was carefully adorned. A garland 
 of vervain, a plant held sacred by the Druids, fastened 
 her virgin’s veil, which was not whiter than her face. 
 Mona did not attempt to resist or fly ; tottering, be- 
 wildered, she no longer had even strength to implore 
 pity. Besides, to whom could she have appealed? 
 One of the matrons who supported her, and whose 
 office seemed rather to guard than aid her, was her 
 own mother. 
 
 This circumstance, which according to our modern 
 ideas should have excited universal reprobation, pro- 
 
 * Horrible as such a deed may be, we know from the examination of 
 numerous tombs that it frequently occurred at this epoch. 
 
236 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T OR/C WORLD . 
 
 duced no impression upon the assembly. Contempt 
 of death and religious fanaticism were so powerful 
 that, far from blaming Bodicea’s unnatural stoicism, 
 all seemed disposed to admire, and if necessary imi- 
 tate, it. 
 
 Mona thus reached the centre of the circle, where 
 a few torches and the last embers of the funeral pyre 
 shed an uncertain light. Everywhere were menacing 
 faces, angry eyes. When she reached the edge of the 
 grave she was obliged to pause ; her jailer said a few 
 words in a low tone, and her mother even had the 
 melancholy courage to kiss her on the forehead in 
 sign of farewell. But Mona neither felt the kiss nor 
 heard the words they uttered. The two women hastily 
 retired, and she remained standing, trembling, dismay- 
 ed, seeming as if she still doubted the terrible reality 
 of her position. 
 
 The crowd had rushed to the heap of stones, and 
 each individual seized the nearest one. But ere dealing 
 the innocent victim the first blow all waited for the ovate 
 to give the signal of martyrdom. 
 
 The ovate was in no hurry to put an end to the som- 
 bre tragedy. He gazed with cruel satisfaction at the 
 poor girl who had. rejected him; he gloated over her 
 humiliation, her suffering, her terror. Perhaps he hoped 
 Mona would make an appeal to him, and in this case 
 would have found still further pleasure in scornfully 
 rejecting it. His expectation was vain ; Mona did not 
 seem to think of speaking to or even looking at him. 
 She no longer noticed the fanatics of every age and 
 both sexes who with stones in their hands were pre- 
 paring for her execution. The druid was about to let 
 
THE APPARITION. 
 
 237 
 
 loose this pitiless band, when Mona, her head drooping 
 on her breast, said in a stifled tone, 
 
 “ O Dumorix ! for whom I suffer, you too have aban- 
 doned me !” 
 
 The reproach, though it could have been heard only 
 by those who stood nearest, seemed to produce a won- 
 derful effect. A loud hoarse cry, like the roar of a lion, 
 echoed from the wood of which we have spoken, and 
 which was scarcely fifty paces from the funeral pile. 
 The spectators started as they saw a mounted warrior 
 emerge from amid the foliage and dash like a thunder- 
 bolt toward the throng. 
 
 The horse moved noiselessly over the moor, and the 
 warrior who bestrode it could scarcely be distinguished 
 in his headlong course through the gloom. This war- 
 rior, whose gigantic form and lofty helmet were clearly 
 relieved against the sky, brandished a naked sabre which 
 emitted tawny, flashes of light. He guided, apparently 
 by a mere effort of his will, the fiery steed, which had 
 neither saddle nor bridle, and bounded forward with 
 dilated nostrils and mane streaming in the wind. 
 
 Besides, the spectators had only a few seconds to notice 
 horse and rider. They were stupefied with astonishment ; 
 blind superstition led them to think they beheld some 
 supernatural vision ; it was certainly a god who had 
 suddenly appeared under circumstances so extraordi- 
 nary. Amazement, reverence, and terror prevented 
 them from making a movement, uttering a cry. 
 
 Yet the apparition was a reality, and proof of the fact 
 was speedily given. The horse dashed with unprece- 
 dented violence upon the motionless crowd, overthrow- 
 ing and crushing all in its path, while the rider with 
 
238 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 unutterable fury struck down with his sabre every one 
 that opposed him. A wide passage was instantly opened 
 in the crowded ranks. The wounded uttered piteous 
 cries ; the ovate himself, overthrown by a blow in the 
 chest, lay struggling and screaming on the ground, 
 without regard for his dignity. 
 
 No one thought of resisting, nor even defending him- 
 self; religious fear had frozen every heart. The myste- 
 rious horseman entered the circle, where, in spite of the 
 darkness, Mona was recognized without difficulty by her 
 white garments. The steed, obeying the pressure of its 
 master’s knees, approached the young girl and suddenly 
 stopped. The stranger bent forward and seizing Mona 
 with one hand placed her before him, while with the 
 other he brandished his terrible sabre. Then he urged 
 his horse to a tremendous leap that carried it ten paces 
 away, and again guided it over the moor. Steed and 
 rider were soon lost in the gloom with Mona, who still 
 uttered low moans. 
 
 All this had occurred so rapidly that no one, we re- 
 peat, had had time to reflect and oppose this sacrilegious 
 violence. The stranger was allowed to fly with his prey 
 without any attempt at pursuit. When he had vanished 
 the throng still remained bewildered for a moment. 
 
 One of the spectators said in an agitated tone, 
 
 “A god has descended while we were celebrating 
 Hatt’s funeral rites. It is undoubtedly Teutates, the 
 inventor of the arts, the god whom the chief adored. ,, 
 
 “ No, it is Esus himself, the god of war and battles,’ 1 
 said another; “his eyes were like two furnaces, his sabre 
 flashed like a fiery sword.” 
 
 “And why,” cried Hatt’s son, “should it not be my 
 
THE APPARITION, 
 
 239 
 
 father's shade descended from the land of souls to seek 
 the victim he desired ? His tall figure, imposing air, and 
 warlike ardor leave no room for mistake. It was Hatt, 
 my brave father." 
 
 This artless belief was shared by a number of per- 
 sons. 
 
 “ Yes, yes, it was Hatt/ our chief," cried several of the 
 throng. 
 
 “It was the warrior Dumorix," said a new voice; 
 “may he be accursed!" 
 
 At the same moment the ovate, who, wounded and 
 covered with bruises, had just risen, came limping for- 
 ward. 
 
 “Yes, yes, it’s Dumorix !" repeated the bard, who had 
 himself received a kick from the horse; “shame and woe 
 to this scorner of the gods, druids, and bards!" 
 
 This statement from the two most prominent persons 
 in the assembly gave a new turn to public opinion, and 
 the people looked at each other in bewilderment. 
 
 Under any other circumstances the ovate, with the 
 usual craft of his class, would have taken advantage of 
 the opportunity to recognize a divine interposition, a 
 supernatural apparition. But at this moment he was 
 too much irritated by his own mischance, too impatient 
 to avenge himself, to conceal the truth. He energetic- 
 ally continued, 
 
 “ Children of Irminsul, this time neither the gods nor 
 the souls of the dead have manifested themselves to 
 you ; this warrior was a mortal, the impious Dumorix, 
 who, urged on by his love for Bodicea’s daughter, 
 wished to snatch her from the chief. Why was he 
 not struck lifeless by a thunderbolt while performing his 
 
240 
 
 THE P RE- HIS TORIC WORLD. 
 
 sacrilegious deed ? Why did not the earth open to 
 swallow the madman who has violated the majesty of 
 the gods, outraged the manes of the dead, assailed the 
 sacred authority of the druids ?” 
 
 An outburst of furious cries and curses hailed these 
 words. The ovate again commanded silence, and pro- 
 nounced against the guilty man the Druids’ excom- 
 munication, which was as formidable as the Christian 
 excommunication of the Middle Ages. 
 
 “ Dumorix son of Caletes,” said he in a terrible voice, 
 “ is the enemy of gods and men. Let him be accursed 
 in his body and his limbs ; let him be accursed in his 
 father, his mother, and all his ancestors ; in the chil- 
 dren who shall be born to him, and his children’s chil- 
 dren to the most distant generation. Let him be re- 
 fused water, fire, and light ; let no one lend him aid, ap- 
 proach, or speak to him, save to curse and strike him. 
 After his death let him remain unburied, to be devoured 
 by the dogs and ravens, and his soul, instead of enter- 
 ing the better world; animate for long ages the bodies of 
 the vilest and most unclean animals ; let it pass into the 
 clumsy toad, the pig that wallows in the mire, the noi- 
 some insect we crush under foot. And let all who love 
 him, aid him, touch him, address any other words to him 
 save those of insult or menace, be accursed like him — 
 accursed in their persons and families until their lineage 
 is for ever exterminated !” 
 
 This anathema had been heard in silence by the spec- 
 tators. As they remained overwhelmed with horror, the 
 ovate continued : 
 
 “ Why do you delay to punish this unprecedented 
 crime ? The guilty man is flying with his accomplice, 
 
THE APPARITION. 
 
 24I 
 
 who, like him, is accursed : will you let them escape ? 
 Warriors, to your arms, to your horses ! Follow these 
 bold profaners of sacred things, seize them, and we 
 shall worthily close the chiefs funeral rites by sacrifi- 
 cing both upon his tomb. To your horses, I tell you ! 
 Irminsul demands blood ; Hatt’s manes claim their vic- 
 tims. He who dies for this sacred cause will be cover- 
 ed with immortal glory and triumphantly enter the 
 realm of the blest.” 
 
 This fierce appeal roused the audience to frenzy. The 
 warriors began to rush to and fro, uttering frantic cries, 
 and dispersed to find traces of Dumorix. 
 
 But much time had been lost and the night was very 
 dark; besides, the horses were away in the enclosed 
 parks. A tolerably long period would elapse ere they 
 could engage in the pursuit. 
 
 Therefore it will arouse no surprise to learn that the 
 most active and patient search remained unavailing. In 
 vain horsemen and pedestrians rushed to Dumorix’s 
 hut, to all the dwellings where he might have found 
 refuge ; in vain, holding lighted torches, did they beat 
 the avenues of the forest, the groves, the banks of the 
 Seine : no discovery was made. Dumorix, his bride, 
 and the horse that bore them seemed to have vanished 
 like phantoms. One of the warriors declared that he 
 had heard a distant plashing in the river; but it was 
 considered impossible that a horse loaded with the 
 weight of two persons could have crossed the Seine, 
 which in this place was very deep; and the warrior 
 at last believed he had been mistaken. 
 
 When the crowd again assembled on the moor around 
 the chief’s open grave the first light of dawn was just 
 21 Q 
 
242 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 appearing. Now, the rites of the Druid worship were 
 always performed during the night, and it was im- 
 portant to close the funeral ceremony as soon as pos- 
 sible. The priest, deeply enraged by the failure of 
 the pursuit, would have preferred to wait still longer, 
 but Hatt’s son, who had arrived covered with perspira- 
 tion and dust, said rudely, 
 
 “ Ovate, my father’s remains cannot rest exposed to 
 profanation. The stars are beginning to pale, the sky 
 is growing white toward the east. Let us hasten to 
 pay the chief the last honors according to the sacred 
 forms. It is impossible for the present to sacrifice 
 upon his tomb the young virgin designated by the 
 augurs. But I swear by Irminsul, by Teutates, by all 
 the gods whom we revere, that I will not return to my 
 hut until I have slain Dumorix and Mona. I will kill 
 them unless I am slain myself, and then no doubt my 
 soul will join my father’s.” 
 
 These vows were very common among the Gauls. 
 The ovate, knowing the warrior’s strength, courage, 
 and obstinacy, said in a tone of satisfaction, 
 
 “ Son of Hatt, gods and men have heard your oath. 
 You shall keep it, for your father’s glory and your 
 own.” 
 
 Then the obsequies were hastily concluded, the slabs 
 intended to close the grave were placed over it ; each 
 of the spectators took a stone and laid it on the mound. 
 These stones formed a pile which when covered with 
 earth were to make a very different kind of tumulus 
 from those left us by the primitive races. 
 
 Thanks to the number and activity of the laborers, 
 the work advanced very rapidly. When the mound 
 
THE .APPARITION. 
 
 243 
 
 reached a certain height two slaves approached, leading 
 with great difficulty a magnificent black horse which 
 had formerly belonged to the chief. The fiery animal 
 reared,* raising from the ground the grooms who clung 
 to its mane. Nevertheless, it was brought to the foot 
 of the mound, where a blow, dealt with the skill of the 
 ancient sacrificers, laid it on its master’s tomb, watering 
 the earth with its blood. 
 
 The still palpitating body was left in this spot to 
 serve as food for the dogs, wolves, and birds of prey ; 
 then the throng assembled for the funeral feast, which 
 was the last ceremony. 
 
 Everything was concluded at the moment the rays 
 of the rising sun were reflected in the waves of the 
 river, and the throng divided into little groups which 
 silently regained their habitations. 
 
 Hatt’s son did not think of returning home. He 
 gave his relatives and friends certain directions, after 
 which, alone, without other weapons than his spear, 
 huge Celtic sword, and buckler, he walked toward the 
 river, studying with the sagacity of the red-skin and 
 hunter the horse’s hoof-prints, which proceeded in this 
 direction. 
 
 He was beginning to fulfil the vow he had made not 
 to cross the threshold of his dwelling until he had slain 
 Dumorix and Mona. 
 
V. 
 
 THE PIROGUE . 
 
 I T will be remembered that Dumorix, in spite of his 
 youth, had had a very stormy life ; so he was accus- 
 tomed in the most difficult cases to rely entirely upon 
 himself. After the ceremony of the augurs he had ar- 
 ranged a plan for Mona’s deliverance which he hastened 
 to put into execution, and had employed the preceding 
 day and night in making certain arrangements whose 
 results we shall soon know. During the funeral rites 
 he had remained concealed in the wood adjoining the 
 burial-place, watching for an opportunity to accomplish 
 his bold design, and we know by what combination of 
 circumstances he had the good fortune to succeed. 
 
