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Title: Bolo the cave boy

Author: Katharine Atherton Grimes

Illustrator: L. J. Wilson

Release date: November 22, 2022 [eBook #69405]

Language: English

Original publication: United States: F. A. Owen Publishing Company, 1915

Credits: Demian Katz, Craig Kirkwood, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy of the Digital Library@Villanova University.)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOLO THE CAVE BOY ***


Transcriber’s Notes:

Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_), and text
enclosed by equal signs is in bold (=bold=).

Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Instructor Literature Series--No. 256_

Bolo the Cave Boy

[Illustration]

_By Katherine Atherton Grimes_

F. A. OWEN PUBLISHING COMPANY, DANSVILLE, N. Y.

       *       *       *       *       *

INSTRUCTOR LITERATURE SERIES




Bolo the Cave Boy


  BY
  _Katherine Atherton Grimes_

  ILLUSTRATED BY L. J. WILSON

  [Illustration]

  F. A. OWEN PUBLISHING COMPANY,
  DANSVILLE, N. Y.

  _Copyright, 1915, by F. A. Owen Publishing Co._

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: “For a long time nothing happened”]

       *       *       *       *       *

Bolo the Cave Boy




CHAPTER I How Bolo Got His Dinner


Bolo crept carefully through the tall grass. With one brown hand he
parted the stalks before him, and in the other he carried a noose made
from a slender willow withe. His bright, black eyes peered cautiously
about at every step.

Some distance ahead of him a small gray rabbit was hopping slowly
along, stopping here and there to take a nibble of tender, young grass,
or to stand up on his hind legs and look about him. Bolo was hungry and
he thought a little rabbit would make him a good dinner.

Closer and closer he crept. He raised the noose for a throw. Then all
at once the little animal pricked up his long ears, gave one startled
look ahead and plunged off into the thick grass.

At the same moment a boy about as large as Bolo broke through the grass
just beyond where the rabbit had stood. He did not see the rabbit. All
he saw was Bolo standing with arm upraised and an angry frown on his
dark face.

Bolo struck at the boy with his willow wand. He was very angry at him
for scaring away the rabbit.

“Why do you strike at me?” said the boy, whose name was Fisher.

“You drove away my dinner,” said Bolo fiercely.

“I did not see any dinner,” replied Fisher.

“It was a fine rabbit,” said Bolo sulkily, “and I am very hungry.”

“So am I,” said the boy. “Let us go and catch a fish.”

Bolo’s face grew less angry.

“I cannot catch fish,” he said. “I can only catch rabbits.”

“I will show you how,” said Fisher.

Bolo saw that Fisher had something in his hand. It was a long, stout
cord of reindeer sinew, and on one end of it was tied a splinter of
bone. The splinter was sharp at both ends and the cord was fastened to
the middle of it.

The boys left the thick grass and ran down the slope to the river.

There were many trees growing near it, and some of them had long
branches which hung out over the water. Fisher caught hold of a branch
and swung himself nimbly into a tree. Then he crawled out on a limb
that reached out over the river. Bolo followed him.

“We must be very still now,” said Fisher.

He unwound the roll of sinew and dropped the bone splinter into the
water. It was only two or three minutes before Bolo saw a shining fish
leap up and catch it.

Fisher laughed and pulled the fish out of the water. But before he
could get hold of it, it had struggled loose and fallen into the river
again.

“I think I can catch a fish,” said Bolo.

He slid down the tree and crept close to the edge of the water. He kept
very still. In a few minutes he saw a big fish come very close to the
shore. He made a quick spring and caught it in his hands.

Fisher came down the tree quickly.

“I could not catch a fish like that,” he said.

“I catch rabbits that way sometimes,” said Bolo.

The boys were so hungry that they did not wait to catch any more fish.
They climbed back into the tree and sat down on a limb. They rubbed the
fish against the rough bark to loosen the scales, then they tore pieces
of flesh out with their fingers and ate them raw.

After they had eaten all they wanted they threw the rest on the ground.

“Now I will catch you,” said Bolo.

“Come on then,” cried Fisher.

What a queer race it was! They did not run on the ground as boys do
now, but swung from limb to limb through the trees. Fisher was very
strong and quick, and he dodged and climbed so nimbly that Bolo was
soon left some distance behind.

At last they came to the edge of the woods. There were no more trees
very close, and Bolo thought Fisher would have to turn back.

“I will get you now,” shouted Bolo.

But Fisher slipped down to the end of a long, slender limb and hung
with his hands. He swung back and forth farther and farther at each
swing. Before Bolo could reach him he had flung himself far out toward
a tree that stood by itself several yards from the edge of the woods,
and with a daring leap, had landed among its branches.

Bolo laughed and started to slide down the limb too. He thought he
could leap as far as Fisher could. Then he glanced down to the ground
and began to climb back up the tree as fast as he could go.

“The cave bear! the cave bear!” he shouted.

Fisher glanced down, too, and his face had a look of great fear on it
as he realized the danger he had been in.

There on the ground below them was an immense black bear, growling and
reaching up the trunk of the tree as far as she could.

Bolo was badly frightened. He did not think any more about the race. He
clambered back among the trees as fast as he could.

But Fisher did not dare to leap back the way he had come. He thought he
would stay where he was. He knew if he should fall the bear would very
quickly tear him to pieces.

When Bolo had got quite a distance from the bear he stopped. He could
still hear her growling and tearing at the bark. He was glad he was
safe, but he was sorry Fisher could not get away, too. He thought that
if Fisher did not get away he would no longer have a playmate.

Then he thought of something else and ran on through the branches as
fast as he could go.




CHAPTER II How Bolo Learned a Lesson


It did not take Bolo long to get back to the Valley of Caves. The cave
where he lived was near the river, not far from the place where he and
Fisher had caught their dinner. When he came in sight of it he slid
down out of the trees and ran quickly across the open space.

“The bear! the bear!” he cried.

His mother, whose name was Stitcher, was making a wolf-skin coat for
One Eye, his father. She was sitting on the ground in front of the
cave. She was sewing with a long, slender bone needle, and the thread
she used was made of reindeer sinew.

When she heard Bolo shouting she jumped up quickly and ran to catch up
little Antelope, her baby, who was playing near by. Then she ran for
the cave.

“The bear! the bear!” screamed Bolo over and over. He was out of breath
from running, and that was all he could say.

Stitcher at once began to throw dry wood on the fire just inside the
cave. She knew that no bear would dare to enter as long as she kept the
fire blazing.

It was some time before the excited boy could make her understand where
the bear was. She thought it was coming to the cave. But when she found
out the danger Fisher was in she stood for a minute thinking.

“The men are all gone,” she said. “They have all the spears and
harpoons. Here is a strong bow, but there are only three arrows. You
can not kill a bear with arrows.”

“I will try,” said Bolo eagerly.

