In such caves as these--so has the obstinate legend run
for centuries--there still dwell cave-men, the dwindling
remnant of their race. And here it was that I came across
him.
I had penetrated into the caves far beyond my guides. I
carried a revolver and had with me an electric lantern,
but the increasing sunlight in the cave as I went on had
rendered the latter needless.
There he sat, a huge figure, clad in a great wolfskin.
Besides him lay a great club. Across his knee was a spear
round which he was binding sinews that tightened under
his muscular hand. His head was bent over his task. His
matted hair had fallen over his eyes. He did not see me
till I was close beside him on the sanded floor of the
cave. I gave a slight cough.
"Excuse me!" I said.
The Cave-man gave a startled jump.
"My goodness," he said, "you startled me!"
I could see that he was quite trembling.
"You came along so suddenly," he said, "it gave me the
jumps." Then he muttered, more to himself than to me,
"Too much of this darned cave-water! I must quit drinking it."
I sat down near to the Caveman on a stone, taking care
to place my revolver carefully behind it. I don't mind
admitting that a loaded revolver, especially as I get
older, makes me nervous.
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