 When he had snatched Mona from the assembled tribe, 
 the poor child, who was more dead than alive, could not 
 clearly understand what had happened. Borne away at 
 headlong speed, she closed her eyes and gave herself up 
 to her fate, wondering if she were in the power of a man 
 or some supernatural being. Yet, as she felt that she 
 was gently and carefully supported, she gradually gained 
 courage, and at last opened her eyes. It was too dark 
 to recognize the horseman, but a sort of instinct did not 
 allow her to mistake. 
 
 244 
 
THE PIROGUE . 
 
 245 
 
 “ Dumorix,” she murmured, “ is it really you ?” 
 
 The warrior stooped until his tawny moustache touch- 
 ed the young girl’s pale forehead. 
 
 “ Mona,” he said eagerly, “ they shall not have you.” 
 
 “ Very well,” she replied. “ My mother has renounced 
 me; I have neither relatives, friends, nor nation. Keep 
 me ; I was already your wife.” 
 
 “ I will keep you. They shall not have you,” Dumorix 
 repeated. 
 
 At this moment they reached the river, and at a word 
 from its master the horse instantly plunged into the 
 water. Considering the width and depth of the Seine 
 at this point, it seemed impossible, as the Gauls of 
 Argenteuil had thought, for a horse loaded with the 
 weight of two persons to cross it. But Dumorix better 
 appreciated his noble steed ; in a moment the powerful 
 animal was swimming, crossing the stream in a straight 
 line to reach the opposite bank. 
 
 Mona, suddenly feeling the chill of the water, could 
 not restrain a shriek; a slight pressure from Dumorix’s 
 arm warned her that silence was absolutely necessary, 
 and she made no further sound. In fact, numerous 
 lights were flitting along the bank they had just left, 
 and eager voices could be distinctly heard. 
 
 In spite of the difficulty of the task, the horse soon 
 reached the other shore, but after having gained the 
 bank, without stopping to take breath, dashed off at a 
 gallop through the country, leaving a wet trail behind. 
 
 They were in the plain which extends between the 
 wide curves of the river, and was afterward to be called 
 Gennevilliers. The land was already partially culti- 
 vated; lowing and bleating betrayed the presence i-f 
 21 * 
 
246 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 flocks. Dumorix knew the inhabited places, and 
 avoided them. His horse galloped noiselessly across 
 the fields. Although the fugitives had put the Seine 
 between them and the Gauls of Argenteuil, they could 
 not give up all precaution, for they expected to be 
 fiercely pursued. 
 
 They crossed the plain obliquely to reach the spot, 
 then a solitude, where thousands of years later the vil- 
 lage of Asnieres was to stand. There the river again 
 appeared. Mona, who had regained her presence of 
 mind, supposed they were to cross in the same way 
 as before; but Dumorix stopped his horse, placed the 
 young girl, shivering in her dripping garments, on her 
 feet, and sprang to the ground himself. 
 
 The horse, relieved of its double burden, stood 
 motionless with dilated eyes and ears erect, as if ex- 
 pecting new orders from its master. The latter patted 
 the half- savage animal, and said in a tone of deep 
 emotion, “ Your work is finished ; go ! We shall never 
 see each other again. But your body is doubtless an- 
 imated by the soul of a brave and loyal warrior* who 
 has committed some sin. May the gods protect you !” 
 
 At the same time he uttered an exclamation whose 
 meaning the animal clearly understood. Neighing 
 joyously, it suddenly wheeled and set out at full gal- 
 lop, doubtless to reach the pastures where it usually 
 grazed. 
 
 “ Perhaps we may need the horse again, Dumorix,” 
 said Mona timidly. “ I am very weak to walk, espe- 
 cially if we are to take a long journey.” 
 
 * It will be remembered that the Gauls of this period believed in the 
 transmigration of souls. 
 
THE PIROGUE . 
 
 247 
 
 The warrior raised her in his arms. 
 
 “ Dear Mona,” he replied, “ we shall be pursued, and 
 a horse leaves hoof-prints ; we must take another way 
 to reach the retreat I have chosen.” 
 
 “ I am yours,” murmured the young girl, resting her 
 head on the warrior’s shoulder. “ It matters little 
 where we go, provided you do not leave me.” 
 
 The shore of the river was overgrown with reeds, 
 amid which Dumorix walked, undisturbed by the water 
 that reached halfway up his legs. Suddenly a low 
 growl, like that which precedes the baying of a large 
 dog, issued from the moving tufts. Dumorix hastily 
 cried, 
 
 “ Down, Astor ! down ! It is I.” 
 
 At the same time he found, concealed amid the grass, 
 a long, heavy boat, made of a single log like those of 
 former days, and placed Mona in it. The pirogue was 
 filled with provisions and utensils of every description, 
 as well as several bear and auroch skins, which were 
 very precious to the young girl, who was chilled by 
 the cold. The whole- was under the charge of Astor, 
 and a sight of the animal’s huge head and formidable 
 teeth was enough to convince any one that it would 
 not have been prudent to approach him in his master’s 
 absence. 
 
 Dumorix carefully placed his betrothed bride upon 
 the soft skins and wrapped her warmly in them ; then 
 he took the oars, and after convincing himself that the 
 deepest silence reigned around him, pushed his boat 
 out from among the rushes. 
 
 He soon found himself in the centre of the river, and 
 began to ascend the stream. Unfortunately, the current 
 
248 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 was strong, and in spite of the rower’s strength the 
 pirogue, clumsy and heavily loaded, did not make 
 rapid progress. Besides, Dumorix sometimes forgot 
 to labor at the oars to gaze by moonlight at his charm- 
 ing companion. She was perfectly calm, and thanked 
 him by a look, a smile, or a loving word. Yielding 
 to emotion and fatigue, she at last fell asleep, and Du- 
 morix, well aware of the value of this slumber, thought 
 of nothing but rowing with all his might. 
 
 Several hours elapsed, and when the first light of 
 dawn appeared, Dumorix was a long distance from the 
 spot he had chosen for a retreat. He feared nothing 
 for himself, but Mona’s presence made him timid, and 
 the boat could have been seen from either shore in a 
 region so near the village. He continued to row up 
 the river as long as the darkness allowed him to glide 
 along unperceived beneath the shadow of the high 
 banks, but as day dawned thought seriously of finding 
 a hiding-place. 
 
 Just at that moment they were passing a long narrow 
 island covered with brushwood and bordered with wil- 
 lows. Dumorix noticed a little bay, at one end of 
 which the current had hollowed out the bank. In this 
 natural grotto he concealed his boat and all it contain- 
 ed. As a further precaution he cut branches from the 
 willows and formed an arbor over the pirogue. Thus 
 it could not be seen from the shore, and any one who 
 passed would have noticed nothing but a clump of 
 foliage. This ruse, adopted by the American Indians, 
 protected the young lovers from any surprise, and 
 they could wait in this spot till the return of night 
 should allow them to continue their voyage. 
 
THE PIROGUE. 
 
 249 
 
 So, having finished their work, they prepared to 
 spend the day quietly. Mona, revived by a few hours' 
 rest, had regained her courage, and even her cheerful- 
 ness. Her clothes were dry ; the sun’s rays, gliding 
 through the leafy screen, warmed her thoroughly. The 
 young couple began to breakfast upon the provisions 
 contained in the pirogue, and seemed to have no further 
 thought of the dangers they had just escaped or those 
 to which they were still exposed. 
 
 Suddenly, Astor, lying at his master’s feet, uttered the 
 low growl that usually preceded his bark. Dumorix 
 hastily laid his hand on the animal’s huge head to 
 silence him, for some one was approaching. While 
 peering through the trees to discover who the trouble- 
 some wanderer might be, some one on the opposite 
 bank uttered the peculiar cry the Gauls were in the 
 habit of using when they wished to communicate some 
 piece of news. 
 
 We have stated with what rapidity, thanks to this 
 custom, events were transmitted through the country. 
 Tidings flew from lip to lip for more than fifty leagues 
 in a few hours. 
 
 But the shepherds could not now have any piece of 
 news to communicate that would interest the neighbor- 
 ing tribes ; the matter in question was doubtless some 
 local event which concerned only the inhabitants of 
 the neighborhood. Dumorix soon distinguished the 
 person who had uttered the cry standing on the op- 
 posite bank. He was an old shepherd, who had no 
 garments except a pair of goat -skin breeches, and 
 stood leaning on a spear with a flint head. The man 
 with whom he wished to communicate, and who had 
 
250 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 answered in the usual manner, was invisible, but doubt- 
 less he too was a shepherd. 
 
 Dumorix signed to Mona to listen. A voice shouted 
 slowly, with peculiar intonations, which made each 
 word distinctly audible, 
 
 “ At the chief’s funeral Dumorix the warrior carried 
 Mona away, wounded several persons, and overthrew 
 the ovate himself. Hatt’s son has set out in pursuit, 
 and sworn not to return to his hut until he has slain 
 Dumorix and Mona.” 
 
 The first shepherd paused, and the second, after hav- 
 ing made a sign to show that the message had been 
 understood, went away to repeat it in another direc- 
 tion. 
 
 Dumorix was not all disturbed by tidings that touch- 
 ed him so nearly, but Mona seemed greatly terrified, and 
 as soon as she dared to speak said, 
 
 “ Did you hear, Dumorix? Hatt’s son is a brave 
 warrior, and is seeking us to kill us both.” 
 
 The young giant smiled, and, passing his hand over 
 Mona’s fair tresses, answered with artless sincerity, 
 
 “ Hatt’s son will not find us ; and if he does, brave as 
 he may be, I shall kill him!' 
 
 Such was Mona’s confidence in her husband’s cour- 
 age, strength, and skill that she did not doubt his word, 
 and appeared entirely reassured. 
 
 The day passed far more pleasantly to the two young 
 people than would have been supposed possible in their 
 perilous position. They slept a great deal, for Dumo- 
 rix was to have a hard task at rowing during the fol- 
 lowing night, and while they slumbered Astor kept 
 faithful watch. 
 
THE PIROGUE . 
 
 251 
 
 Nothing else disturbed the quiet of the solitary spot 
 Certain portions of the country were completely desert- 
 ed. Here and there was a shepherd watching his flocks 
 or a laborer making furrows with a rude plough. The 
 roads, on which a clumsy wain drawn by oxen some- 
 times appeared, were scarcely visible. A few boats, it 
 is true, passed near the pirogue, but the rowers’ only 
 care was to advance as fast as possible with their load 
 at a period when traffic was carried on entirely by 
 water. 
 
 When twilight began to fall Dumorix removed the 
 branches that concealed the boat, and taking the oars 
 rowed vigorously up the stream. 
 
 The whole night passed without his reaching the end 
 of the voyage. Hour after hour, Mona, who slept 
 lightly on her couch of skins, raised her head and 
 asked, 
 
 “ Have we arrived ?” 
 
 Dumorix always answered, 
 
 “ Not yet, beloved : sleep in peace.” 
 
 At last, as darkness was again giving place to dawn, 
 they reached a spot where four or five islands of dif- 
 ferent sizes interrupted the current of the Seine. The 
 largest, covered with trees and underbrush, was after- 
 ward to be the site of the city of Paris, and was shaped, 
 it is said, like a ship. 
 
 Toward this Dumorix turned, and ran through the 
 narrow passage, choked with aquatic plants, mud, and 
 slime. Opposite stretched the vast marshes of Bievre, 
 which we have already mentioned, and which Labienus, 
 Caesar’s lieutenant, could not cross. On the other side 
 of the river were more marshes, scarcely less extensive, 
 
252 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 formed by the meeting of several streams. The neigh- 
 boring country was then uninhabited and almost unin- 
 habitable. With the exception of a few huts built 
 among the chestnut trees on the side of Mont Lucoti- 
 tius, to find any numerous population one would have 
 been obliged to go to Argenteuil or Varenne Saint- 
 Hilaire, where within a short time traces of a village 
 dating back to the Stone Age have been discovered. 
 
 Dumorix rowed his boat into a hollow in the shore 
 among the rushes. Mona, perceiving that they had at 
 last reached the spot where they were to find rest and 
 safety, sprang nimbly to the bank and began to look 
 eagerly around her. 
 
 As we have said, the island was covered with large 
 trees and dense thickets ; at the first glance it seemed 
 impossible to penetrate this virgin forest. The edge 
 was protected by heaps of dry rushes, brambles, and 
 briers, to which still clung, at a certain height, tufts of 
 grass that had been left by recent inundations. The 
 scene did not appear very attractive, and Bodicea’s 
 daughter could not restrain a slight grimace at sight 
 of this inhospitable solitude. 
 
 Dumorix did not notice it, and loaded Mona with 
 various articles. He himself took a burden three or 
 four times heavier, without counting his weapons ; then, 
 leaving the pirogue and the remainder of its contents 
 under the care of his dog, he invited his companion to 
 follow him. 
 
 He soon found in the thicket a winding path that 
 seemed familiar to him, and it had certainly required a 
 special instinct to discover it amid the tall grass. The 
 two young people’s clothes were speedily drenched by 
 
THE PIROGUE . 253 
 
 the dew showered liberally upon them, but they dis- 
 turbed themselves very little about so trifling an incon- 
 venience, and continued to penetrate into the heart of 
 the woods, where only the faint warbling of birds dis- 
 turbed the majestic silence. 
 
 22 
 
V!. 
 
 THE SOLITUDE . 
 
 FTER walking several minutes, Dumorix and 
 
 Mona reached an open space almost in the centre 
 of the island. This clearing was small, but the ground 
 seemed high enough to be above the reach of inunda- 
 tions. Ancient trees with projecting roots surrounded 
 it like a rampart. At the foot of one of these trees was 
 a very ancient, dilapidated Gallic hut, which seemed to 
 have been long since abandoned. The roof, however, 
 had recently been repaired with rushes, but no one had 
 thought of stopping the holes in the wall with clay, 
 and the worm-eaten door was falling to pieces. Near 
 this ruin were traces of a little enclosure or garden, 
 which must have lain waste for many years. 
 