Not many men in the Clan could shoot with a bow. They had always used
spears and harpoons. They made the heads of them out of flintstones.
One Eye had been the first man in the Clan to make arrows. He had
learned how from a stranger who had once visited the Clan. One Eye
thought the arrows much better than the spears, but most of the men
liked their old weapons best.

Bolo had never shot an arrow himself, but he had seen his father do so
many times. When he thought of the savage bear growling at the foot of
the tree he was afraid. Then he thought how brave One Eye was, and of
the terrible battle with the auroch which had cost him one of his eyes
and had earned for him the name of being the boldest man in the Clan.
That had happened many years ago when One Eye was a boy like Bolo.

“I will shoot the bear,” he said again, and his voice was more eager
than before.

His mother gave him the stout bow and the three arrows. He ran back to
the trees as fast as he could go. When he got to the nearest one he
took the bow and arrows firmly between his knees and grasped the lowest
limb with both hands. In a minute he had drawn himself up and was
scurrying back through the branches to the place where poor Fisher was
waiting.

He found the boy just where he had left him. The big bear was growling
fiercely and walking around the tree. Often she would stop and reach up
as far as she could with her forepaws, tearing viciously at the bark
and snarling with rage.

When Fisher saw Bolo coming he shouted for joy. He did not think Bolo
would come back. Cave people did not often think of helping each other.
Each had to take care of himself.

“Now see me shoot the bear,” called Bolo proudly, fitting one of the
precious arrows to the bow.

“Twang!” went the bowstring.

But Bolo was so excited that the arrow flew wide of its mark. The bear
roared more angrily than ever.

Bolo sat down on a thick limb. He was not so sure of killing the bear
now. He fitted the next arrow very carefully and waited till the bear
had turned so as to face him. Then he drew the shaft back against the
taut string and took steady aim.

“Twang!” went the second arrow.

What a roar there was then! The arrow pierced the bear’s shaggy hide
just above her shoulder and she rolled over and over on the ground,
clawing at it and howling with pain and anger. But presently she was up
again, tearing madly at the tree where Bolo was sitting.

[Illustration: “There was only one arrow left”]

There was only one arrow left. Bolo’s face grew very sober as he fitted
it to the string. If he should not kill the bear this time poor Fisher
would have to stay where he was until some of the men came home. He
might grow so weary that he could not hold on any longer, and then the
bear would eat him.

But if he could kill the bear! Ah, then he would be a hero indeed--a
great hero like One Eye. And then, too, the cave men would all see what
a fine weapon the arrow was, and they would know that One Eye was wiser
than they were. But even One Eye had not thought a bear could be killed
with arrows.

Bolo waited until the bear was over her first rage and had grown quiet
again. By and by she paused a moment with her forepaws against the
tree, looking up into the branches. Bolo took careful aim right at her
small, wicked-looking eye.

The third time the arrow flew from the string. And this time it went
straight to its mark! The bear shrieked with agony and reared up on her
hind legs. Then she rolled over on her side in the grass. Bolo waited
to see if she would get up. Then he called to Fisher.

With a wild whoop, both boys slid down to the ground. At first they did
not dare to go very near the bear. Fisher picked up a stone and threw
it at her, but she did not move. Then how the boys danced and shouted!

But Bolo soon thought of something else.

“The wolves will come,” he said.

“We must hurry back to the caves,” said Fisher.

“Then we will not have any bear meat,” returned Bolo.

“We must save the meat if we can,” said Fisher. “But we are only two
boys, and the wolves are many and fierce.”

“Gather some dry wood quickly,” said Bolo. “I will run back and bring a
torch.”

It did not take long for the boys to make a circle of blazing sticks
around the carcass of the bear. But almost before it was done they
could hear the terrible howl of the hungry wolves, and they knew the
pack was closing in about them. Fisher was frightened and wished
they had left the meat for the wolves. But Bolo only laughed loudly,
and threw stones through the wall of fire at the wolves, and called
tauntingly to them. He knew they were safe so long as the fire burned.

Pretty soon it grew dark, and still the hungry wolves howled around the
wall of fire, pacing restlessly up and down and watching for a place
to break through it. The boys were getting tired. Besides, all the dry
wood they had been able to gather would soon be gone, and then what
would they do? They could save themselves by climbing into the trees,
but then they would have to give up their bear, and such a supply of
meat was a prize. It meant a feast of many days for the whole Clan.

“If I had more arrows I would shoot the wolves, too,” said Bolo; “then
we could go wherever we liked. When we get back to the cave I will ask
my father to teach me how to make them for myself.”

“I hear someone shouting,” said Fisher, just as the dawn was beginning
to show above the treetops.

Both boys called out as loudly as they could. In another minute they
were answered.

“We are coming,” shouted the men.

The men carried blazing branches in their hands. They came running
toward the snarling wolf pack, screaming and waving the firebrands
about their heads. The wolves quickly slunk away among the trees and
did not dare to come near again.

What a time there was when the men came back to the Valley of Caves
bringing the bear. Bolo and Fisher had to tell over and over how it had
all happened, and just how the arrow had killed the great beast. One
Eye was very proud, partly because the people knew now what good things
arrows were, and partly because Bolo had shown himself to be such a
hero.

“He has learned a great lesson,” said One Eye. “He has learned how to
take care of himself like a man.”

“You must teach me to make arrows,” said Bolo.

“Yes,” said One Eye, “that shall be your next lesson.”




CHAPTER III The Flood and the Fire


In a cave close to the river a very old woman lived by herself. She did
not do any work. The cave people brought her everything she needed to
eat, and when she wanted a new garment Stitcher made it for her. She
had something more important to do than to gather food or sew skins.
She had to take care of the Great Fire.

Sometimes the fire in the other caves went out. Then Flame, for that
was the old woman’s name, had to light a torch at the fire in her cave
and give it to the person who needed it. So of course the Great Fire
must never go out for if it did no one knew how to get any more.

No one knew where Flame got the fire in her cave. Her mother was Keeper
of the Great Fire for the Clan as far back as the oldest men could
remember. She taught Flame how to talk to the Fire-god and persuade him
to give her the fire, but Flame had never told anyone else. She liked
to be the fire-keeper herself.

Bolo and Fisher often went to Flame’s cave. They liked to watch the
great blaze always burning on the big flat rock just inside the
entrance to her cave. They brought her dry wood for it, and sometimes
she would let them roast nuts or broil slices of meat or fish over the
smaller fire where she cooked her own food. She would never allow them
to go very near the Great Fire on the big hearth, and she never used
that one to cook her food.

Bolo and Fisher often played in Flame’s cave. There was a small hole
away at the back of it where they could crawl out into the sunlight.
Flame did not like this hole. She was afraid some wild animal might
come through it. So she told the boys always to roll a great rock
against it when they were through playing. This was the first door any
of the Clan had ever had.

