VII. The Cave-Man as He is
I think it likely that few people besides myself have ever actually seenand spoken with a "cave-man."
Yet everybody nowadays knows all about the cave-man. The fifteen-centmagazines and the new fiction have made him a familiar figure. A fewyears ago, it is true, nobody had ever heard of him. But lately,for some reason or other, there has been a run on the cave-man. Noup-to-date story is complete without one or two references to him. Thehero, when the heroine slights him, is said to "feel for a moment thewild, primordial desire of the cave-man, the longing to seize her, todrag her with him, to carry her away, to make her his." When he takesher in his arms it is recorded that "all the elemental passion of thecave-man surges through him." When he fights, on her behalf against adray-man or a gun-man or an ice-man or any other compound that makes upa modern villain, he is said to "feel all the fierce fighting joy of thecave-man." If they kick him in the ribs, he likes it. If they beathim over the head, he never feels it; because he is, for the moment,a cave-man. And the cave-man is, and is known to be, quite abovesensation.
The heroine, too, shares the same point of view. "Take me," she murmursas she falls into the hero's embrace, "be my cave-man." As she says itthere is, so the writer assures us, something of the fierce light of thecave-woman in her eyes, the primordial woman to be wooed and won only byforce.
So, like everybody else, I had, till I saw him, a great idea of thecave-man. I had a clear mental picture of him--huge, brawny, muscular,a wolfskin thrown about him and a great war-club in his hand. I knewhim as without fear with nerves untouched by our effete civilization,fighting, as the beasts fight, to the death, killing without pity andsuffering without a moan.
It was a picture that I could not but admire.
I liked, too--I am free to confess it--his peculiar way with women. Hissystem was, as I understood it, to take them by the neck and bring themalong with him. That was his fierce, primordial way of "wooing" them.And they liked it. So at least we are informed by a thousand credibleauthorities. They liked it. And the modern woman, so we are told, wouldstill like it if only one dared to try it on. There's the trouble; ifone only _dared_!
I see lots of them--I'll be frank about it--that I should like to grab,to sling over my shoulder and carry away with me; or, what is the samething, allowing for modern conditions, have an express man carry them.I notice them at Atlantic City, I see them in Fifth Avenue--yes,everywhere. But would they come? That's the _deuce_ of it. Would theycome right along, like the cave-woman, merely biting off my ear asthey came, or are they degenerate enough to bring an action against me,indicting the express company as a party of the second part?
Doubts such as these prevent me from taking active measures. But theyleave me, as they leave many another man, preoccupied and fascinatedwith the cave-man.
One may imagine, then, my extraordinary interest in him when I actuallymet him in the flesh. Yet the thing came about quite simply, indeed moreby accident than by design, an adventure open to all.
It so happened that I spent my vacation in Kentucky--the region, aseverybody knows, of the great caves. They extend--it is a matter ofcommon knowledge--for hundreds of miles; in some places dark and sunlesstunnels, the black silence broken only by the dripping of the water fromthe roof; in other places great vaults like subterranean temples, withvast stone arches sweeping to the dome, and with deep, still water ofunfathomed depth as the floor; and here and there again they are lightedfrom above through rifts in the surface of the earth, and are dry andsand strewn--fit for human habitation.
In such caves as these--so has the obstinate legend run forcenturies--there still dwell cave-men, the dwindling remnant of theirrace. And here it was that I came across him.
I had penetrated into the caves far beyond my guides. I carried arevolver and had with me an electric lantern, but the increasingsunlight 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 laya great club. Across his knee was a spear round which he was bindingsinews that tightened under his muscular hand. His head was bent overhis task. His matted hair had fallen over his eyes. He did not see metill I was close beside him on the sanded floor of the cave. I gave aslight 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." Thenhe muttered, more to himself than to me, "Too much of this darnedcave-water! I must quit drinking it."
I sat down near to the Caveman on a stone, taking care to place myrevolver carefully behind it. I don't mind admitting that a loadedrevolver, especially as I get older, makes me nervous. I was afraid thathe might start fooling with it. One can't be too careful.