 Let us hasten to say that Dumorix, while pursuing a 
 wounded stag across the isle one day, had discovered 
 this hermitage. Who was the solitary misanthrope 
 that had formerly built his dwelling in this desolate 
 spot ? Had he died of old age or accident ? Had he 
 left his hut with the hope of returning to it ? No one 
 knew. But the habitation evidently no longer had a 
 master, and the few articles of furniture it still con- 
 
 254 
 
THE SOLITUDE . 
 
 255 
 
 tained were useless. On learning, two days before, of 
 the danger that threatened his dear Mona, Dumorix 
 thought of taking her, after having rescued her, to this 
 unknown spot. He had come there the night before on 
 his horse to bring certain indispensable articles and be- 
 gin the repairs most urgently required. The rest of his 
 wealth had been put in his boat and taken to the site 
 of Asnieres, to avoid too long a voyage on the Seine. 
 We have seen the success of his plan. 
 
 Mona, reared as a fine lady of that period, was accus- 
 tomed to a degree of comfort which this building, open 
 to all the winds of heaven, did not promise to afford ; 
 so on entering her new abode she showed a feeling that 
 did not wholly resemble joy. 
 
 “ Dumorix,” said she, “ this hut is very old, and the 
 place is very dreary.” 
 
 “ The whole country is against us, Mona,” replied 
 Dumorix with his artless simplicity, “ and we shall 
 not be sought on this unknown island. I’ll repair the 
 house and build a wall around it ; I will support you 
 by hunting and fishing. So rejoice, my beloved; we 
 shall be happy in this solitude.” 
 
 “ I am content,” replied Mona, who was suddenly 
 ready to accommodate herself to the situation. 
 
 And she instantly began to light a fire on the round 
 stone in the centre of the hut. Having swept the floor, 
 she covered it with auroch-skins, which were to serve 
 for a bed, and placed on beams two or three earthen 
 vessels and the stock of provisions they had brought. 
 While thus performing the duties of an active house- 
 keeper, Dumorix, a happy smile resting on his lips, 
 followed her with loving eyes. But the necessities of 
 
256 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 the moment permitted no long reveries, and the war- 
 rior roused himself. 
 
 “ I’m going to the pirogue to get the rest of our 
 property,” he said at last. 
 
 Mona had not the childish timidity of a young girl 
 of our day, yet she felt a thrill of terror at the thought 
 of staying alone in this gloomy place. Not daring to 
 confess it, she said in an embarrassed tone, 
 
 “ Come back soon, Dumorix. Perhaps the druid 
 and Hatt’s son are watching for you.” 
 
 Dumorix shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 “ I have my weapons,” he replied, showing his spear 
 and sabre. 
 
 “ Take your shield too.” 
 
 The warrior made a slight gesture of impatience, but 
 put his shield on his left arm and went away. 
 
 Left alone, Mona, to soothe her fears, pursued her 
 task. She was gradually growing calmer, when the 
 distant baying of a dog was heard, mingled with the 
 sound of human voices. She listened, and, fancying 
 she recognized her husband’s tones, suddenly banished 
 her feminine fears, seized a lance, and ran at full speed 
 in the direction of the noise. 
 
 Dumorix, in taking his shield, had merely obeyed the 
 caprice of a woman he loved, but did not think of fear- 
 ing any danger. He was going quietly toward the 
 place where he had left his pirogue, when Astor’s bark- 
 ing made him quicken his pace, and he soon emerged 
 from the woods. 
 
 A man — a Gallic warrior, judging from his garments 
 striped with red — had just crossed the narrow arm of 
 the Seine, which at this point was very shallow. Al- 
 
THE SOLITUDE. 
 
 25 7 
 
 though loaded with his weapons, he seemed to have 
 made the passage very easily, and when Dumorix 
 appeared was in the act of wringing his breeches and 
 sagum. It was Hatt’s son. 
 
 Dumorix’s first feeling was one of profound astonish- 
 ment. By what miracle had the warrior been able to 
 overtake the fugitives after the extreme care used to 
 render pursuit impossible? Yet he instantly recovered 
 his coolness, and uttered a shout of defiance. 
 
 Hatt’s son, on hearing the sound, put himself on guard 
 and repeated the war-cry in his turn. 
 
 When the two were within twenty paces they gazed at 
 each other a moment in silence. 
 
 Astor, warned by instinct that the new-comer was his 
 master’s enemy, ground his teeth and prepared to spring 
 upon him. Dumorix, obeying the chivalrous feelings of 
 his race, did not desire such an ally. 
 
 “ Down, Astor !” he said imperiously. 
 
 The dog, still growling, went behind him. 
 
 The two warriors continued to watch, but it was not 
 only Homer’s heroes who defied each other in long 
 speeches ; the Gauls, with their natural love of boast- 
 ing, never failed to insult their foes before engaging in 
 conflict. 
 
 “ Hatt’s son,” said Dumorix scornfully, “ must have 
 employed some sorcery to reach me so quickly, but 
 no witchcraft will save him from the death that awaits 
 him.” 
 
 “ It was no sorcery,” replied the "arrior haughtily, 
 “ but your own imprudence, that enabled me to follow 
 your trail. While wandering yesterday evening along 
 the river-bank, I saw you ascending the stream in 
 22 * R 
 
258 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 your boat, and the sound of the oars served to guide 
 me through the darkness. You landed here jnst now, 
 and I hastily crossed the water to overtake you. I 
 come to avenge my father’s maiies, which you have 
 outraged by snatching away Mona, the victim that 
 belongs to him ; therefore I am going to kill you 
 first, and then Mona.” 
 
 “ Kill Mona !” cried Dumorix, grinding his teeth. 
 
 He seized his spear by the leather loop fastened 
 toward the middle of the weapon, and called by the 
 Romans amentum , balanced it once or twice, and at 
 last hurled it against his adversary with wonderful 
 strength. 
 
 The spear buried itself in the warrior’s wooden buckler, 
 shivering it in twain. Hatt’s son, in his turn, promptly 
 hurled his own lance, which buried itself in Dumorix’s 
 shield, but without penetrating it so deeply. 
 
 This new weight did not make the arm of the gigantic 
 warrior tremble, but he threw aside his buckler, while 
 Hatt’s son cast down the remains of his, and both draw- 
 ing their swords rushed furiously upon each other. 
 
 The art of fencing was not very much developed in 
 those days, and consisted only of a few feints ; owing to 
 which strength usually prevailed over skill. So Dumo- 
 rix soon dealt his adversary a terrible blow which was 
 to cleave him in twain, as, according to the old poems, 
 was the custom of the paladins of the Middle Ages. 
 Hatt’s son instinctively bent his head, and the stroke 
 fell on his brl.ize helmet. Now, we know that the 
 Gauls’ swords were not of the best temper, and the 
 inferior quality of their weapons was often disastrous 
 t.o them in their battles with the Romans. Dumorix’s 
 
THE SOLITUDE . 
 
 259 
 
 sabre, meeting an invincible obstacle, broke, which 
 placed the warrior at a considerable disadvantage. 
 
 Hatt’s son was at first unable to profit by the acci- 
 dent; stunned by the terrible shock he had just re- 
 ceived, he staggered back. Nevertheless, he soon re- 
 covered his senses and advanced to the attack. Du- 
 morix, with his half-shattered blade, had considerable 
 difficulty in defending himself, and in spite of his her- 
 culean strength the issue of the conflict was doubtful, 
 when he was suddenly aided. 
 
 The Gauls acccustomed their dogs to fight with them, 
 and more than once the powerful animals who followed 
 them into the conflict aided in obtaining the victory. 
 Perhaps Astor had been trained for this purpose ; at 
 any rate, the brave animal, seeing his master in danger, 
 no longer heeded his former commands, and sprang 
 upon Hatt’s son, who did not expect the furious as- 
 sault 
 
 He stood firm as a rock, while the dog buried his 
 terrible teeth in his leg, but Dumorix, forgetting his 
 chivalric generosity in his rage, took advantage of this 
 diversion and plunged his sabre to the hilt in his ene- 
 my’s breast. The warrior shook his arms convulsively, 
 turned and fell backward, struggling, and inundating 
 the aquatic plants with his blood. 
 
 Dumorix did not think of finishing his work. All his 
 rage was now turned against the unfortunate Astor, who 
 had rendered him so great a service, and he pursued 
 him, brandishing his broken sword and swearing by 
 Tarann, by Circius, and all the most formidable divini- 
 ties of his barbarous religion. 
 
 Perhaps the dog would have paid dearly for his dis • 
 
26 o 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 obedience if Mona, lance in hand, had not issued from 
 the woods at that moment Dumorix, seeing her ad- 
 vance with flushed face and dishevelled hair, animated 
 by warlike ardor, let Astor fly, and going toward her 
 pointed with his finger to the conquered foe, now 
 writhing in the last agony, and said with almost child- 
 like joy, 
 
 “ See, Mona, I have kept my promise ; IVe killed the 
 chiefs son.” 
 
 Mona was certainly not so much affected by the spec- 
 tacle as a woman of our times would have been. Yet 
 she turned her eyes away. 
 
 “My Dumorix is a brave warrior,” she said; “I 
 have found in him a worthy defender and a noble 
 master.” 
 
 The praises were welcome to the young man's pride, 
 and he returned to Hatt’s son, who was lying on the 
 grass, to strip him of his weapons. He was endeavor- 
 ing to remove the bracelets and necklaces when the 
 dying man murmured with an accent of inexpressible 
 hatred, 
 
 “ I have been conquered by two dogs .” And he 
 expired. 
 
 Dumorix, without any sign of emotion, cut off his 
 head, according to the custom of the Gauls. Then 
 with his foot he pushed the body, now clad only in a 
 sagum and breeches, into the river, saying gayly, 
 
 “ Go back to your accursed village, and teach your 
 friends how Dumorix son of Caletes avenges himself on 
 those who outrage him.” 
 
 Seizing the head by the hair, he presented it to 
 Mona. 
 
THE SOLITUDE . 
 
 26l 
 
 “ We’ll nail it over the door of our home,” said he ; 
 “ I give it to you, my dearest.” 
 
 The offering was one warriors frequently made to 
 their wives or the objects of their love; but Mona 
 did not seem to properly appreciate such a compli- 
 ment. 
 
 “ No,” she replied ; “ it would constantly remind me 
 of the village I hate, the relatives who deserted, the 
 mother who renounced me. I want to forget every- 
 thing, and live only for you.” 
 
 “ Very well,” replied Dumorix. 
 
 He hurled the bloody head far away ; it whirled sev- 
 eral times in the air, and fell with a heavy plunge into 
 the river. 
 
 Dumorix then handed Mona the spoils taken from 
 the dead warrior, while he himself carried the rest of 
 the luggage ; then the young couple, laughing and 
 talking merrily, entered the path leading through the 
 wood, followed by Astor, who, conscious of his late 
 misconduct, walked along with drooping ears. 
 
 By an accident Dumorix’s sarcastic wish was fulfilled. 
 Three days after, some fishers in the village of Argen- 
 teuil found caught among the reeds the headless body 
 of Hatt’s son. It was not difficult to guess who had 
 committed the murder; but they sought in vain for 
 Dumorix and his companion to avenge upon them the 
 insult done the tribe, and by degrees the tragical event 
 seemed buried in oblivion. 
 
VII. 
 
 LOUTO UHEZI. 
 
 M ORE than twenty years had passed. 
 
 During this long period no remarkable change 
 seemed to have taken place in the island and its neigh- 
 borhood. A few new huts appeared here and there 
 on the sides of Mont Lucotitius* and the plain that 
 extended to the Bievre marshes — a few more clearings 
 in the country. But, generally speaking, the region 
 looked very much as it had done twenty years before, 
 and the island was still covered with dense, apparently 
 impenetrable, woods. 
 
 Nevertheless, of late it might have been perceived 
 that the solitude was only apparent. Smoke frequently 
 rose above the foliage that made the isle look like a 
 clump of verdure. Along the wide arm of the river, 
 where the traders’ boats passed, the curtain of trees 
 concealed every trace of culture or habitation, but 
 human forms sometimes glided by on the shore of the 
 narrow branch ; the blows of an axe might be heard, 
 
 * It will be noticed that here, as well as throughout the work, it has 
 been necessary, for the purpose of clearness, to use the Roman names, 
 which were not given to the various localities until several centuries 
 later > but the reader will understand that these anachronisms were al- 
 most unavoidable. 
 
 262 
 
LOUTO UHEZL 
 
 263 
 
 and the lowing of cattle. Lastly, a man of gigantic 
 size might often be met, sometimes fishing with nets 
 from a pirogue, sometimes wandering through the 
 marshes, accompanied by a dog, to hunt wild boars. 
 But at this period, when social intercourse was rare 
 and manners rude, people troubled themselves very 
 little about the affairs of others. Besides, the hermit 
 probably did not possess a very communicative dis- 
 position, and as it was not deemed prudent to annoy 
 him with intrusive curiosity, he was willingly left to 
 his misanthropy. 
 
 But a day came when the events which had occurred 
 in this place were to attract the attention of the neigh- 
 borhood. For several years loud cries, like those ut- 
 tered by noisy children, had been heard in the woods, 
 and when the inhabitant of the island went fishing or 
 hunting he was accompanied by one or two young 
 boys, whom he was doubtless training to perform his 
 tasks. Finally, a short time before the period of which 
 we now speak, he had appeared accompanied by five 
 sons, the youngest scarcely fourteen years old, but all 
 strong, alert, and hardened by their savage life. The 
 little colony which had gradually been formed on the 
 island no longer seemed to care to conceal its presence. 
 It now possessed numerous cattle and several pirogues. 
 The lads whom we have mentioned went and came 
 constantly, engaged in fishing or hunting, and their 
 manner, which grew bolder and bolder, showed that 
 they thought they could act with perfect freedom. 
 