When it rained the cave people stayed at home. They were warm and dry
in the big caves. They always kept great piles of dry wood stored away
so that the fires rarely went out. The little children played about
in the firelight. The women, with Stitcher to teach them, pounded the
skins soft or sewed them into garments. The men busied themselves
making new points for their spears and harpoons. But One Eye always
made arrow heads instead, and since Bolo killed the cave bear many of
the men came to his cave to be taught how to make them, too. Many were
beginning to think arrows much better than their old weapons, but some
of the old men still declared they were of no use.

Once it began to rain, and for many days the clouds never broke and
rain fell constantly. The season was warm and the boys had a great deal
of fun running about in the wet. They always left their skin coats in
the caves when they did that, for if the skins got very wet it made
them stiff and hard.

At first this was sport, but as the days went on and the torrents still
poured down the cave people began to get uneasy. Their stock of wood
was running low, too, and the weather was turning colder.

“How high the river is running,” said Fisher one day. “And see how many
branches, and even great trees, are floating down on it.”

“It is almost up to the hole in the back of Flame’s cave,” said Bolo.

“We had better go and tell her,” said Fisher. So away they went to
Flame’s cave.

“The water never comes into my cave,” said Flame.

“But it is coming now,” cried Bolo in alarm. And sure enough, a little
trickle of muddy water was running across the floor.

Flame looked at the tiny stream anxiously.

“We must roll the great rock closer,” she said.

Bolo and Fisher ran to put the big rock in place. Then they tried to
daub mud about the edges to keep the water out. But it did no good. The
stream was constantly growing larger, and Flame grew frightened.

“The water will put out the Great Fire,” she said. “Ah, see! It is
coming in at the front of the cave, too.”

“It will drown us,” cried Fisher and Bolo in great fear. “Let us run
away from it.”

As they hastened out of the cave they saw people hurrying here and
there in great confusion. Bolo saw his mother with little Antelope on
her arm. She was running toward the trees. He saw One Eye, too, and
wondered what he had in the great skin bag he was carrying.

Everyone was screaming and calling, and everywhere he looked he saw
the muddy river. It had broken over its banks and was flooding all the
land. How fast it came!

Higher and higher it grew, with a great rush like the breaking of a
big wave on the ocean; and before Bolo and Fisher could get to the
trees it was nearly to their knees.

The boys never forgot that terrible time. For many long hours the
rain fell in gusty sheets, and below them, as they sat huddled close
together on a big limb, they could see nothing but brown, rushing
water. They called sometimes, and at first one or another of the cave
people would answer. Once Bolo heard his mother’s voice. But after a
while there were no more answers.

Then it began to grow very cold. The boys could not keep warm even
by sitting very close together. In the clouded light they could see
groups of cave people on the hills about the Valley. As they looked at
one group, to their horror, they saw a great pack of wolves fighting
through the water to reach the same high place. From another hilltop
they could hear the snarling of frightened and savage hyenas.

“It is better in the trees,” said Bolo.

“I wonder where Flame has gone,” said Fisher.

It seemed to Bolo as if they must die before the rain ceased and the
flood went down. Their hands grew so stiff that they could hardly hold
to the limbs. Dark came, and daylight, and dark again, they could not
tell how many times, and still the water raged below them. Once in the
night they felt something strike the tree, and in the morning the body
of a great wildcat hung limply across the end of the limb.

“I am glad he was dead before he found our tree,” said Bolo with a
shudder.

When the rain stopped at last and the water began to go down the boys
could hardly move. They tried to call, but their lips were stiff and
would not make much sound. Now and then, as the water whirled past, the
ghastly face of a drowned cave man would glimmer for a moment below
them, only to be swallowed up at once by the grim, brown water.

The water went down as fast as it had risen. As soon as it was safe the
boys slid stiffly to the ground and limped back to the caves. They were
hungry and cold and miserable, and they thought how good the fire would
feel. But though they searched long and carefully through the sodden
ashes they could not find so much as a single spark.

By and by more of the cave people began to come back home, one by one.
Frantically they searched through the desolate caves for a glimmer of
fire, but none could be found. They were in despair. How could they
live without fire? There would be no way to cook their food or to warm
themselves when it grew cold. And, worst of all, there would now be no
way to keep the wild beasts out of the caves, and all of the people
would have to go back to the trees to live, as did their fore-parents
so long, long ago. They were very wretched, and could do nothing but
huddle together in groups, trying to realize all that the loss of their
fires would mean to them.

But where was Flame? Perhaps if they could find her she could help
them. They thought she knew where the Fire-god lived and could get him
to send them fire.

“Let us see if we can find Flame,” said Bolo.

So he and Fisher started out to look for her.




CHAPTER IV The God Who Lived in the Sun


By this time the sun was shining brightly. The boys held out their
stiffened hands and thought how good and warm the sunshine felt.

“It is like the Great Fire,” said Fisher.

“Perhaps the Fire-god lives in the sun,” whispered Bolo, looking toward
it with an awed expression on his dark face.

As they came near Flame’s cave they saw that she was there, sure
enough. She was down on her knees in front of the entrance, making
strange motions with her hands. They thought she was looking for
something.

“Wait a minute.” Bolo caught Fisher by the arm and drew him back. “Let
us see what she is doing.”

Just then she slowly rose to her feet. She turned her face toward the
sun and stretched her lean arms up as far as she could. Her long gray
hair streamed out behind her and her eyes were very bright. She looked
as if she was seeing something a long way off. Her lips moved.

“She is talking to the sun,” said Fisher in a frightened whisper.
“Perhaps she is calling the Fire-god.”

The boys came cautiously nearer. They were not afraid of Flame, but
they were not sure what might happen next. And they were very curious
to hear what she was saying. By and by Flame turned and saw the boys.
She beckoned them to come nearer.

“The Water-god is great,” she said in a solemn voice, “but greater is
the Fire-god. He has spoken to me from his dwelling place, the sun. He
has promised that we shall have the Great Fire again. But,” she added
slowly, “I am old and my strength has grown small. I must have help.
You must help me.”

How proud the boys were! Gladly they ran at her bidding to bring the
driest sticks they could find. It was hard to discover many, for the
long rain had soaked everything through and through. But they climbed
into the trees and broke off dead limbs that had become partially dried
out again, and they broke open rotten logs to get the dry, crumbly wood
that lay at their hearts. It was not very long until they had brought
together a nice supply of dry sticks and light, tindery wood.

Flame was on her knees again when they came back, and now they could
see what she was doing. She had a long, pointed, hardwood stick in her
hands and was twirling it very fast in a little hollow in a flat block
of soft, dry wood. While she worked she mumbled to herself, now and
then looking up at the sun and speaking as if to the god that she said
lived in it. The boys stood very still and watched her.

Flame worked a long time. Then she threw down the pointed stick and
wrung her hands.

“I am too old,” she wailed. “No more are my hands strong to bring the
Fire-god to help my people. Oh, woe is me! woe is me!”

Bolo came up timidly and touched her shoulder. He held out both hands,
opening and shutting his wiry brown fingers.

