Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 35: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE SON OF THE RED GOD. by the exquisite carving and shaping of those same tools. His ax, the flint head bound to the wooden shaft by thongs of deer-hide, bore at the end a little knob to keep the hand from slipping, and this knob was fashioned in the form of a bear; his throwing-stick, with shaft of wood and cup of bone, was decorated with outline drawings of mam- moth, lion, and hyena, and the knob at the end was in the form ofa bat, feared and worshiped by the Ta-an, who called it the Devil of the Air. The young man was naked save for a girdle of lion’s hide, into which was thrust his flint dagger, and for a leopard-skin quiver over his shoulder, to hold his darts; his ax and throwing-stick he carried in his hands. One who knew the customs of the Ta-an might recognize En-ro for an artist by an- other sign as well, for his hands were unmutilated. When each boy of the tribe came to the-age of fifteen he was taken before the priests, his station in the tribe, whether artist, priest, chieftain, hunter or other was determined, and one or more of his fingers—but never the thumb—solemnly cut off at the first or middle joint; artists only kept the hands entire. So the Carver of Tusks climbed the mountain, the priest at his side trotting and panting in the effort to keep up with the young man’s long, unhurried strides, and as the pair drew near the group of tribesmen parted again to give them passage, a mur- mur of respectful admiration following the most famous artist of the Ta-an. En-ro came up to the priests and bowed to Men-ko with deference, yet with some- thing of hostility showing in his eyes. ‘“T am here,” he said. ‘En-ro,” spoke the High Priest, ‘it is known to you that the time of the Great Hunt is drawing close, that the beasts must be slain to furnish food through the winter, that the flesh of sheep and wild ass must be dried in the sun to keep the tribesmen when the snow lies deep on the ground and the wind bites hard and we may not leave the caves. Also, do you know that the priests of Ta-an have labored long and hard to ~ build the altar of the Great Hunt here on 185 the roof of the world, that sacrifice may be made to bring us favor in the eyes of O-Ma- Ken, Great Father of the People of the Mountain Caves. “But the last—the very last—of the chosen stones is held by two others, so that we cannot move it. You are the strongest of all the tribesmen; try now to move the stone. Much honor, and the favor of the Great Father shall be yours if you can loosen the stone.” En-ro smiled, a little scornfully. ‘“ Men-ko,” he said, ‘‘ much honor have I already, more than any other among the Ta-an, save only yourself and Snorr, the Chieftain. Nevertheless, for the favor of the Great Father, I will try.” He turned to the stone, looked carefully at it on all sides, then laid aside his weapons, and, bending over, placed his hands beneath the rock. Once, twice, and again he heaved, and the muscles of his arms and back and legs started out like twisting ropes, but still the stone lay fixed. Panting, the sweat trickling down his face, En-ro straightened up and looked again at the stone, while the priests shook their heads mournfully—bad fortune was sure to follow if one of the chosen stones was abandoned. But as the Carver of Tusks gazed in thought there came to him a vague, half-erased memory of some- thing he had once seen while hunting. Suddenly he grunted, turned from the rock, lifted his stone ax, and walked quickly down the mountain to the edge of the forest, where he cut down a young tree, a sapling, a little thicker than his arm, trimmed off the branches, and returned, the priests look- ing at him in wonder. Thrusting one end— the larger end—of his lever under the rock, he placed his shoulder beneath the other end and lifted. : The sapling bent and crackled, but the great rock quivered, stirred and lifted, and with a shout the priests sprang forward and turned it over, tearing it from the place where it had lain wedged, while the tribes- men, amazed at the new and strange tool invented by the artist before their very eyes, set up a cry: “Great is En-ro, the Carver of Tusks! Great and wise and skilled and strong!”’ (EO) NOOK ANG (C@)