 Several persons who through curiosity or accident 
 had landed on the island caught glimpses of plantations 
 and clearings of considerable extent. In the midst of 
 
264 
 
 THE P RE-HI S T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 this cultivated region a sort of enclosure, palisaded like 
 a fortress, seemed to contain several dwellings. But 
 they had been unable to make any very close examina- 
 tion. Invariably, while the new-comer was gazing at 
 the farm so carefully concealed, one of the stout lads 
 we have mentioned, and who never went out without 
 their swords or bows, started from some corner, or 
 their father, who was yet stronger and fiercer of aspect , 
 and certain looks or movements made the stranger un- 
 derstand the inconveniences of too long an observation. 
 Thus the stories were not very clear, and often con- 
 tradictory. 
 
 In those days, and for a long time after, there were 
 two sandy islands, situated a little above the one on 
 which Paris was built, that afterward united to form the 
 solid ground of Pont-Neuf. Every winter, during the 
 great floods, they were completely submerged, and 
 nothing was visible except the marsh-grasses, diversi- 
 fying by their verdure the uniformity of the shore. 
 
 Now, on a warm summer day, while the waters of the 
 Seine were very low, a heavily-laden boat entered the 
 narrow passage between the two islands. It was no 
 longer the pirogue hollowed from a log used in prim- 
 itive times. Owing to the rapid development of com- 
 merce, the boats used to convey commodities of various 
 kinds had assumed considerable dimensions, and that 
 in question was one of the largest. It had only two 
 rowers, but as they were going down the stream, and 
 merely needed to direct it according to the channel, the 
 task was not beyond their strength. 
 
 In the stern sat a passenger, accommodated tolera- 
 bly well among the merchandise. He must have been a 
 
LOUTOUHEZI. 
 
 265 
 
 person of importance, for care had been taken to secure 
 his comfort; an ox hide stretched on two poles over his 
 head formed a tent which protected him from the burn- 
 ing rays of the sun. He remained motionless under 
 his shelter, and did not appear to trouble himself about 
 the boatmen’s movements. 
 
 A circumstance occurred, however, which rendered 
 his aid very necessary. The men, either from careless- 
 ness or inexperience, had allowed their boat to enter the 
 narrow passage, where it grounded. In vain they tried 
 to get it off; the current still swept it downward till it 
 became firmly fixed in the sand. It seemed impossible 
 to push forward or backward without nearly unloading 
 it — a task that presented many difficulties. 
 
 The poor boatmen, after having exhausted themselves 
 in useless efforts, cast their eyes around to search for 
 assistance. The country and marshes seemed deserted. 
 There was nothing on the river except a pirogue in 
 which sat a young lad twelve or fourteen years old, 
 humming a guttural tune while raising his nets. 
 
 The boatmen called, but he did not appear to hear, 
 and, still humming, continued his task. They grew angry 
 and shook their fists at him ; he still took no notice 
 except to see that his sling was at his belt and half a 
 dozen round stones in the bottom of the pirogue were 
 within his reach. 
 
 Suddenly the leather that hung over the stern of the 
 boat was drawn aside, and the passenger appeared. By 
 his green robe and crown of oak-leaves it was easy to 
 recognize him for one of the ovates so revered among 
 the Gauls. He was still a strong man, though threads 
 of silver were beginning to appear in his thick black 
 23 
 
266 
 
 THE TEE-HISTORIC IVOR ID. 
 
 beard. Doubtless, he relied upon the effect his presence 
 ought to produce, for he made an imperious sign to the 
 little savage, sure that he would eagerly obey. 
 
 But he did not. The lad contented himself with gaz- 
 ing at the new-comer with dilated eyes, giving no mark 
 of respect or fear. Evidently, he had not the slightest 
 idea who the man in the green robe could be. 
 
 The latter, in spite of his dignity, found himself obliged 
 to change his tactics toward a person he needed. He be- 
 gan to smile, took a basket of red wild cherries, doubtless 
 intended solely for his use, and showed it to the lad, in- 
 timating by gestures that it was at his disposal. 
 
 The boy at first hesitated, but when he understood 
 uttered a cry of delight, while his tawny eyes sparkled 
 with greed. He seized his oars, and, handling his pi- 
 rogue with great dexterity, brought it alongside of the 
 boat. There he grasped the basket and began to eat the 
 cherries as fast as he could. 
 
 While the lad was indulging his appetite the ovate 
 scrutinized him at his leisure. He was little more than 
 a child, and as his whole clothing consisted of a pair of 
 short breeches, the priest had full opportunity to admire 
 the magnificent proportions of his figure, now bronzed 
 by sun and wind. Strong and nimble, the little savage 
 was very decided in his manners, which, however, be- 
 trayed the most artless simplicity. 
 
 The basket of cherries was nearly exhausted when 
 the ovate, in his most grandiloquent tone, asked, 
 
 “ Child, what is your name ?” 
 
 “ Clodic son of Dumorix,” replied the little fisherman 
 with his mouth full. 
 
 “ Where do you live ?” 
 
LOUTOUHEZL 267 
 
 “ Yonder,” said Clodic, stretching his arm toward the 
 site of Paris. 
 
 “ What is the name of the place ?” 
 
 “ Loutouhezi.” * 
 
 “ With whom do you live in Loutouhezi ?” 
 
 “ With my father, my mother, and my four brothers. 
 My father is a warrior ; my brothers are tall and strong. 
 They kill wild boars and aurochs, and could slay men. 
 I shall soon do the same.” 
 
 “ Where are your father and brothers now?” 
 
 “ Hunting wild oxen: then they’ll push on to the great 
 forest where the tribe of the Kimris-Belges is encamped. 
 So my mother Mona is alone at the hut, and I am going 
 to join her.” 
 
 Clodic dropped the empty basket, and was about to 
 take up his oars again, but the ovate asked, 
 
 “ So your father is named Dumorix and your mother 
 Mona ?” 
 
 The fisher-boy made a gesture of assent. 
 
 “ Listen to me, child,” continued the ovate in his 
 majestic tones. “ I never speak in vain, and no one 
 can resist me. I am a druid : you doubtless know that 
 a druid must be obeyed, even unto death.” 
 
 “ I know nothing about druids,” replied Clodic boldly, 
 “ and obey nobody but my father.” 
 
 The ovate raised his hands toward heaven, as if pity- 
 ing such utter ignorance. 
 
 “ The druids,” he continued, “ are the representatives 
 of the gods. If you offended me, your harvests would 
 
 * Loutouhezi, which means in the Celtic language habitation in the 
 midst of waters, was the primitive name of Paris. It is the real etymology 
 of the Roman Lutetia and French Lutece. 
 
268 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 be destroyed, your cattle die of disease, your dwellings 
 would be burned, your island devastated by floods 
 Your father, your mother, your brothers, and yourself 
 could be destroyed by a mere wish of mine. These 
 men will tell you whether I am deceiving you.” 
 
 He pointed to the two boatmen, who, despairing of 
 obtaining any assistance, were working busily to float 
 off their boat, and seemed about to succeed. They 
 were the ovate’s slaves, and, pausing in their toil, en 
 larged upon their master’s supernatural power. 
 
 Clodic listened to all this with open mouth. Cred- 
 ulous, like all children and savages, he at last seemed 
 intimidated, and averting his eyes, said, 
 
 “ What do you want of me ?” 
 
 The ovate’s countenance softened. 
 
 “ These are my orders,” he replied. " I can’t re- 
 main exposed to this burning sun while my servants 
 lighten the boat; so I’ll get into your pirogue, and go 
 to your house, where your parents will grant me a 
 few moments’ hospitality.” 
 
 Clodic shook his head. 
 
 “ No stranger has ever crossed our threshold,” said 
 he — “ except,” he instantly added, “ the chief of the 
 Kimris-Belges, who recently came to Loutouhezi.” 
 
 “ I am no ordinary man. My presence will bring 
 prosperity to your home. All the members of your 
 family will be exempt from sickness ; your sheep will 
 give you lambs every year ; your hunting will be suc- 
 cessful ; your bins will be filled with wheat and your 
 cellars with cerevisia,* for wherever I go I bring good- 
 fortune.” 
 
 * Beverage made of grain and herbs. 
 
LOUTOUHEZL 
 
 269 
 
 Clodic might have answered that the voyage so dis- 
 agreeably interrupted did not show so much good- 
 fortune and power on the part of the priest of Irmin- 
 sul, but the observation was too subtle for his intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 As he still hesitated, the ovate added, 
 
 “ Child, the hospitality I ask shall not be unrepaid. 
 Accept this in remembrance of a druid.” 
 
 He drew from a skin pouch a small object and 
 handed it to Clodic, who turned it mechanically be- 
 tween his fingers. 
 
 Pieces of money made of bronze, gold, and even sil- 
 ver, were beginning to appear among the Gauls, espe- 
 cially in the provinces adjoining Italy. But these 
 pieces, which the development of commerce already 
 rendered necessary, were very rare and scarcely known 
 in the North. Now, the object the ovate had just given 
 Clodic was one of these bronze coins, fragments of 
 which have been discovered among the ruins of the 
 Lacustrian cities. Clodic, having no idea of its use, 
 continued to turn it in his fingers, when the priest 
 called his attention to the rude marks the bit of metal 
 bore on its surface. On one side was a bearded face 
 with huge ear-rings ; on the other the “ horned horse,” 
 which became the emblem of the Gauls, and is found 
 on so many Gallic medals. 
 
 Clodic gazed at these marvels, and no words could do 
 justice to his amazement and delight when he distin- 
 guished the shapeless figures that seemed to him the 
 perfection of art He began to dance, to utter shouts 
 of joy, and at last exclaimed, 
 
 “ I'm going to show this to my mother. My brothers 
 
 23 * 
 
270 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 will be jealous, but I won’t let anybody take it except 
 my father.” 
 
 Not knowing where to put the piece of money, he 
 slipped it into his mouth and prepared to return to 
 the island, which was only a few paces away. His pre- 
 occupation and eagerness to reach it prevented him 
 from perceiving that the ovate, after having given a 
 few orders to his slaves, had passed from the large boat 
 into the pirogue, and was seated by his side. Besides, 
 how could he have refused to obey this majestic, supe- 
 rior, all-powerful being, who had made him such a 
 gift? 
 
 With a few strokes of the oars they reached the 
 island, and the lad leaped ashore without troubling him- 
 self about the ovate. The latter, however, did not stay 
 behind, and followed him along the path that led through 
 the thicket. 
 
VIII 
 
 THE VISIT 
 
 HIS path was far smoother and more frequentei 
 
 than in former days. It was also much shorter, 
 for at the end of a hundred paces the two companions 
 entered large cultivated fields. In the centre stood the 
 dwelling, which, as we have said, looked like a fortress. 
 To approach, one was obliged to pass a rampart of trees, 
 whose interlaced branches and mouldering trunks left 
 only a narrow passage that could easily be blocked up 
 in case of attack. The walls of the enclosure were 
 built according to the Gallic plan — that is, in successive 
 layers of stones and beams, so that they could equally 
 resist undermining and fire. 'Their height almost con- 
 cealed the conical roofs of several huts, and the door, 
 constructed of huge joists, was flanked by stones that 
 afforded means of instantly walling it up if required. 
 
 The ovate did not feel so much surprise at the sight 
 of this well-fortified abode as might have been expected. 
 At that period, when war was continual, not only be- 
 tween nation and nation, but tribe with tribe and family 
 with family, these rustic fortresses were very common. 
 Each Gaul of any note possessed one, which he occu- 
 pied permanently or only in times of danger. Besides, 
 
 271 
 
272 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 these solid walls might also have been built to protect 
 the habitation against the encroachments of the river, 
 which in winter often inundated a portion of the island. 
 
 As Clodic approached he quickened his pace, calling 
 his mother, to whom he was impatient to show his 
 treasure. As no one answered, he passed through the 
 massive door, which stood open, the ovate following 
 close behind him. 
 
 The fortified enclosure, where several fine trees were 
 growing, was large enough to contain, in case of war, 
 all the flocks and all the wealth of the family. Opposite 
 to the entrance were three or four round huts, covered, 
 as usual, with thatch or rushes. From one, devoted to 
 culinary purposes, issued a monotonous, disagreeable 
 noise which had doubtless prevented Clodic’s calls from 
 being heard ; it proceeded from a hand-mill formed of 
 stones placed one above another, which two women 
 were turning to crush the grain. 
 
 The oldest of these women was a slave, who had fled 
 from a neighboring village to escape being stoned to 
 death or burned on her master’s tomb. Dumorix on 
 one of his hunting-excursions had found her in the 
 woods dying of fatigue and hunger, and brought her 
 to Loutouhezi to be a companion and servant to Mona. 
 The slave had shown her gratitude for this good office 
 by her devotion and fidelity. She had helped rear the 
 children, and was considered one of the family. 
 
 The other woman has already been divined to be the 
 mistress of the abode, Mona herself. 
 
 Mona, as may be supposed, was no longer the slender 
 young girl we saw at the commencement of this story, 
 but a stout and still beautiful matron. Though occupied 
 
THE VISIT. 
 
 273 
 
 at this moment in the humblest household duties, she 
 showed the dignity possessed by the Gallic women, who 
 shared domestic authority with their husbands. The 
 deference of the Celts to their wives and mothers is 
 perhaps the origin of the chivalric devotion of the 
 Middle Ages — a devotion that has been one of the 
 principal elements of modern civilization. 
 
 Mona, on seeing the youngest, and consequently the 
 most petted, of her children enter, left her work to meet 
 him. Clodic, panting for breath, had already taken the 
 bronze coin from his mouth, and was showing it to her 
 with artless joy, when the old slave uttered a cry of sur- 
 prise and terror. Mona turned her head and perceived 
 on the threshold the ovate, a very striking personage in 
 his green robe and crown of oak-leaves. 
 