“My hands are very strong,” he said. “Let them be as your hands and
twirl the stick while you speak to the Fire-god.”

Then Fisher spoke up eagerly. “Do you not remember the game we play
with the stick and the strap? Do you remember how very fast we can make
it go? Let us both twirl the stick with the strap while Flame speaks to
the Fire-god.”

So Fisher brought a flat, strong strap made of reindeer hide and
wrapped it around the stick. Then he and Bolo took hold of the ends and
drew them back and forth.

How fast the pointed stick did go! Flame showed them how to hold it in
the hollowed block, then she rose and once more faced the sun, her arms
held toward it and her lips mumbling a prayer to the Fire-god.

Faster and faster whirled the stick, and louder and louder prayed
Flame. Pretty soon she began stamping her feet and waving her hands.
She moved around the boys in a circle, her face always toward the sun.

For a long time nothing happened. Then at last Bolo saw a tiny thread
of smoke rising from the hollow.

“The fire is coming,” he shouted. “Pray! pray!”

In another moment a very, very small spark glowed through the smoke.
The eager boys sprinkled crumbs of dry tinder upon it and soon they had
a small blaze. A few dry sticks made it leap up brightly, and then how
Flame shouted and sang and flung her arms up toward the sun.

“I have heard the will of the Fire-god,” she said after a time. “I am
old, and he has taken this way to show me that I must teach someone
else to call him. I might have died in the water, and then who could
have helped the cave people? They must all have died, too. And it
is better that two should know than one, for then the secret of the
Great Fire will not be so easily lost. You are faithful; you will
be faithful. I will teach you. But first you must carry fire to the
people.”

Bolo and Fisher each took a lighted torch and started back to where the
discouraged cave people were huddled together. How everyone shouted for
joy when they saw the fire coming. They knew that again they were safe
in their homes in the Valley of Caves.

It was not many days until most of the people who were left were back
at home again. Some had been swept away by the water, some had wandered
away when they found there was no fire, and some had died from cold and
hunger. All felt very sad when they saw how the water had laid waste
their pretty valley.

They had lost all their weapons, too, and old Quickfinger, who had made
most of the spears and harpoons for the Clan, was nowhere to be found.
They thought he must have died, for they knew he would never have left
them.

Then One Eye showed them what he had carried away in the great skin
bag. He had gathered up all the arrows he could find, many spear and
harpoon heads, and the flint flakers that Quickfinger and himself had
used in making them.

“I can make better arrows than Quickfinger,” he said. “Arrows are
better than spears or harpoons. I have taught Bolo, and he will help me
make them. I will teach you, too. The women must make the bowstrings.
Soon we will have plenty of weapons.”

“One Eye is wise and prudent,” cried the cave men joyfully. “We will do
whatever he says. He will take care of us.”

But they did not know that Flame had taught Bolo and Fisher a greater
lesson than how to make arrows. She made the boys promise to keep
secret what she taught them. She did not believe it was right for all
the Clan to know how to make fire. She thought the Fire-god would be
angry if she told them.

Years after, when Flame was dead, Bolo and Fisher thought the rest of
the people ought to know, too. They did not believe the Fire-god would
be angry if they taught them all. So one day, when they were both old
men, they gathered the Clan together--but that is another story.




CHAPTER V A Long Search and What Came of It


Many days went by and still Stitcher did not come back to the Valley of
Caves. One Eye took his bow and arrows and went here and there among
the hills, but nothing could he find of either Stitcher or little
Antelope. He was very sad, for he remembered how pretty little Antelope
used to run out to meet him when he came home after a hunt, and what
fine shirts of reindeer and wolf-skins Stitcher made for him. One
day he came back to the caves after being gone a long time. He threw
himself wearily down and said very sadly:

“They are dead. I will search no more.”

But Bolo did not believe his mother was dead.

“I am going to try to find them,” he said. “Make me a strong bow and a
quiver full of fine arrows, for I may be gone a long time.”

One Eye shook his head mournfully.

“You will only die, too,” he said.

But Bolo brought some flint stones and set to making his arrows. Then
One Eye sat down to show him how to make them more keen and beautiful
than any he had ever made. He took a curved piece of bone and chipped
off the large flakes. Then he pressed off smaller flakes one by one,
working very carefully, until he had made a fine, keen point. Bolo
watched his father and worked in the same way, and soon they had a
nice lot of arrows. Bolo made a new head for his spear, too, and bound
it on with a fresh cord of reindeer sinew.

At last all was ready. One Eye brought a great, hollow bone that he had
taken from the leg of a mammoth years before and fastened a wooden base
to it. He drilled holes in the upper edge and strung thongs through
them so that Bolo could carry it over his shoulder. Then he put the
arrows into the hollow of the bone. It made a good quiver.

Bolo carried his bow over one shoulder and his quiver full of arrows
over the other. He carried his spear in his hand, and at his side he
hung a heavy hammer made of stone. One Eye wanted him to leave the
hammer and take a great club that he had made from the jawbone of a
cave bear, to which one long, sharp tooth was still attached. But Bolo
was afraid of this club. He was afraid it would make the cave bears
angry with him. So he did not take it. Fisher wanted to go with Bolo,
but Flame said “No.” She had grown very feeble and she was afraid she
might die. If both boys went away and never came back there would be no
one to talk to the Fire-god. So Fisher stayed to help Flame tend the
Great Fire.

For three days Bolo wandered about over the hills. At night he tied
himself to the branch of a tree, safely out of the reach of harm, and
slept soundly. He shot a rabbit now and then for food, and sometimes
caught a fish. One day he found himself suddenly surrounded by a pack
of snarling, hungry hyenas, but a few well-aimed arrows sent them
scurrying off into the hills. How glad Bolo was that they were not
wolves!

One day Bolo climbed a tall tree that stood alone on a hill. He hoped
he might be able to find some trace of those he sought. He looked
slowly about in every direction. On one side the hills lay like great,
rounded billows, many of them covered with trees. On the other side
wound the river, in some places between sloping shores, in others
between steep banks. Off toward the north it disappeared behind a
jutting cliff. It was a long way from Bolo’s tree, but he thought
he could see something moving along the river bank. He looked again
eagerly. Perhaps that might be his mother and little Antelope.

He climbed down the tree and ran across to another hilltop closer to
the river. Here he climbed another tree, and from that he saw something
so strange that he held his breath in terrified surprise.

[Illustration: “Bolo had never seen any animals like this before”]

Great, lumbering creatures were moving about along the edge of the
river. They had heavy, swinging snouts, and from their enormous heads
rose in great curves immense, yellowish things that looked like queer
horns. Bolo had never seen any animals like these before. He watched
them with fascinated eyes, wondering what they could be. Sometimes one
of them would reach up into a tree with its great snout and pull a
branch down. Two of them appeared to be quarreling, and one thrust its
shaggy head and wicked looking tusks against the side of the other and
made him stagger. Another waded out into the river and appeared to be
drinking. In a minute he threw his trunk over his back and out spouted
a stream of muddy water. There were fully twice as many of these
animals as there were fingers on both of his hands.