As a way of opening conversation I picked up the Cave-man's club.
"Say," I said, "that's a great club you have, eh? By gee! it's heavy!"
"Look out!" said the Cave-man with a certain agitation in his voice ashe reached out and took the club from me. "Don't fool with that club!It's loaded! You know you could easily drop the club on your toes, or onmine. A man can't be too careful with a loaded club."
He rose as he said this and carried the club to the other side of thecave, where he leant it against the wall. Now that he stood up and Icould examine him he no longer looked so big. In fact he was not big atall. The effect of size must have come, I think, from the great wolfskinthat he wore. I have noticed the same thing in Grand Opera. I noticed,too, for the first time that the cave we were in seemed fitted up, in arude sort of way, like a dwelling-room.
"This is a nice place you've got," I said.
"Dandy, isn't it?" he said, as he cast his eyes around. "_She_ fixedit up. She's got great taste. See that mud sideboard? That's the realthing, A-one mud! None of your cheap rock about that. We fetched thatmud for two miles to make that. And look at that wicker bucket. Isn'tit great? Hardly leaks at all except through the sides, and perhapsa little through the bottom. _She_ wove that. She's a humdinger atweaving."
He was moving about as he spoke, showing me all his little belongings.He reminded me for all the world of a man in a Harlem flat, showing avisitor how convenient it all is. Somehow, too, the Cave-man had lostall appearance of size. He looked, in fact, quite little, and when hehad pushed his long hair back from his forehead he seemed to wear thatsame, worried, apologetic look that we all have. To a higher being, ifthere is such, our little faces one and all appear, no doubt, pathetic.
I knew that he must be speaking about his wife.
"Where is she?" I asked.
"My wife?" he said. "Oh, she's gone out somewhere through the caves withthe kid. You didn't meet our kid as you came along, did you? No? Well,he's the greatest boy you even saw. He was only two this nineteenth ofAugust. And you should hear him say 'Pop' and 'Mom' just as if he wasgrown up. He is really, I think, about the brightest boy I've everknown--I mean quite apart from being his father, and speaking of him asif he were anyone else's boy. You didn't meet them?"
"No," I said, "I didn't."
"Oh, well," the Cave-man went on, "there are lots of ways and passagesthrough. I guess they went in another direction. The wife generallylikes to take a stroll round in the morning and see some of theneighbours. But, say," he interrupted, "I guess I'm forgetting mymanners. Let me get you a drink of cave-water. Here, take it in thisstone mug! There you are, say when! Where do we get it? Oh, we find itin parts of the cave where it filters through the soil above. Alcoholic?Oh, yes, about fifteen per cent, I think. Some say it soaks all throughthe soil of this State. Sit down and be comfortable, and, say if youhear the woman coming just slip your mug behind that stone out of sight.Do you mind? Now, try one of these elm-root cigars. Oh, pick a goodone--there are lots of them!"
We seated ourselves in some comfort on the soft sand, our backs againstthe boulders, sipping cave-water
and smoking elm-root cigars. It seemedaltogether as if one were back in civilization, talking to a genialhost.
"Yes," said the Cave-man, and he spoke, as it were, in a large andpatronizing way. "I generally let my wife trot about as she likes inthe daytime. She and the other women nowadays are getting up all thesedifferent movements, and the way I look at it is that if it amusesher to run around and talk and attend meetings, why let her do it. Ofcourse," he continued, assuming a look of great firmness, "if I liked toput my foot down--"
"Exactly, exactly," I said. "It's the same way with us!"
"Is it now!" he questioned with interest. "I had imagined that it wasall different Outside. You're from the Outside, aren't you? I guessedyou must be from the skins you wear."
"Have you never been Outside?" I asked.