 She gazed steadily at him, and doubtless recognized 
 him even after the lapse of so many years, for she sprang 
 forward like a panther, seized an axe that stood in one 
 corner of the hut, and, magnificent in her wrath, hate, 
 and menace, stood before the priest of Irminsul, saying 
 to her son, 
 
 “ What have you done, Clodic ? It is the ovate of 
 Argenteuil.” 
 
 These words had a very clear meaning to the lad ; he 
 seized a lance and stood beside his mother, while the 
 slave armed herself with a huge stone, which a moment 
 before had been put to a very different use. 
 
 The ovate did not trouble himself about these hostile 
 demonstrations, but sat down on a bundle of rushes in 
 the centre of the hut. 
 
 “ Mona ,” said he, “ I am Dumorix’s guest and yours.'* 
 
 Such was the sacredness of hospitality that Mona in- 
 
 s 
 
274 
 
 THE RRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 stantly ceased to menace her mortal enemy. But her 
 eyes still flashed, and she replied, trembling with indig- 
 nation, 
 
 “ What! priest of Irminsul, dare you sit down in the 
 home of a man whom you have declared infamous ? 
 You have cursed him as well as his family, his friends, 
 his servants, his flocks and his goods, his roof and his 
 fireside. Why did you enter the hut of the excommu- 
 nicated outlaw ?” 
 
 The ovate answered, 
 
 “ The commands imposed upon the common herd are 
 beneath my notice. A druid is the repository of divine 
 power ; he can revoke the maledictions he has uttered. 
 Just now I learned by chance that you were here with 
 your husband, Dumorix, and I wanted to see you. You 
 are the daughter of the venerable Bodicea, who adores 
 the gods and honors the druids. She has often spoken 
 of you, and I know she loves you, in spite of your faults. 
 It is on Bodicea’s account I entered your hut.” 
 
 Mona was deeply moved at hearing her mother’s 
 name. Dropping her axe, she burst into tears. 
 
 “ Ovate,” she cried, “ is it true that my mother is still 
 alive ?” 
 
 “ What ! are you really ignorant of it ? She lives, 
 though burdened with the weight of years and growing 
 weaker every hour. But I will restore her strength by 
 telling her that the daughter she lost has not perished 
 under divine malediction.” 
 
 Mona no longer tried to restrain herself, but gave free 
 course to her tears. 
 
 “ Is it possible ?” she murmured ; “ Bodicea is alive 
 and loves me still ? Ovate, I beseech you, when you re- 
 
THE VISIT 
 
 275 
 
 turn, tell her that I too have never ceased to think of her 
 during our separation. In spite of the curse you called 
 down upon our heads, the gods have given me a good, 
 brave husband, handsome, sturdy children, who respect 
 me and spread joy and abundance around me. Yet in 
 the midst of this prosperity two ideas have constantly 
 occupied my mind : Does my mother still hate me ? 
 And, I would like to see Bodicea again, were it only 
 for an instant.” 
 
 The ovate’s eyes sparkled with cruel satisfaction. 
 Yet he made no haste to answer; it was only after a 
 pause that he gently replied, 
 
 “Time, Mona, softens many passions, calms many 
 wrathful feelings ; perhaps it will also disarm - Irminsul’s 
 vengeance. Besides, a white heifer was sacrificed on 
 the chieftain’s tomb in your place, and his manes were 
 appeased. So, why should you not go to visit Bodi- 
 cea, who longs for you, calls you, and would fain em- 
 brace you for the last time before passing to the better 
 world ?” 
 
 Mona started and raised her head. 
 
 “ What do you say, ovate ?” she cried. “ I could re- 
 turn to the village?” 
 
 “Yes, and my protection would secure you from all 
 harm.” 
 
 “ Then I will go,” said Mona resolutely ; “ when Du- 
 morix and my sons return I will tell them my desire to 
 give my mother a last embrace.” 
 
 “ Why delay so long, Mona ? I repeat, Bodicea is 
 very old. If you don’t hasten you may be too late. 
 Listen: the boat that brought me here must now be 
 afloat again. Wiil you accompany me? The slaves 
 
276 THE PRE-H/STORIC WORLD . 
 
 and your mother’s servants shall bring you back to 
 Loutouhezi.” 
 
 Mona seemed greatly tempted. Very contradictory 
 feelings divided her heart. At last she said with a 
 strong effort, 
 
 “ I will go and see Bodicea, but I must be accompa- 
 nied by Dumorix and two of my sons.” 
 
 “ I could not extend my protection to them, as I am 
 ready to give it to you. The warriors of our tribe sus- 
 pect that Hatt’s son was slain by Dumorix, and Hatt’s 
 family still has numerous friends. My authority would 
 be insufficient to restrain the hate your husband’s pres- 
 ence might arouse. Now accept or refuse; a druid 
 never speaks in vain.” He rose as if to withdraw. 
 Mona hastily decided. 
 
 “ I will trust you, ovate,” she cried, “ and am ready 
 to follow you.” 
 
 She took a large linen veil, which she wrapped about 
 her from head to foot, threw over her arm a cloak of 
 fine, soft skin, intended to protect her from wind tod 
 rain, and then said firmly, 
 
 “ Lead the way, ovate ; I am impatient to see Bo- 
 dicea.” 
 
 The same smile of gratified hate appeared on the 
 druid’s austere countenance. As they were approach- 
 ing the door Mona was stopped by Clodic, who clung 
 to her, scarcely able to restrain his tears, sobbing, 
 
 “ Mother ! mother ! don’t go !” 
 
 The old slave also murmured timidly, 
 
 ” Mona, what will Dumorix, your master and mine, 
 say when he returns home and no longer finds you ?” 
 Mona kissed Clodic’s forehead. 
 
THE VISIT 
 
 2 77 
 
 “ I shall soon come back, my child,” she said ten- 
 derly ; “ don’t be frightened. You love your mother; 
 do you wonder that I love mine ?” 
 
 She told the slave what to say to the hunters when 
 they returned home, and, perhaps fearing that her cour- 
 age might give way, said abruptly, 
 
 " Ovate, I am ready.” 
 
 They turned to leave the hut, but a sudden noise, 
 like the impetuous rush of several persons, made them 
 draw back. Dumorix and his four sons, whose gigantic 
 stature was scarcely inferior to his own, entered like a 
 whirlwind. All were clad in garments of skin cut in a pe- 
 culiar fashion, and were armed with spears, javelins, bows, 
 and arrows. The father, whose face was convulsed with 
 rage, held in his hand a naked sabre, which, without 
 uttering a word, he raised over the head of the terrified 
 ovate. Mona caught his arm, exclaiming, 
 
 “ He is your guest, Dumorix !” 
 
 This remembrance softened Dumorix, as it had soft- 
 ened Mona herself. The warrior turned to assure him- 
 self that his sons, who seemed to share his wrath, did 
 not yield to some impulse of hatred. 
 
 “ Mona speaks wisely,” he said with a violent effort ; 
 “ although this ovate entered our dwelling with per- 
 fidious intentions, we cannot sully our hands with his 
 blood.” 
 
 The swords and spears sank. A head of a family in 
 those days possessed the power of life and death over 
 his children, and Dumorix’s sons were accustomed to 
 implicit obedience. The ovate, who had at first turned 
 pale, soon regained his courage. 
 
 “ Why this violence, Dumorix son of Caletes ?” he 
 U 
 
278 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 asked. “ Forgetting your sacrilegious past, forgetting 
 the anathema that weighs upon your family and your- 
 self, I sat down at your fireside as a traveller and man 
 of peace ; why do you approach me with threats in 
 your mouth and arms in your hands ?” 
 
 “ Was it not you, priest of Irminsul,” cried Dumorix, 
 “ who pronounced the anathema against us ? Fortu- 
 nately,” he added sarcastically, “ your gods did not 
 fulfil the terrible malediction. Look how beautiful 
 Mona is ! see how strong and brave her sons are ! 
 We no longer fear you, we no longer fear the hostile 
 tribe that renounced us ; but your artifices rouse my 
 distrust. Just now, while my sons and I were return- 
 ing from the chase, we saw at the point of the island 
 the boat which was delayed here by accident. I ques- 
 tioned your slaves, and they informed me of your pres- 
 ence in my home. Then, knowing what you were and 
 what shameful stratagems you might use against Mona, 
 we rushed hither to protect her. You would have fared 
 ill had you not invoked the rights of hospitality.” 
 
 The ovate, in spite of his pride, became confused and 
 made no reply. 
 
 Mona interposed. “ Dumorix,” said she, “you were 
 wrong to distrust the ovate. He only wished to gratify 
 my mother, Bodicea, who forgives and longs for me. 
 He had just induced me to go with him when you 
 entered.” 
 
 She was startled by the effect of these words upon 
 her husband. Dumorix, in a fresh outburst of wrath, 
 again raised his sword over the ovate ; Mona, with the 
 courage of a beloved wife, who knows her power, once 
 more seized the warrior’s arm. 
 
THE VISIT 
 
 279 
 
 “ Dumorix,’ she cried, “ are you going to shed your 
 guest’s blood, in spite of your promises ? I voluntarily 
 determined to accompany him to embrace my mother 
 Bodicea.” 
 
 “ And Bodicea has been dead a month !” replied Du- 
 morix. 
 
 “ What ? How do you know ? We never speak to 
 any one from that part of the country.” 
 
 “ I gained the information by accident. About a 
 month ago I heard a shepherd shout to one of his 
 companions, who was a short distance from me, ‘ Old 
 Bodicea is dead, and has left all her property to the 
 ovate.’ The other went away to repeat the news, and 
 [ said nothing, that you might not grieve.” 
 
 Mona wept bitterly. 
 
 “ So my mother is dead ?” she murmured. “ I shall 
 never see her again.” But indignation quickly con- 
 quered sorrow. “ You knew it, ovate !” she cried ; 
 u why did you wish to take me away from here ?” 
 The bewildered druid felt that, surrounded by this 
 half-savage family, so violently and justly irritated, his 
 life hung by a thread. He stammered, 
 
 “ I did not know of Bodicea’s death. I’ve been 
 travelling a long time ; it was doubtless during my 
 absence — ” 
 
 “ It is not more than a week since you left the vil- 
 lage,” interrupted Dumorix, stamping his foot ; “ the 
 boatmen told me so just now. You went to Melo- 
 dunum* to receive the orders of the arch-druid whom 
 you obey, and you were aware of Bodicea’s death 
 before your departure.” 
 
 * Melodunum, Melun. 
 
280 the pre-historic world. 
 
 The ovate, convicted of falsehood, tried to take refuge 
 in his pride of caste. 
 
 “ Can an ignorant man like you,” he answered 
 haughtily, “ presume to judge the conduct of a priest 
 of Irminsul and Esus ?” 
 
 But Mona was not to be satisfied with subterfuges. 
 
 “ Ovate,” she repeated, “ since my mother is dead, 
 for what object did you wish to take me back to the 
 village ?” 
 
 “ I was obeying the command of the gods.” 
 
 “ And do you know, Mona, what the gods of the 
 Druids desired?” cried Dumorix with fierce sarcasm. 
 “ I think I can guess now. The boatmen also told me 
 (for I would have killed them had they not spoken the 
 whole truth) what the ovate went to Melodunum to do. 
 The Kimris of Argenteuil, to show their devotion to 
 Irminsul, demanded a human sacrifice, and prepared 
 the great osier statue in which victims are enclosed to 
 be burned alive. No victim having offered himself, the 
 ovate called on the arch-druid for one of the criminals 
 held in reserve for occasions of this kind. But the 
 arch-druid was unable or unwilling to grant the re- 
 quest; and therefore, Mona, this ovate doubtless chose 
 you — you, the mother of my sons — to take the place 
 of the victim he desired.” 
 
 Deep silence followed this accusation. They sup- 
 posed that the ovate was about to protest against de- 
 signs so monstrous, so cruel, but he possessed more 
 pride than prudence. Relying upon the protection of 
 the mother of the family, he said scornfully, 
 
 “ Dumorix and his sons do not revere Irminsul and 
 Esus, the gods of the Druids ; they worship Kirk, Ta- 
 
THE VISIT 
 
 28l 
 
 rann, Teutates,* and cannot understand the terrible 
 wills I must obey. Mona was designated for a victim 
 more than twenty years ago ; is it to be supposed 
 that the gods cannot claim their prey either soon or 
 late ?” 
 
 This partial confession roused fury to its height. Not 
 only Dumorix, but the young men, who had silently and 
 sullenly watched the scene, uttered cries of rage on 
 hearing of the torture with which Mona had been 
 threatened. All rushed upon the ovate. 
 
 “ Kill him !” they shouted ; “ the priest of Irminsul 
 must die !” 
 
 For the third time Mona placed herself before the 
 druid, making a rampart of her body. 
 
 “ Dumorix ! my sons !” said she, “ spare him for my 
 sake — spare him, I beseech you ! Remember that he is 
 our guest, and has been my mother’s friend.” 
 
 The young men obeyed, but while Dumorix hesitat- 
 ed, Colman, the oldest, humbly suggested, 
 
 “ Father, if Mona doesn’t want him to die, at least 
 keep him as a hostage.” 
 
 “ No, no, not even that,” cried Mona. — “ Dumorix, I 
 earnestly beseech you to let him leave your dwelling as 
 freely as he entered it.” 
 
 And she supported her prayer with one of the looks 
 which the son of Caletes, in spite of his apparent rude- 
 
 * We must again recall the fact that at the same time with the Druid 
 ism professed in Gaul by the Kimris existed a polytheism professed by a 
 still more ancient race. The divinities of this polytheism were after- 
 ward assimilated by Augustus with the gods of Greece. Thus, Teutates 
 became Mercury, Tarann Jupiter, etc. The stone bas-reliefs found at 
 Paris in the foundations of Notre Dame positively prove this assimi- 
 lation. 
 
 24 * 
 
282 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 ness, did not know how to resist. He said to the 
 ovate, 
 
 “ Go, then, since Mona wishes it. You will doubtless 
 stir up all the Kimris in the country against us, but we 
 are strong enough to defend Mona against you and 
 them ; if we don’t succeed, we will die.” 
 