At last Bolo thought again of his mother and little Antelope. How he
hoped they had not been trampled to death by these dreadful beasts. He
had almost given up finding them now, for he was sure that even if they
had not been drowned or killed by wild beasts they must have starved.
So, sad at heart, he started on the long journey back to the Valley of
Caves.

Weary and heartsick, he came in sight of the caves. But who was that
running up the slope to meet him? Surely it could not be--yes, it was!
It was dear little Antelope, holding up her baby hands and shouting
his name. Down the hill he ran, forgetting his aching limbs and heavy
heart, and how both laughed and shouted for joy as he caught his lost
sister up and put her on his shoulder. Together thus, they came to the
cave where Stitcher sat, her brown hands for once idle as she leaned
wearily against the side of a great rock. She looked very worn and
thin, but smiled gladly when Bolo came up and put his arm about her
shoulders.

“We looked everywhere,” he said. “Where have you been all this time?
And how did you live?”

“I will tell you another time,” said Stitcher. “I do not like to talk
about it now.”

How excited Bolo was as he told One Eye and the other cave men about
the strange herd he had seen in the distant valley. The whole Clan was
at once in a turmoil. One Eye gave it as his opinion that the great
animals were mammoths, which rarely came into that region, and were
very valuable for their meat, their skins, and the ivory in the long
tusks. One mammoth would make meat for all the Clan for many days, and
they were all eager to start at once on a great hunt for them.

“We must take spears and harpoons,” said one.

“No, we must take bows and arrows,” said another.

“We will go up the river and attack them from the water,” said a third.

“No,” objected a fourth, “that would frighten them back into the hills
and we could not get them.”

In short, each man in the Clan seemed to think he knew just what to do,
and would not listen to anyone else. For a while it looked as if the
great hunt would have to be given up.

“Why not choose someone who is brave and wise to lead you, and then all
do as he tells you to?” suggested Bek, the oldest man in the Clan.

No one had thought of that.

“That is right,” said Flame, who had come up to listen.

“But how shall we know who is the wisest?” called several voices at
once.

“Who has done the most for the Clan?” asked old Bek.

“One Eye saved our weapons when the flood came.”

“He taught us to make arrows.”

“He is not afraid.”

“Then let One Eye be the leader,” cried Flame, and to this they all
agreed.

Such a time as there was then! The cave men ran here and there
gathering up spears and arrows and clubs and making themselves ready.
The women bound new points on the spears with heavy sinews, and Bolo
helped his father prepare a number of torches from wood soaked in fat.
Flame brought some other torches made from knotty pine limbs. They all
knew they would need fire with which to fight the mammoths.




CHAPTER VI The Hunt for the Mammoths


It was a long way to where Bolo had seen the herd, and they were all
afraid the animals might have wandered away. Bolo and Fisher ran
eagerly ahead, and Bolo pointed out to Fisher the things he had noticed
while searching for his mother. One Eye said very little, but he sent
men up into every tall tree they passed to see if they could discover
the herd. They traveled all day, and when night came they built a great
circle of fire and lay down to rest. One Eye chose four men to carry
torches, and it was their duty to see that the fires did not go out.

When they came to the valley where Bolo had seen the mammoths they
found nothing but trampled grass and the broken limbs of trees. They
went very slowly and carefully after that. It was not long till a
man, who had climbed into a very tall tree on a hilltop, called out
excitedly that he could see something moving at the base of a cliff
that hung high and steep above the river. One Eye climbed the tree
himself, and looked long and closely where the man pointed.

“It is the herd,” he said. “Now let every man do just as I say.”

He divided the cave men into two parties. One was to move up very
slowly from the side where they were, the other was to travel rapidly
around through a valley behind some hills and come upon the herd
from the other side. Bolo, young as he was, was appointed to lead the
first party, while One Eye himself led the second division through the
valley. The men seemed pleased at this for they thought Bolo deserved
some honor.

When the cave men had surrounded the herd in this fashion they were
to close in upon them, each man carrying a blazing torch, and try to
drive the animals up the landward slope of the cliff, and over it into
the river. They knew they could never kill one of these huge beasts
with any weapons they had. So they thought to kill them by driving them
over the cliff and making them fall upon the rocks below. Some of the
cave men who had never seen a mammoth were very much frightened at the
terrible beasts. They said they were going back to the caves. But the
others taunted them and called them women, until they grew ashamed and
went on with the rest.

Very stealthily and carefully the two bodies of cave men drew toward
the great herd of grazing animals. One of the older men told in
whispers of another such hunt he had taken part in when a young man. He
said he had never tasted any meat so good as that of the mammoth.

Bolo watched carefully for his father’s signal. At last it came, and
when he saw the tossing torch he motioned his men to light their
torches and go on quickly.

In a very few minutes the surprised mammoths found themselves attacked
from three sides by a screaming, leaping line of cave men, each
swinging a fiery torch above his head. At first the huge beasts stood
still. Then they turned and went awkwardly up the long slope on the
landward side of the bluff. The men followed as closely as they dared,
for they feared that when the animals came to the edge of the bluff
they would swing around and rush through the line of their attackers,
trampling them under their great feet.

One Eye was again leading the entire band. Always he was at the very
front, shouting and waving his torch. One man, more daring than the
rest, ran up and thrust his burning firebrand right against the shaggy
side of the nearest mammoth. The frenzied beast, with a bellow of rage,
turned and tore back through the yelling mass of hunters. In spite
of all their efforts to escape, two men were killed and three more
badly hurt. The rest of the herd, terrified by the confusion, huddled
together on the edge of the bluff.

“Close in! close in!” shouted One Eye, brandishing his torch in a fury
of excitement. But the cave men were too much frightened to obey. They
were scattered by the stampeding mammoth, and were too scared and
confused to obey their leader. What made things worse was that they had
never been used to obeying the orders of anyone.

But Bolo and Fisher obeyed. Bolo had drawn a little away from the rest
of the hunters. He had swung his stout bow down from his shoulder and
carefully fitted an arrow to the taut string. No one noticed the sharp
twang as the arrow left the bowstring, but all saw one of the mammoths
rear suddenly with pain and plunge into the midst of the herd.
Startled at this sudden onslaught, the herd pressed a little closer to
the edge of the cliff, and then--

Never in all his life did Bolo hear again such a terrific shriek as
the falling mammoth gave. For many nights after that he covered his
ears as he lay down to sleep so that he might not hear it again in his
dreams. Then came the sickening crash as the gigantic body struck the
rocks below. The men turned and fled, and the remaining mammoths, in a
frenzy of fear, tore back down the landward side of the cliffs into the
valley. For some moments the hunters, wide-eyed and breathless, watched
the herd as it lumbered down the valley, until at last it passed behind
the hills and was gone.