"No fear!" said the Cave-man. "Not for mine! Down here in the caves,clean underground and mostly in the dark, it's all right. It's nice andsafe." He gave a sort of shudder. "Gee! You fellows out there musthave your nerve to go walking around like that on the outside rim ofeverything, where the stars might fall on you or a thousand thingshappen to you. But then you Outside Men have got a natural elementalfearlessness about you that we Cave-men have lost. I tell you, I waspretty scared when I looked up and saw you standing there."
"Had you never seen any Outside Men?" I asked.
"Why, yes," he answered, "but never close. The most I've done is togo out to the edges of the cave sometimes and look out and see them,Outside Men and Women, in the distance. But of course, in one way oranother, we Cave-men know all about them. And the thing we envy mostin you Outside Men is the way you treat your women! By gee! You take nononsense from them--you fellows are the real primordial, primitive men.We've lost it somehow."
"Why, my dear fellow--" I began.
But the Cave-man, who had sat suddenly upright, interrupted.
"Quick! quick!" he said. "Hide that infernal mug! She's coming. Don'tyou hear!"
As he spoke I caught the sound of a woman's voice somewhere in the outerpassages of the cave.
"Now, Willie," she was saying, speaking evidently to the Cave-child,"you come right along back with me, and if I ever catch you getting insuch a mess as that again I'll never take you anywhere, so there!"
Her voice had grown louder. She entered the cave as she spoke--abig-boned woman in a suit of skins leading by the hand a pathetic littlemite in a rabbit-skin, with blue eyes and a slobbered face.
But as I was sitting the Cave-woman evidently couldn't see me; for sheturned at once to speak to her husband, unconscious of my presence.
"Well, of all the idle creatures!" she exclaimed. "Loafing here in thesand"--she gave a sniff--"and smoking--"
"My dear," began the Cave-man.
"Don't you my-dear me!" she answered. "Look at this place! Nothingtidied up yet and the day half through! Did you put the alligator on toboil?"
"I was just going to say--" began the Cave-man.
"_Going_ to say! Yes, I don't doubt you were going to say. You'd go onsaying all day if I'd let you. What I'm asking you is, is the alligatoron to boil for dinner or is it not--My gracious!" She broke off all ofa sudden, as she caught sight of me. "Why didn't you say there wascompany? Land sakes! And you sit there and never say there was agentleman here!"
She had hustled across the cave and was busily arranging her hair with apool of water as a mirror.
"Gracious!" she said, "I'm a perfect fright! You must excuse me," sheadded, looking round toward me, "for being in this state. I'd justslipped on this old fur blouse and run around to a neighbour's and I'dno idea that he was going to bring in company. Just like him! I'm afraidwe've nothing but a plain alligator stew to offer you, but I'm sure ifyou'll stay to dinner--"
She was hustling about already, good primitive housewife that she was,making the stone-plates rattle on the mud table.
"Why, really--" I began. But I was interrupted by a sudden exclamationfrom both the Cave-man and the Cave-woman together:
"Willie! where's Willie!"
"Gracious!" cried the woman. "He's wandered out alone--oh, hurry, lookfor him! Something might get him! He may have fallen in the water! Oh,hurry!"
They were off in a moment, shouting into the dark passages of the outercave: "Willie! Willie!" There was agonized anxiety in their voices.
And then in a moment, as it seemed, they were back again, with Willie intheir arms, blubbering, his rabbit-skin all wet.
"Goodness gracious!" said the Cave-woman. "He'd fallen right in, thepoor little man. Hurry, dear, and get something dry to wrap him in!Goodness, what a fright! Quick, darling, give me something to rub himwith."
Anxiously the Cave-parents moved about beside the child, all quarrelvanished.
"But surely," I said, as they calmed down a little, "just there whereWillie fell in, beside the passage that I came through, there is onlythree inches of water."
"So there is," they said, both together, "but just suppose it had beenthree feet!"
Later on, when Willie was restored, they both renewed their invitationto me to stay to dinner.
"Didn't you say," said the Cave-man, "that you wanted to make some noteson the difference between Cave-people and the people of your world ofto-day?"
"I thank you," I answered, "I have already all the notes I want!"
VIII. Ideal Interviews