 ‘‘Yes, yes, we will die!” repeated the young men, 
 gathering around their mother. 
 
 Mona thanked them with a smile of joyful pride. As 
 the ovate, divided between the sense of his dignity and 
 the consciousness of peril, did not stir, Dumorix lost 
 patience. 
 
 “ Go, man !” he shouted. “ Are you weary of life ?” 
 
 The ovate at last decided. 
 
 “ I shall return,” he murmured. 
 
 He wrapped himself in his robe and walked slowly 
 out of the hut, without noticing that Clodic hurled after 
 him the coin he had given. 
 
 As he crossed the threshold of the fortified enclosure 
 Dumorix signed to two of his sons. 
 
 “ Acco, and you, Dumnac,” said he, “ follow him at a 
 distance until you have seen him enter his boat. Above 
 all, resist the temptation of sending an arrow or javelin 
 after him, I command you.” 
 
 The sturdy young fellows began to laugh, as if their 
 father had made an excellent joke, and hastily followed 
 the ovate. 
 
 The head of the family remained absorbed in thought 
 a moment, then — Mona having gently thanked him for 
 his compliance — approached Colman, his confidant and 
 the usual executor of his wishes. 
 
 “Son,” said he, “courage ought not to exclude pru- 
 
THE VISIT. 283 
 
 deuce. We must expect to be speedily attacked by the 
 warriors of Argenteuil.” 
 
 “ We will fight them.” 
 
 “ By Tarann ! I don’t doubt it ; but the point in ques- 
 tion is to defend Mona, and we can’t take too many 
 precautions. I have an errand to give you. Are you 
 ready ?” 
 
 “ I await my father’s orders,” replied Colman, seizing 
 his lance and shield. 
 
 “ Go,” continued Dumorix, “to the forest which be- 
 gins not far from here on the east, and seek the little 
 tribe of Kimris-Belges who have been driven from their 
 country and forced to encamp in the woods. You doubt- 
 less know their chief, Tasget ?” 
 
 “Yes, yes, father!” cried the young man eagerly. 
 
 “You will ask for the chief, and show him this, that 
 he may know you come from me.” 
 
 He drew from his finger a large iron ring which bore 
 some odd figures rudely engraved, and handed it to his 
 son. 
 
 “ When you have found Tasget, you will say to him, 
 ‘My father, Dumorix son of Caletes, accepts your con- 
 ditions, and as he is threatened by numerous enemies, 
 send him six of your warriors immediately. Thus re- 
 lations of friendship which shall never end will com- 
 mence between your tribe and ours.’ Have you un- 
 derstood my words?” 
 
 Colman hastened to repeat the message, word for 
 word, to prove that he could deliver it exactly. Then, 
 with downcast eyes and a timidity which, in contrast with 
 his manly face and luxuriant beard, seemed still more 
 singular, he added, 
 
284 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 “ Father, the maidens of that tribe are very beauti- 
 ful." 
 
 Dumorix smiled. 
 
 “ Do you want any daughters-in-law, Mona?" he said, 
 glancing at his wife, who was listening deferentially to 
 the conversation between her husband and her oldest 
 son. 
 
 Mona smiled also, and Colman walked rapidly away 
 to deliver his message. 
 
IX. 
 
 THE ALLIES. 
 
 HREE days after, the fortified habitation of Loutou 
 
 hezi no longer presented its former peaceful, lonely 
 aspect. The herds of oxen, sheep, and goats that usu- 
 ally wandered over the island-pastures had been brought 
 within the enclosure, and their lowing and bleating, 
 mingled with the barking of the half-wild dogs that 
 watched them, produced a deafening tumult day and 
 night. The sheaves of wheat scattered over the coun- 
 try had also been brought in, and it seemed as if every 
 precaution had been taken to leave nothing exposed to 
 the depredations of external enemies. 
 
 The fortifications had been thus completed : new bul- 
 warks of trees closed the roads and rendered them 
 impassable for horses. Before the only door of the 
 enclosure a deep ditch was hollowed, over which a 
 few planks were thrown. Sharp stakes and palisades 
 rendered the approach very difficult and dangerous. 
 
 The number of the inhabitants of Loutouhezi had 
 greatly increased. Dumorix and his five sons had put 
 on their accoutrements of war ; even little Clodic had 
 donned a huge helmet that covered him almost to the 
 eyes. Armed with his bow and sling, he marched 
 
 285 
 
286 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 about with a martial air which greatly amused his poor 
 mother, though at this moment she did not lack cares. 
 
 Among the defenders of Loutouhezi were half a 
 dozen young men equipped like the sons of the house, 
 except that their breeches were much wider, which 
 seemed to be the distinctive mark of their tribe. Their 
 chief was a warrior of advanced age, although still 
 vigorous, whom they treated with great respect. This 
 warrior was Tasget, who in response to Dumorix’s 
 summons had arrived with these young men, and with 
 several old female slaves who were to assist Mona 
 during the anticipated siege. 
 
 These new-comers, as we have said, belonged to the 
 nation of Kimris-Belges, who occupied all the northern 
 part of Gaul to the sea. It was composed of small 
 tribes that carried on an obstinate warfare among them- 
 selves ; so the conquered party was sometimes obliged 
 to emigrate and make a new settlement at a distance. 
 Such had been the fate of the tribe of Tasget, who, 
 having escaped from the fetters of his enemies, had ta- 
 ken refuge on the borders of the nation of the Senons. 
 This portion of the country not being thickly inhab- 
 ited, Tasget had applied to the council of the Senons 
 for permission to settle permanently there. Meantime, 
 he had encamped with his followers in the forest, after- 
 ward called the forest of Bondy, where Dumorix, while 
 hunting with his sons, had met him. Although Du- 
 morix had no intercourse with the people in the neigh- 
 borhood, he felt no reluctance about entering into 
 friendly relations with these strangers, whose situation 
 so closely resembled his own. A sort of intimacy had 
 been established between his family and the tribe of 
 
THE ALLIES. 
 
 287 
 
 Kimris-Belges, which consisted of about one hundred 
 persons; projects of alliance had teen formed by the 
 chiefs, and at the time he believed himself threatened 
 with an attack Dumorix no longer hesitated to con- 
 clude the treaty. 
 
 Therefore Tasget and some of his warriors had lived 
 at Loutouhezi for three days. Tents had been erected, 
 and in the space between the fortifications the young 
 Kimris-Belges and Dumorix’s sons vied with each other 
 in the feats of skill common among the Gauls — leaping, 
 running, the use of the bow, and the management of 
 the sword and javelin. We must add that the chiefs 
 contrived to be present when the impetuous youths 
 were at their games, to prevent the quarrels ever 
 ready to break forth on the slightest pretext. 
 
 The third day, toward evening, Tasget and Dumorix, 
 seated on bundles of hay before a hut, were drinking 
 hydromel from a horn while talking together of their 
 plans in an undertone. Tasget was a handsome old 
 man, as calm and cold as Dumorix was eager and im- 
 petuous. They had removed their heavy bronze hel- 
 mets, while Clodic, still loaded with his, to the great 
 detriment of his forehead, roved about near them, spear 
 in hand, as if acting as a guard of honor. At the end 
 of the enclosure was a group of warriors, who were 
 fastening flint heads to their arrows with bitumen, ac- 
 cording to the ancient custom. 
 
 The harsh notes of a horn were heard outside. 
 
 “ That is doubtless Colman, whom I sent to reconnoi- 
 tre, n said Dumorix quietly. 
 
 In fact, one of the young men stationed to guard the 
 door recognized the person who thus announced him- 
 
288 
 
 THE PRE-HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 self, and brought Colman in exhausted with fatigue. 
 Every one rushed to hear the news of which he was 
 the bearer. 
 
 “ Father,” said Colman, “ they are coming : Eve seen 
 them.” 
 
 “They are coming!” cried little Clodic; “so much 
 the better. Where are they?” 
 
 Loud laughter hailed the young soldier’s warlike ex- 
 clamation, and Clodic, furious with rage, tried to beat 
 the mockers, which redoubled the general mirth. 
 
 Nevertheless, the two chiefs remained very grave. 
 
 Colman continued : “ They are coming up the Seine 
 in twenty pirogues : the ovate and bard are with them. 
 I swam across the river several times to keep in ad- 
 vance, and as they have a long circuit to make, they 
 can’t reach here before to-morrow morning.” 
 
 “ They will be weary from having rowed all night, 
 said the chief of the Kimris-Belges, “ and therefore less 
 eager for the battle.” 
 
 “ So,” replied Dumorix, “the ovate has kept his word 
 and armed against us the tribe among whose members I 
 once numbered so many friends ? But enough, my son 
 Colman ; now eat, drink, and rest, that you may be 
 ready for them. — As for you,” he added, addressing 
 the other young men, who crowded around them with 
 eager curiosity, “ keep a careful watch. A warrior may 
 be conquered, but he should never allow himself to be 
 surprised.” 
 
 Each returned to his occupations. The certainty of 
 an attack aroused universal joy, and during the re- 
 mainder of the evening the laughter and jesting never 
 ceased. 
 
THE ALLIES. 
 
 289 
 
 Dumorix and Tasget were left alone before a large 
 jug of hydromel, from which they drank from time to 
 time. 
 
 “ Chief,” said Tasget anxiously, “ we are now brothers, 
 and whatever may be the cause of your quarrel, I and 
 the remnant of my unfortunate tribe are ready to defend 
 you unto death. Yet, I confess, the present state of af- 
 fairs disturbs and alarms me.” 
 
 “ Chief,” interrupted Dumorix with dignity, “ if the 
 peril seems too great, you can still withdraw ; my sons 
 and I alone — ” 
 
 “You insult and have misunderstood me, Dumorix. 
 We have clasped hands, drunk from the same cup ; we 
 are brothers, I tell you, and will fight together against 
 your enemies. We will repulse those who come to 
 snatch your Mona from you and devastate your dwell- 
 ing ; but have you considered that they belong to the 
 powerful nation of the Senons, and after the victory the 
 Senons will call you and me to an account for the blood 
 we have shed ?” 
 
 “ You speak truly, and the idea has already present- 
 ed itself to my mind. Yet I hope that the council of 
 Agendicum * will understand that the ovate’s warriors 
 are the aggressors and we are compelled to defend 
 ourselves.” 
 
 Tasget shook his head. 
 
 “ Don’t rely on that,” he answered ; “ the Senons lis- 
 ten obediently to the druids, and they will doubtless 
 convince them that the sacrifice of Mona would be 
 agreeable to the gods. On the other hand, they will 
 be offended that I, who am soliciting permission for my 
 
 * Agendicum, Sens. 
 
 T 
 
 25 
 
290 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 people to settle on the Senons’ territory, should have 
 entered into a conflict against one of the Senon tribes. 
 Therefore hear what I have done : my brother Divitiac 
 has long been studying to become a Druid priest, and, 
 though not yet received into the order, has numerous 
 relations with the members of the Druid college. I 
 have already sent him once to the arch-druid of Melo- 
 dunum to beseech his protection for my tribe, and hope 
 my request will not be refused. The other day, w r hen 
 I received your message, I again sent Divitiac to Melo- 
 dunum to represent the injustice of the aggression that 
 threatens you and the obligation to aid you under which 
 I found myself. Divitiac has doubtless not yet returned, 
 but he is clever and insinuating; from his lips, like those 
 of Teutates, issue golden fetters. Why should not my 
 brother’s voice be heard ?” 
 
 “ And what do you expect from this message ?” asked 
 Dumorix with eager interest. 
 
 “ Perhaps the arch-druid, forewarned by Divitiac, will 
 send orders to the ovate of Argenteuil that the attack 
 must not take place.” 
 
 A cloud darkened Dumorix’s swarthy brow. 
 
 “ May your hope prove false, chief!” he said angrily. 
 “ I should be sorry not to have an opportunity of fight- 
 ing with sword and lance against the wicked tribe that 
 persecutes Mona.” 
 
 Yet when the first impulse of feeling had subsided* 
 Dumorix, whose warlike instincts were beginning to be 
 subordinate to the mature judgment of riper years, 
 adopted wiser views, and the two friends quietly dis- 
 cussed the possibility of the intervention of a superior 
 power in the armed conflict impending. 
 
THE ALLIES . 
 
 29I 
 
 During this conversation night closed in, and the in- 
 habitants of Loutouhezi, after a substantial repast, ne- 
 glected no precaution to guard the little fortress from 
 a surprise. Sentries were stationed at the important 
 posts ; the hours of relieving the guard were told each 
 warrior; then the two chiefs, instead of retiring to the 
 huts, lay down on heaps of straw in the open air, that 
 they might be ready at the least alarm. 
 
 A little after sunrise, Clodic who, still in his helmet, 
 had climbed to the top of one of the trees in the en- 
 closure, announced that a large number of pirogues was 
 approaching the island. The sound of oars and the 
 dashing of waves caused by the advance of a flotilla were 
 distinctly audible. A low murmur of voices and foot- 
 steps echoed from the shore ; then, as if the new-com- 
 ers had desired to announce their presence, all uttered 
 in concert the fierce yells that were the war-cry of the 
 Gauls. 
 
 The defenders of Loutouhezi rushed to arms. Loop- 
 holes, through which arrows could be discharged, had 
 been cut in the wall at regular distances, and the young 
 warriors stationed themselves before these openings, while 
 Clodic, to his mother’s great regret, remained in his lofty 
 perch. 
 
 The yells suddenly ceased ; the crashing of branches 
 betrayed the march of a large number of men through 
 the woods. At last the notes of a rude guitar were 
 heard, and a bard clad in a blue tunic and crowned with 
 vervain advanced toward the fortified gate. The bards, 
 besides their other official functions, were often bearers 
 of flags of truce, and this man, who was Mona’s former 
 lover, stopped on the edge of the ditch, where he drew 
 
292 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 a few more notes from his guitar and shouted three 
 times. 
 