When the cave men hurried down to the river’s edge they found the
immense, shaggy carcass of the dead mammoth lying in the shallow water
at the base of the cliff. They could not move it to dry land, so they
waded out to it and went to work to cut it up with their long flint
knives right where it was.

But first they sent four of the swiftest runners back to the Valley of
Caves, and to another Clan who lived far up the river, to tell them all
to come and partake of the feast. From every direction they came, men,
women and children, and by the time the hunters had the great carcass
cut up and carried to the shore there was a great gathering of hungry
cave people who all rejoiced at the prospect of so delicious a feast.

They stayed here several days, feasting and resting. Then, every woman,
loaded with meat, and every man, carrying a heavy club to protect the
party from attacks of wild beasts, they took their way back to the
Valley of Caves. They all knew that if the men should carry the meat
themselves they might all be killed by wolves or other savage beasts.
So the men kept themselves ready to fight while the women bore the
burdens.

There was great rejoicing when they reached home again. Every one
praised One Eye for his wisdom and courage, and they all agreed that he
should be their leader as long as he lived.

“Bolo will be as wise as his father,” said Flame. “Wiser, too,
perhaps,” she added, nodding her head sagely, for she thought of the
important secret that no one in the Clan knew except herself and the
two boys.

“Then Bolo shall be our leader after his father is dead,” said old Bek.
But he suspected what Flame meant.




CHAPTER VII How Stitcher Saved the Clan from Hunger


Many months passed by and in the Valley of Caves all was going well
again. The flood was almost forgotten. Nuts and berries were plenty in
the woods and the hunters always came home laden. No one thought very
much about the time when they had been so hungry and cold and wretched.
That is, not many people did. But Stitcher could never forget the days
after the great flood when she had wandered about in the hills with
little Antelope in her arms, not knowing which way to go, hungry and
weary and in danger. She always shuddered when she thought of it, and
called her little girl up close to her.

She remembered other times, too, when nuts and berries were few and
game was scarce. She thought there ought to be some way to get ready
for such times so the cave people would not need to suffer so much. So
one day when the men brought in great quantities of meat she cut some
in strips and hid it in the top of the cave.

“I will keep this till the rest of the meat is gone,” said Stitcher.
But she told no one what she had done.

It was a long time before Stitcher thought of the meat again. Then she
only remembered it because she happened to think of that terrible time
when she had been so hungry. She reached up in the top of the cave and
brought down the strips, and behold! the meat was deliciously smoked
and dried by the heat of the fire.

“It is good,” she said, and gave some to One Eye to taste.

“Yes, it is good,” he said, reaching for more.

“After this we will not need to go hungry any more,” said Stitcher,
“for when the hunting is good we will save meat.”

“How wise and thoughtful you are,” said One Eye.

There was something else that Stitcher did not think of for a long
time. When she was so far from home, and little Antelope was crying for
food, she had found some strange stalks that had grains like tiny brown
berries in a sort of husk at their tip. She shook some of these berries
out and gave them to Antelope, and ate some herself. They tasted a
little like nut meats but were even better.

Stitcher had brought some of these grains home in her doe-skin pouch.
She carried them to eat on the way, but she did not eat them all up.
When she got back to the caves she threw the rest of the berries out on
the ground. A few days after that she noticed some particularly bright
grass growing where she had thrown the grains. But she did not think
that it might have grown from them.

The grains had fallen in a sheltered place where the new green blades
were not trampled down. In time the stalks became yellow and dry, and
at their tips were more husks filled with smooth brown grains. When
Stitcher saw them she cried out in delight.

“They are like the berries I scattered on the ground,” she exclaimed.
“I will scatter these again. I like to see them grow.”

So, instead of eating the brown kernels, Stitcher shook them all out of
the husks on the ground. This time she watched them, and was careful
to see that no one walked upon them. After a long time there were more
yellow stalks and more sweet, nutty grains.

“Here are a great many berries,” said Stitcher, as she shook them out
into a big wooden bowl. “We will eat some of them. But most of them I
will scatter again. By and by there will be enough so we can all have
some of them to eat.”

After that Stitcher had some grain growing near her cave all the time.
Many heard of this wonderful new food and came long distances to get
some of the kernels. And soon most of the cave people were raising
little patches of wheat in the open spaces about their caves.

“We will never be hungry again,” said Stitcher.

Years after that Stitcher lost all her teeth and could not eat the hard
grains. So she put some of them into a hollowed stone and pounded them
with another stone till they were soft. In this way the cave people
came at last to grind grain for bread. But it was many, many years
before they learned how to do that. For a long time they ate it just as
it came from the husk.




CHAPTER VIII The Pictures on the Wall


Bek, the oldest man in the Clan, lived in a cave not very far from the
one where Flame kept the Great Fire.

It was a wonderful cave, more wonderful even, the boys thought, than
Flame’s. They were almost afraid to go into it, however, for the cave
people thought old Bek had the power of making charms.

One day as Bolo peeped into Bek’s cave the old man was drawing a
picture on a smooth place on the rock wall. He had a queer little lamp
made of hollowed chalk-stone. This was filled with fat. Into the fat
Bek had stuck a bit of the pith of a water-rush. He could light this
little chalk-cup lamp and go on with his pictures when he had no need
for fire.

[Illustration: Picture of a Mammoth Cut in Ivory by a Cave Man and
Found in one of the Caves of France.]

“What are you doing?” asked Bolo.

“Come and see,” said Bek.

When Bolo went closer he saw that it was a drawing of a reindeer. He
watched as Bek added line after line, bringing out the graceful curve
of the neck, the turn of the long, branching horns, and the dainty,
slender legs.

“I should like to make a picture, too,” said Bolo eagerly.

“You may try,” said Bek, handing him the bit of brown soft stone he had
been using.

So Bolo tried and tried, but when he was done no one could have told
what it was he had been trying to draw.

“I will make pictures yet some day,” cried Bolo, throwing down the
stone. “I will make the cave bear I killed, and the mammoths.”

“See here, now,” said Bek.

He took a large, smooth piece of the tusk of the mammoth the cave men
had killed. One Eye had given him one of the ivory tusks because he
knew the old man loved beautiful things, and the ivory was very smooth
and beautiful. Then he took a sharp flint awl and began to make deep,
careful marks in the ivory. Bolo watched him with great interest.

“Why, it is the mammoth itself,” he cried at last. “Only wait, Bek; the
great tusk did not curve up quite like that. It was more like this.”

Bolo took the awl and made a mark that he thought showed more nearly
how the tusk looked. Yet he was not quite satisfied and tried again,
and the next time both he and Bek declared that the curve was right.

“Now we must put in the long hair,” said Bek, drawing short, straight
lines down over the animal’s head and shoulders. “There, now! here is
the eye, too, and the big, flapping ears. Ah, ha, my Bolo, we must show
this to One Eye and see what he says.”

When One Eye saw the drawing he became very grave.