 Dumorix, in a clear, firm voice, answered through 
 one of the loopholes. The bard, on being sure he was 
 heard, made the following pompous summons : 
 
 “ In the name of the gods and druids, deliver up to 
 us at once Mona the daughter of Bodicea, or you shall 
 all perish. Your dwellings shall be given to the flames, 
 your bodies shall be the prey of ravens, the divine male- 
 diction shall fall upon you and your race.” 
 
 Dumorix, still invisible, answered coldly, 
 
 “ Mona is the wife and mother of warriors. By what 
 right do you claim that she should be given up to you ?” 
 “ The will of the gods is immutable,” said the bard. 
 “ Mona has been pointed out by the augurs as a victim 
 dear to the manes of the dead and to Irminsul. Irmin- 
 sul has spoken in the Druid oak ; he demands the blood 
 of Mona.” 
 
 A shrill voice that seemed to come from the clouds 
 indignantly answered, 
 
 “ Ah! You want to kill Mona, singer? Take that!” 
 Clodic whirled his sling from the tree-top where he 
 was perched, and in spite of his cramped position the 
 stone was hurled with so good an aim that it reached 
 the unfortunate herald, and might have killed him had 
 it not encountered the guitar, which with a plaintive 
 sound shivered into a hundred pieces. 
 
 Shouts and laughter from within the enclosure hailed 
 the act of the brave child, who had desired to deal 
 the first blow in his mother’s defence. The bard stood 
 still a moment in amazement, then turned toward the 
 woods, shouting at the top of his voice, 
 
THE ALLIES. 
 
 293 
 
 " Vengeance, children of Irminsul ! The majesty 
 of the gods is outraged. The impious wretches have 
 attacked a bard, whose person is sacred. Vengeance !” 
 
 Dumorix, and especially Tasget, wished to reprove 
 Clodic for his rudeness, but they had no time to do 
 30. As soon as the bard disappeared amid the foliage 
 the yells commenced anew with redoubled vigor ; a 
 warrior seemed to spring from every tree, and the con- 
 flict began. 
 
 As usual, the combatants were armed with spears, 
 javelins, bows and arrows, but besides their helmets 
 and bucklers some had iron or even bronze coats-of- 
 mail. The use of this defensive armor was beginning 
 to spread among the Gauls, who for a long time had 
 made it a point of honor to appear in battle almost 
 naked. The assailants seemed full of ardor, and their 
 eyes beamed with religious fanaticism inspired by the 
 ovate. 
 
 Part of them rained arrows on the fortifications, 
 while others, forming different groups and covering 
 their bodies with their shields, rushed forward to the 
 assault. The besieged party, posted at the loopholes, 
 discharged arrows in their turn, and as they could 
 take aim at their ease, the effect was terrible. 
 
 Nevertheless, the assailants continued to advance, 
 and on reaching the foot of the wall skilfully climbed 
 on each other’s backs to scale it. Several reached the 
 top, but the defenders fell upon them so impetuously 
 that they were hurled from the ramparts. In vain 
 they rose to return to the charge ; the assailants were 
 twice repelled and forced to retire to the forest, car- 
 rying their dead and wounded. 
 
 25 * 
 
294 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 The young defenders of Loutouhezi uttered shouts 
 of victory, but Dumorix and Tasget, who had not spared 
 themselves during the conflict, warned them that these 
 demonstrations were made too soon, for, according to 
 appearances, the attack was to be renewed more furi- 
 ously than ever. 
 
 In fact, at the end of a few minutes the assailants 
 again emerged from the forest, no longer divided into 
 skirmishing-parties as before, but forming a compact 
 battalion. Besides their weapons, they bore fagots 
 and beams, with the intention of filling up the ditch 
 and bursting the door. In the centre marched the 
 ovate, who was the soul of this expedition. With an 
 oak-bough in his hand and a haughty, threatening air, 
 he seemed convinced that his priestly character would 
 shield him from every danger. 
 
 The ditch was filled in an instant. Then, while the 
 foremost assailants made a “ tortoise ” of their bucklers 
 to protect their companions, the latter attacked the door 
 with axes and beams, which, used as battering-rams, 
 produced a horrible noise above the frenzied shouts of 
 the two parties. 
 
 The besieged warriors bravely defended themselves. 
 From the summit of the ramparts, from every loop- 
 hole, arrows and javelins were constantly discharged 
 at the enemy. The women of the household, accord- 
 ing to the custom of the Gauls under such circum- 
 stances, did not remain inactive. They brought huge 
 stones, piled for this purpose in a corner of the en- 
 closure, and hurled them upon the ovate’s warriors, 
 undisturbed by the arrows that whizzed around them, 
 the terrible cries echoing on all sides. Mona moved 
 
THE ALLIES. 
 
 295 
 
 to and fro incessantly, urging her husband and children 
 to remain steadfast, though perhaps secretly congrat- 
 ulating herself that they were still uninjured. 
 
 The solid door resisted the assailants, several of 
 whom were already wounded. Nevertheless, those that 
 remained did not seem inclined to beat a retreat, and 
 were still trying to shatter the stout planks. It was 
 soon evident that they had relied upon other means 
 of success. 
 
X. 
 
 THE COMPACT 
 
 W HILE the defenders of Loutouhezi were engaged 
 on the side of the fortress near the door, another 
 troop of warriors issued noiselessly from the woods and 
 glided toward a distant portion of the ramparts. One, 
 climbing on his comrades’ shoulders, reached the top 
 of the wall and began to help his companions to join 
 him. A few minutes more and they would all have 
 been within the enclosure, and then, charging from 
 the rear upon Dumorix’s followers, who, as we know, 
 were very few in number, could not have failed to get 
 possession of the place. 
 
 But a vigilant sentinel — no other than little Clodic 
 —had seen the danger. Still perched in his tree in 
 spite of the arrows that whizzed around him, he had 
 replaced with a bow the sling of which he had made 
 so good a use. Uttering shrill cries to give the alarm, 
 he himself discharged an arrow that struck the shield 
 of one of the assailants. 
 
 Dumorix turned, and, seeing what had occurred, 
 made a sign to Tasget to follow him. Both rushed 
 toward the spot where their foes were trying to scale 
 the wall. The women, Mona at their head, followed, 
 armed with anything they could seize. 
 
 296 
 
THE COMPACT 
 
 29 7 
 
 Two warriors from Argenteuil had already entered 
 the enclosure, while the head of a third appeared above 
 the wall. Dumorix and Tasget, though having no 
 weapons except their heavy swords with a single 
 sharp edge, each chose an enemy and stretched him 
 at their feet. Then Dumorix dealt the head which 
 already rose above the rampart a terrible blow, and the 
 man to whom it belonged suddenly disappeared. At 
 the same instant Mona and her companions sent a 
 shower of huge stones on the other assailants, who 
 were forced to beat a retreat, pursued by the triumph- 
 ant shouts of the victorious women. 
 
 Dumorix’s first opponent had been pierced through 
 the breast, and was quite dead, but Tasget’s adversary, 
 protected by his helmet and a stout coat-of-mail, was 
 not even severely wounded. He was merely stunned, 
 and when Dumorix descended from the wall he saw 
 Tasget carefully raising him. 
 
 “ He still breathes, chief,” he said quietly ; “ make 
 haste and cut off his head to finish him.” 
 
 “No, no, brother Dumorix,” replied Tasget; “there 
 is plenty of time for that. This warrior is the chief of 
 the tribe ; let us keep him as a prisoner and hostage.” 
 “ He belongs to you, brother Tasget,” replied Du- 
 morix carelessly. 
 
 The conquered warrior was really beginning to re- 
 cover his consciousness. At Tasget’s command a 
 woman brought leather straps, with which the prisoner 
 was bound after having been deprived of his weapons. 
 This done, Tasget was going to question him, when a 
 still louder and more terrible clamor arose without, 
 announcing some new event. 
 
298 
 
 THE TEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 We know that the ovate, trusting in the sacred of- 
 fice which rendered his person inviolable to both par- 
 ties, stood in the foremost rank of the besiegers, 
 animating them to the conflict. Hitherto, either by 
 accident or in consequence of the respect he inspired, 
 he had braved arrows and javelins with impunity, but 
 no thought had been given to Clodic, who saw in him 
 only his mother’s mortal enemy. So the youthful war- 
 rior chose his sharpest arrow, fitted it to the bow, and, 
 after taking careful aim, discharged it at the ovate. 
 The latter, mortally wounded in the throat, sank on 
 the ground, uttering cries of pain. 
 
 It was this deed, unprecedented among the Gauls, 
 and considered a terrible sacrilege, which had caused 
 such an outcry. A voice rose above the clamor, 
 saying, 
 
 “ The accursed wretches have slain the priest of 
 Irminsul. They have already killed the chief of the 
 tribe. Vengeance for the ovate ! Vengeance for the 
 chief! To the attack! to the attack! Exterminate 
 these impious wretches ! exterminate all, men, women, 
 and children ! Irminsul demands blood ! May who- 
 ever takes a step backward be accursed like them L” 
 “Yes, yes, vengeance!” shouted the warriors, their 
 fury raised to the highest pitch ; “ to the attack !” 
 
 A large number of men whose presence had not 
 been suspected now issued from the woods, and, join- 
 ing the first body of assailants, formed an almost irre- 
 sistible force. Rushing upon all sides of the enclosure 
 at once, they began to scale the walls with marvellous 
 impetuosity. In vain the defenders of Loutouhezi 
 strove to repel them ; how could they hold their 
 
THE COMPACT. 
 
 299 
 
 ground against so numerous an enemy, frenzied by 
 fanaticism and the desire for vengeance ? In an in- 
 stant the warriors from Argenteuil appeared above 
 the rampart, and it seemed as if the fortress could 
 not fail to fall into their possession. But the two 
 chiefs had rapidly exchanged a few words in a low 
 tone. Suddenly, Dumorix seized the captive in his 
 arms and bore him to a terrace that overlooked the 
 wall, and which was visible from all sides. Tasget 
 followed, waving his naked sword. 
 
 Dumorix raised the Gaul, and shouted in tones of 
 thunder, 
 
 “ Warriors, your chief is not dead ; he is not even 
 severely wounded; but if you do not instantly leave 
 my dwelling, I swear by Tarann that the chief’s head 
 shall be severed from his shoulders.” 
 
 The attention of all was attracted to the group formed 
 by the chieftain and the two friends. The attitude of 
 each was sufficiently significant. Dumorix held the fet- 
 tered chief, and Tasget brandished his flashing sword. 
 
 The conflict ceased. The assailants, perceiving their 
 chief’s danger, consulted each other with their eyes, 
 while the defenders of Loutouhezi remained motionless 
 in the presence of this extraordinary scene. 
 
 The chief was greatly beloved by his tribe, and per- 
 haps, to purchase his life, his followers would have re- 
 tired, but he himself recalled them to their duty. 
 
 “ Warriors,” he shouted, “ do not heed me. What 
 does it matter if I die, provided you give me a bloody 
 funeral ? Strike the accursed outlaws with spear, lance, 
 and javelin ! To the attack ! Avenge the gods ! avenge 
 the ovate! avenge me!” 
 
300 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD. 
 
 A certain number of warriors did not seem to wish tc 
 obey this command, but others, yielding to their fiery 
 ardor, prepared to resume the conflict. Tasget, pitiless 
 as Fate, raised his sword to sever the chief’s head as 
 Dumorix had threatened. 
 
 At this moment sweet music, consisting of singing 
 and stringed instruments, was heard from the woods 
 and slowly approached. Soon through the ramparts 
 of logs, in which large breaches had been made, ap- 
 peared a majestic procession, the sight of which in- 
 spired the combatants with mingled astonishment, rever- 
 ence, and fear. At the head marched bards clad in 
 blue garments, singing a sacred hymn to the accom- 
 paniment of their guitars. Then came the young men 
 who aspired to the dignity of the Druid priesthood, 
 and were called disciples. Among them was a herald 
 attired in white ; he wore a hat surmounted with two 
 wings and carried a wand made of a branch of vervain 
 and two serpents. Finally, came the principal per- 
 sonage in the train, a handsome old man in a white 
 robe, crowned with oak-leaves and holding in his 
 hand a branch of mistletoe. At his belt hung a 
 gold sickle, attesting his high rank in the Druidical 
 hierarchy. 
 
 A number of priests in green robes and several war- 
 riors in garments striped with red formed a guard of 
 honor around the old man with the gold sickle. 
 
 All these people had just arrived in boats that touched 
 at the other end of the island, and their appearance, as 
 we have said, was a source of astonishment to besiegers 
 as well as besieged. When the train had reached the 
 door of the fortress it stopped, the songs ceased, and the 
 
THE COMPACT 
 
 301 
 
 herald, having received his orders from the personage in 
 the white robe, cried amid universal silence, 
 
 “ Let blood cease to flow ; let the warriors lay aside 
 their arms. Here is the illustrious and venerable arch- 
 druid of Melodunum, who will judge your quarrel and 
 make known to you the will of Irminsul, who has 
 spoken to him from the Druid oak.” 
 
 This adjuration was so powerful, so sacred, that not 
 one of the Gauls from Argenteuil thought of opposing 
 it. Those already on the ramparts hastily descended ; 
 swords were restored to their sheaths, arrows to their 
 quivers. The warriors, suddenly grown humble and 
 timid, approached the arch-druid. 
 
 Submission was not so prompt and complete among 
 the defenders of Loutouhezi. The sons of Dumorix 
 and their allies looked at each other, not knowing what 
 to do under circumstances so novel. Dumorix him- 
 self seemed greatly embarrassed ; but Tasget, who 
 from the terrace had lost no detail of the scene, said 
 hurriedly, 
 
 “ Dumorix, do not hesitate to accept the arbitration 
 of the high -priest of Melodunum. His intentions, I 
 am sure, are friendly. Among his followers I have 
 just seen my brother Divitiac, who made signs of 
 peace. Open your door to the arch-druid ; show him 
 confidence and respect ; we shall have no cause to re- 
 gret it.” 
 