“It is a charm,” he said. “Whoever carries that can never be harmed by
a mammoth.”

So he bored a hole through one end of the ivory and ran a thong through
it. Then he hung it about Bolo’s neck. The lad was very proud of his
new ornament and showed everybody the wonderful picture Bek had made.

Day after day Bolo worked with Bek in his cave. Many were the drawings
he made, or tried to make, and at last old Bek began to say he was
doing very well.

“The animals like to have us make their pictures,” said Bek. “They
think we want to be friends with them when we do that.”

“I will make them look more like animals,” said Bolo. “I will cut them
out with my flint knife.” So after he had drawn a picture of a reindeer
he cut it out very carefully.

Now it was Bek’s turn to be surprised.

“I had never thought of doing that,” he said. So he, too, tried to
carve pictures of animals he had drawn.

By and by other cave men began to be interested in the pictures that
Bek and Bolo made, and soon many of the men were trying their skill.
The women brought a sort of red and brown clay, and painted the animals
after the men had drawn them on the cave walls.

And although all this was thousands and thousands of years ago, the
drawings and paintings are still to be seen. They tell us many things
more than have been related here about the cave men of Bolo’s time.
They tell us of another animal, more terrible than the cave bear or the
mammoth, the dreaded Sabre-Tooth, striped with rich, velvety brown like
a tiger, and strong and bloodthirsty as a lion. They tell us of the
ways in which the cave men fought and lived and learned, and so came to
know many things that were never dreamed of in the days of Bolo. But
all that is another story.

What is of more interest to us just now is to know that when Flame
died, many years after the great hunt, Fisher was made Keeper of the
Great Fire in her stead. This was the highest honor the Clan could
show, excepting only the honor they had shown to One Eye when they made
him their leader.

“Bolo must learn many things,” said One Eye. “I am growing old and the
Clan must never again be without a lawmaker. And the man who is to make
the laws must be fearless and wise and good.”

It was long after that, however, before Bolo took his place at the head
of the Clan. For One Eye lived to an old age, and became wiser and more
just with every year.

Little Antelope grew up as pretty and graceful as the beautiful animal
whose name she bore. When the young Chief of another Clan, living in a
valley far across the hills, saw her as she sat sewing skins beside her
mother, and called to her to follow him, she did so gladly, for he was
tall and brave and handsome.

There was another pretty maiden, too, whom Bolo thought the loveliest
he had ever seen. So, one day he found a new cave, where no one had
ever lived, and made it ready for his own home.

But how he won the maiden, and what brave deeds he did in his long
after years cannot be told here. That, too, is another story.

       *       *       *       *       *

INSTRUCTOR LITERATURE SERIES

7c--Supplementary Readers and Classics for all Grades--7c

☞ _This list is constantly being added to. Send for latest list._

FIRST GRADE

Fables and Myths

    *6 Fairy Stories of the Moon--_Maguire_
   *27 Eleven Fables from Æsop--_Reiter_
   *28 More Fables from Æsop--_Reiter_
   *29 Indian Myths--_Bush_
  *140 Nursery Tales--_Taylor_
  *288 Primer from Fableland--_Maguire_
  *320 Fables and Tales from Africa--_Stone_

Nature

   *1 Little Plant People--Part I--_Chase_
   *2 Little Plant People--Part II--_Chase_
  *30 Story of a Sunbeam--_Miller_
  *31 Kitty Mittens and Her Friends--_Chase_

History

  *32 Patriotic Stories--_Reiter_

Literature

  *104 Mother Goose Reader--_Faxon_
  *228 First Term Primer--_Maguire_
  *230 Rhyme and Jingle Reader for Beginners
  *245 Three Billy Goats Gruff and Other Stories

SECOND GRADE

Fables and Myths

  *33 Stories from Andersen--_Taylor_
  *34 Stories from Grimm--_Taylor_
  *36 Little Red Riding Hood--_Reiter_
  *37 Jack and the Beanstalk--_Reiter_
  *38 Adventures of a Brownie--_Reiter_

Nature and Industry

   *3 Little Workers (Animal Stories)--_Chase_
  *39 Little Wood Friends--_Mayne_
  *40 Wings and Stings--_Halifax_
  *41 Story of Wool--_Mayne_
  *42 Bird Stories from the Poets--_Jollie_

History and Biography

   *43 Story of the Mayflower--_McCabe_
   *45 Boyhood of Washington--_Reiter_
  *204 Boyhood of Lincoln--_Reiter_

Literature

   *72 Bow-Wow and Mew-Mew--_Craik_
  *152 Child’s Garden of Verses--_Stevenson_
  *206 Picture Study Stories for Little Children
  *220 Story of the Christ Child--_Hushower_
  *262 Four Little Cotton Tails--_Smith_
  *268 Four Little Cotton Tails in Winter--_Smith_
  *269 Four Little Cotton Tails at Play--_Smith_
  *270 Four Little Cotton Tails in Vacation--_Smith_
  *290 Fuzz in Japan--A Child Life Reader
  *300 Four Little Bushy Tails--_Smith_
  *301 Patriotic Bushy Tails--_Smith_
  *302 Tinkle Bell and Other Stories--_Smith_
  *303 The Rainbow Fairy--_Smith_
  *308 Story of Peter Rabbit--_Potter_
  *317 More Stories of The Three Bears--_Clark_
  *318 More Stories of The Three Pigs--_Clark_

THIRD GRADE

Fables and Myths

   *46 Puss in Boots and Cinderella--_Reiter_
   *47 Greek Myths--_Klingensmith_
   *48 Nature Myths--_Metcalfe_
   *50 Reynard the Fox--_Best_
  *102 Thumbelina and Dream Stories--_Reiter_
  *146 Sleeping Beauty and Other Stories
   174 Sun Myths--_Reiter_
   175 Norse Legends, I--_Reiter_
   176 Norse Legends, II--_Reiter_
  *177 Legends of the Rhineland--_McCabe_
  *282 Siegfried and Other Rhine Legends
  *289 The Snow Man and Other Stories
  *292 East of the Sun and West of the Moon

Nature and Industry

   *49 Buds, Stems and Fruits--_Mayne_
   *51 Story of Flax--_Mayne_
   *52 Story of Glass--_Hanson_
   *53 Story of a Little Water Drop--_Mayne_
  *133 Aunt Martha’s Corner Cupboard--Part I.