 “ But if he persists in claiming Mona ?” 
 
 “ We will defend her — I promise you we will defend 
 her unto death — but we need fear nothing of that sort.” 
 Dumorix had already had many an occasion to per 
 ceive the prudence of the old chief of the Kimris- 
 26 
 
302 
 
 THE P RE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 Beiges. So this time also he yielded to the influence 
 Tasget exerted over him. 
 
 “ I will trust to you,” he replied. “You have had 
 a long life, and we will share the same fortune.” 
 They advanced toward the half-shattered door, and 
 after having removed the solid fastenings, threw it 
 wide open. This mark of submission to the vener- 
 able dignitary seemed to produce an excellent effect 
 upon the warriors of Argenteuil. 
 
 Dumorix approached the druid and said, 
 “High-priest of Irminsul, my home is closed only 
 against my enemies — those who present themselves with 
 arms in their hands. Enter and judge between these 
 men and me. I will submit to your decision, for you 
 are wise and the gods speak through your lips.” 
 
 The arch-druid, in his turn, was flattered by this sub- 
 mission from a man who had doubtless been represented 
 to him as ungovernable. He made a sign of assent, 
 walked by Dumorix’s side with a dignified step, and, 
 entering the fortified enclosure, sat down on a stone 
 before the huts. 
 
 His train, as well as most of the assailants, had fol- 
 owed and formed a circle around him. The escort 
 and the warriors from Argenteuil occupied the space 
 near the door, while Dumorix’s sons and the Kimris- 
 Belges remained in the rear of the enclosure. At the 
 end the women, among whom Mona was easily recog- 
 nized, formed a modest, silent group. Tasget and Du- 
 morix, by virtue of their rank as chiefs, remained alone 
 in the circle. Through the wide-open door appeared 
 a number of warriors of lower rank leaning on their 
 shields or lances. 
 
THE COMPACT 
 
 303 
 
 Deep silence pervaded the assembly. Soon the old 
 arch-druid, whose movements were slow and solemn, 
 said majestically, 
 
 “ Speak, Dumorix ! I will listen/’ 
 
 Dumorix related simply, but not without a certain 
 rude eloquence, Mona’s story and his own, from the 
 day Mona had been designated by the augurs to be 
 sacrificed on the tomb of Hatt, the former chief. 
 
 The arch-druid, after having listened impassively to 
 the recital of these events, which were already known 
 to him, made no haste to pronounce his judgment. 
 It was only after a long pause that he asked, 
 
 “ Is the present chief of Argenteuil still alive ?” 
 
 “ Illustrious arch-druid,” replied Dumorix, “ I might 
 have cut off his head, as is my right when he came 
 to destroy my home and kill my family, but he is 
 still alive.” 
 
 “ Bring him to me.” 
 
 Dumorix hesitated an instant, but Tasget went in 
 search of the prisoner and led him before the arch- 
 druid. 
 
 “ Release the chief,” said the old man. 
 
 Tasget instantly liberated the prisoner. The arch- 
 druid, turning to the assembly, emphatically contin- 
 ued, 
 
 “ Faithful children of Irminsul, Dumorix snatched a 
 victim from the manes of the chieftain Hatt; he gives 
 your present chief his life when by the laws of war 
 that life belongs to him; justice is satisfied. Besides, 
 perhaps the ovate of Argenteuil did not correctly inter- 
 pret the will of the gods in designating Mona as an 
 expiatory victim and pronouncing an anathema upon 
 
3°4 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 Mona, Dumorix, and all their descendants. If the 
 gods had ratified this curse, Dumorix and Mona would 
 long ago have perished miserably, crushed by the mal- 
 ediction. On the contrary, we see both loaded with 
 wealth and prosperity. Irminsul therefore did not ap- 
 prove of the sentence pronounced against them, and I 
 remove it for ever.” 
 
 We perceive that the old druid, with wonderful skill, 
 had found means to reconcile certain facts which his 
 followers might have interpreted against sacerdotal in- 
 fallibility. 
 
 This decision, which closed the war by restoring Du- 
 morix and his family to the privileges enjoyed by all, 
 was followed by a murmur of satisfaction from the ad- 
 herents of both parties. But the herald, who seemed 
 to include among his prerogatives the duty of guard- 
 ing ancient rites and customs, advanced into the circle 
 and said respectfully, 
 
 “ Venerable arch-druid, your wisdom equals your 
 divine knowledge. Yet remember that the ovate of 
 Argenteuil has been slain by one of Dumorix’s war- 
 riors, and our law is inexorable. He who has slain a 
 druid must die by torture.” 
 
 Perhaps the arch-druid secretly cherished no love for 
 the ovate, to whom only a few days before he had re- 
 fused a human victim, and whose interpretation of the 
 will of the gods he had just distinctly disavowed ; but 
 the law quoted by the herald existed, and the august 
 dignitary, notwithstanding his almost supreme power, 
 could not refuse to recognize it in the presence of the 
 assembled population. So with his usual majesty of 
 demeanor he replied, 
 
THE COMPACT. 
 
 305 
 
 u The murder of a priest of Irminsul is the greatest 
 crime a mortal can commit. Let the sacrilegious wretch 
 be brought before me, and, according to the law, perish 
 in torments.” 
 
 The greatest agitation pervaded the ranks of the 
 defenders of Loutouhezi. No one knew who had 
 killed the ovate, and each was seeking some person 
 to whom the deed might be imputed. A shrill voice 
 was heard in the air, 
 
 “ I killed the wicked ovate. Here I am !” 
 
 And Clodic, climbing nimbly down the tree which 
 had served as a post during the conflict, fell on his 
 bare feet a few paces from the arch-druid. His face 
 and hands were scratched by the rough bark, his gar- 
 ments were in a pitiable plight, but he still held his 
 bow and sling, and had proudly donned the huge hel- 
 met that gave him so grotesque an appearance. 
 
 As he approached, drawing up his little figure to its 
 full height, an exclamation of agony issued from the 
 group of women. 
 
 “ Clodic ! my dear Clodic !” cried Mona. 
 
 She tried to rush forward to protect her son, but she 
 was held back and dragged away. 
 
 At the sight of Clodic an angry murmur ran through 
 the crowd, while fear seized upon the relatives and 
 friends of the little culprit. The arch -druid’s snow- 
 white eyebrows contracted in a frown. 
 
 The unfortunate child seemed lost, and already threat 
 ening hands were raised against him. Tasget, whose 
 presence of mind never failed, seized the boy, snatched 
 off his helmet and revealed to the eyes of all the 
 juvenile, beardless features of the would-be warrior, 
 26 # U 
 
306 
 
 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD . 
 
 Then he burst into a loud laugh, which, though per- 
 haps a little forced, was no less likely to find an echo. 
 
 In fact, the incident afforded a fresh proof of the 
 volatility and susceptibility to every new impression 
 which lay at the bottom of the character of the Gauls, 
 and were afterward to mark their descendants. Clodic’s 
 startled face and affectation of dignity and stoicism 
 excited a general laugh that extended even to the 
 most remote spectators on the borders of the wood. 
 
 This laugh, which exasperated the ovate’s murderer, 
 also acquitted him. The arch-druid rose. 
 
 “ It is a child,” he said with contemptuous forbear- 
 ance ; “ the anger of the gods, the vengeance of war- 
 riors, could not descend to him. Let the child be 
 given to his mother.” 
 
 And Clodic, in spite of his protestations, was deliv- 
 ered to Mona, elated with joy and pride. 
 
 The invaders of Loutouhezi now seemed to have 
 nothing more to do except enter their boats and depart ; 
 but the arch -druid, who had just exchanged a few 
 words with Divitiac, Tasget’s brother, had not yet ac- 
 complished the mission for which he had left his 
 usual residence at Melodunum. He made a sign with 
 his hand ; the assembly once more listened intently. 
 
 “ Children of Irminsul,” he said aloud, “ hear what 
 the assembly of druids and the council of the Senons, 
 residing at Agendicum, have decided : Dumorix son 
 of Caletes, and Tasget, chief of a tribe of Kimris-Belges, 
 have informed us that they intended to make but one 
 tribe, and have requested permission to settle permanent- 
 ly on the territory where we now are. The druids and 
 council have received the request of the two chiefs 
 
THE COMPACT. 
 
 307 
 
 with favor. — Will you, Dumorix, and you, Tasget, 
 take before me and these warriors the vow to be faith- 
 ful friends and devoted allies to the whole nation of 
 the Senons ?” 
 
 Deep silence still reigned. 
 
 “ Venerable arch-druid,” replied Dumorix, “ I can be 
 in future as faithful a friend to my neighbors as I proved 
 an implacable enemy when they persecuted me. But 
 here is my brother Tasget to answer for me. We are 
 both determined henceforward to make one family. 
 His daughters will offer the cup to my sons ; we will 
 live under the same roofs, worship the same gods.” 
 Tasget spoke iji his turn. 
 
 “ High priest of Irminsul,” said he, “ my beloved 
 brother Divitiac must have shown you how important 
 it is for the nation of the Senons to have on their 
 lonely and desolate frontiers an active and warlike tribe 
 that will oppose a strong barricade against their turbu- 
 lent neighbors : we will be that tribe. The alliance be- 
 tween our families and the sons of Dumorix will be a 
 fruitful one. He was proscribed, we were exiled ; com- 
 mon interests, a common affection, have united us. 
 Both now and in the future we shall be loyal allies to 
 the hospitable nation of the Senons.” 
 
 “Then the nation adopts you for its children,” said 
 the arch-druid solemnly. “ Chief of the Kimris-Belges, 
 what name did your tribe bear in the country which 
 the misfortunes of war compelled you to leave.” 
 
 “ Illustrious arch-druid,” replied Tasget, “ my tribe 
 was powerful until the day innumerable enemies shed 
 its blood like water and the birds with yellow feet came 
 to feed on corpses. But it will raise its head again on 
 
308 
 
 THE FEE-HISTORIC WORLD . 
 
 this friendly soil, and its warriors once more become 
 as numerous as the stars in the sky. It was called 
 and still bears the name of the Parises .” 
 
 “ Then, in the name of the gods,” said the arch-druid 
 solemnly, raising his arms toward heaven, “ in the name 
 of the sacred assembly of the druids, in the name of the 
 chief and council of Agendicum, I proclaim as a portion 
 of the confederacy of the Senons the tribe of Parises and 
 the city it is to found at Loutouhezi, its present place of 
 refuge. May the protection of the gods descend upon 
 the tribe and city !” 
 
 Acclamations of joy hailed these words. There was 
 no one who did not feel the importance of the act that 
 had just been accomplished in a political point of view. 
 The warriors struck their shields with their spears and 
 sabres ; the women made the air re-echo with shouts 
 of joy; the bards, seizing their instruments, chanted a 
 song of triumph. 
 
 At the same instant the sun, which was just setting, 
 cast a fiery ray into the clearing where this scene was 
 transpiring. As the arch-druid with his majestic air, 
 white robe, crown of oak-leaves, and gold sickle raised 
 his arms toward heaven, a flood of dazzling light fell 
 upon the aged high priest, the warriors in their various 
 costumes, the bards with their harmonious songs, the 
 verdant woods; one would have said that Heaven de- 
 sired to announce by a sign the lofty destiny which 
 awaited the city of the Parises. 
 
 After Dumorix’s family united with the Parises, Lou- 
 touhezi apparently long remained a simple place of 
 refuge for the tribes ere it became a city. In fact, we 
 
THE COMPACT. 
 
 309 
 
 know that the Gauls usually lived apart from each other 
 in the country, and it was only in time of war that they 
 shut themseh es up in fortified places with their families 
 and herds. When Labienus, Caesar’s lieutenant, came 
 with several legions to attack Loutouhezi, which was 
 defended by the brave and able Camulogenes, no very 
 long time had passed since the Parises had obtained 
 from the Senons permission to settle there. Tradition 
 — niemoria patrum y says Caesar — still preserved the 
 story. The city and territory of the Parises could not 
 have had a numerous population, for when the various 
 Gallic nations united against Caesar the contingent of 
 the Parises was only about two thousand men, while 
 the JE dui and Arverni each sent thirty - five thou- 
 sand to the Gallic army. 
 
 But we must stop here ; we are touching the confines 
 of actual history, and fiction must give place to reality. 
 The Loutouhezi of the Parises became Lutece y Lutetia , 
 or Loutecia Parisiorum . 
 
 From the period of the occupation of Gaul by the 
 Romans history remains silent for four hundred years 
 in regard to Lutece and the Parises. Nevertheless, we 
 cannot help mentioning a monument which dates back 
 to this epoch. This monument is the altar of Jupiter, 
 discovered in the excavations under the choir of Notre 
 Dame, and whose stone bas-reliefs and inscriptions * we 
 still possess. It proves that in the time of Tiberius the 
 Parisian boatmen who reared this altar formed a power- 
 ful body. The situation of Lutece, in fact, was wonder- 
 fully favorable to the trade, and the corporation existed 
 a long time under the name of Mercatores aquce Parisi- 
 * Museum of Cluny. 
 
310 THE P RE- HIS T ORIC WORLD. 
 
 ^/—Parisian water-merchants. It was perhaps on ac- 
 count of this circumstance, and not because of the 
 shape of the island where the city stood (said to be the 
 form of a ship), that Paris assumed for its coat-of-arms 
 “ a ship under full sail.” 
 
 Alas ! the beautiful, noble vessel that for so many 
 centuries bore the riches of civilization, the inestimable 
 treasures of science and art, the titles of the glory of 
 humanity, almost perished a short time ago in a horri- 
 ble tempest. But it escaped shipwreck, and once more 
 spreads its “ silver sails on an azure field ” to the favor- 
 ing breeze: Fluctuat nec mergitur. 
 
 THE ENiX 
 
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