Story of Tea and the Teacup

  *135 Little People of the Hills--_Chase_
  *137 Aunt Martha’s Corner Cupboard--Part II. Story of Sugar, Coffee
       and Salt
  *138 Aunt Martha’s Corner Cupboard--Part III. Story of Rice, Currants
       and Honey
  *203 Little Plant People of the Waterways--_Chase_

History and Biography

    *4 Story of Washington--_Reiter_
    *7 Story of Longfellow--_McCabe_
   *21 Story of the Pilgrims--_Powers_
   *44 Famous Early Americans (Smith, Standish, Penn)--_Bush_
   *54 Story of Columbus--_McCabe_
    55 Story of Whittier--_McCabe_
    57 Story of Louisa M. Alcott--_Bush_
   *59 Story of the Boston Tea Party--_McCabe_
   *60 Children of the Northland--_Bush_
   *64 Child Life in the Colonies--I (New Amsterdam)--_Baker_
   *65 Child Life in the Colonies--II (Pennsylvania)--_Baker_
   *66 Child Life in the Colonies--III (Virginia)
   *68 Stories of the Revolution--I (Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain
       Boys)--_McCabe_
   *69 Stories of the Revolution--II (Around Philadelphia)--_McCabe_
   *70 Stories of the Revolution--III (Marion, the Swamp Fox)--_McCabe_
  *132 Story of Franklin--_Faris_
  *164 The Little Brown Baby and Other Babies
  *165 Gemila, the Child of the Desert
  *166 Louise on the Rhine and in Her New Home
      (_Nos. 164, 165, 166 are the stories from “Seven
      Little Sisters” by Jane Andrews_)
  *167 Famous Artists--I--Landseer and Bonheur

Literature

   *35 Little Goody Two Shoes
    58 Selections from Alice and Phoebe Cary
   *67 The Story of Robinson Crusoe--_Bush_
   *71 Selections from Hiawatha (Five Grades)
  *227 Our Animal Friends: How to Treat Them
  *233 Poems Worth Knowing--Book I--Primary
  *321 The Adventures of the Rabbity Buns
  *322 The Wise Frog and Other Stories--_Knapp_
  *323 Health Stories and Rhymes

FOURTH GRADE

Nature and Industry

   *75 Story of Coal--_McKane_
   *76 Story of Wheat--_Halifax_
   *77 Story of Cotton--_Brown_
  *134 Conquests of Little Plant People--_Chase_
  *136 Peeps into Bird Nooks--I--_McFee_
  *181 Stories of the Stars--_McFee_
  *205 Eyes and No Eyes and The Three Giants

History and Biography

    *5 Story of Lincoln--_Reiter_
   *56 Indian Children Tales--_Bush_
   *78 Stories of the Backwoods--_Reiter_
   *79 A Little New England Viking--_Baker_
   *81 Story of De Soto--_Hatfield_
   *82 Story of Daniel Boone--_Reiter_
   *83 Story of Printing--_McCabe_
   *84 Story of David Crockett--_Reiter_
   *85 Story of Patrick Henry--_Littlefield_
   *86 American Inventors--I (Whitney, Fulton)
   *87 American Inventors--II (Morse, Edison)
   *88 American Naval Heroes (Jones, Perry, Farragut)--_Bush_
   *89 Fremont and Kit Carson--_Judd_
   *91 Story of Eugene Field--_McCabe_
  *178 Story of Lexington and Bunker Hill--_Baker_
  *182 Story of Joan of Arc--_McFee_
  *207 Famous Artists--II--Reynolds and Murillo
  *243 Famous Artists--III--Millet
  *248 Makers of European History--_White_

Literature

   *90 Fifteen Selections from Longfellow--(Village Blacksmith,
       Children’s Hour, etc.)
   *95 Japanese Myths and Legends--_McFee_
  *103 Stories from the Old Testament--_McFee_
  *111 Water Babies (Abridged)--_Kingsley_
  *159 Little Lame Prince (Cond.)--_Mulock_
  *171 Tolmi of the Tree-Tops--_Grimes_
  *172 Labu the Little Lake Dweller--_Grimes_
  *173 Tara of the Tents--_Grimes_
  *195 Night before Christmas and Other Christmas Poems and Stories
       (Any Grade)
  *201 Alice’s First Adventures in Wonderland
  *202 Alice’s Further Adventures in Wonderland
  *256 Bolo the Cave Boy--_Grimes_
  *257 Kwasa the Cliff Dweller--_Grimes_
  *291 Voyage to Lilliput (Abridged)--_Swift_
  *293 Hansel and Grettel, and Pretty Goldilocks
  *304 Story Lessons in Everyday Manners--_Bailey_
  *312 Legends from Many Lands--_Bailey_
  *314 The Enchanted Bugle and Other Stories
  *401 Adventures of Pinocchio--_Collodi_ (Double Number--12c paper,
       18c limp cloth)

FIFTH GRADE

Nature and Industry

   *92 Animal Life in the Sea--_Reiter_
   *93 Story of Silk--_Brown_
   *94 Story of Sugar--_Reiter_
   *96 What We Drink (Tea, Coffee and Cocoa)
  *139 Peeps into Bird Nooks--II
   210 Snowdrops and Crocuses
  *210 Story of King Corn--_Cooley_
   253 The Sky Family--_Denton_
  *280 Making of the World--_Herndon_
  *281 Builders of the World--_Herndon_
  *283 Stories of Time--_Bush_

History and Biography

   *16 Explorations of the Northwest
   *80 Story of the Cabots--_McBride_
   *97 Stories of the Norsemen--_Hanson_
   *98 Story of Nathan Hale--_McCabe_
   *99 Story of Jefferson--_McCabe_
   100 Story of Bryant--_McFee_
  *101 Story of Robert E. Lee--_McKane_
  *105 Story of Canada--_McCabe_
  *106 Story of Mexico--_McCabe_
  *107 Story of Robert Louis Stevenson--_Bush_
   110 Story of Hawthorne--_McFee_
   112 Biographical Stories--_Hawthorne_
  *141 Story of Grant--_McKane_
  *144 Story of Steam--_McCabe_
  *145 Story of McKinley--_McBride_
   157 Story of Dickens--_Smith_
  *179 Story of the Flag--_Baker_
  *185 Story of the First Crusade--_Mead_
   190 Story of Father Hennepin--_McBride_
   191 Story of La Salle--_McBride_
  *217 Story of Florence Nightingale--_McFee_
  *218 Story of Peter Cooper--_McFee_
  *219 Little Stories of Discovery--_Halsey_
   232 Story of Shakespeare--_Grames_
  *265 Four Little Discoverers in Panama--_Bush_
   274 Stories from Grandfather’s Chair--_Hawthorne_
  *275 When Plymouth Colony Was Young
  *287 Life in Colonial Days--_Tillinghast_

Literature

    *8 King of the Golden River--_Ruskin_
    *9 The Golden Touch--_Hawthorne_
   *61 Story of Sindbad the Sailor
  *108 History in Verse
  *113 Little Daffydowndilly and Other Stories
  *180 Story of Aladdin and of Ali Baba--_Lewis_
  *183 A Dog of Flanders--_De La Ramee_
  *186 Heroes from King Arthur--_Grames_
   194 Whittier’s Poems--Selected
  *199 Jackanapes--_Ewing_
  *200 The Child of Urbino--_De La Ramee_
   208 Heroes of Asgard--Selections--_Keary_
  *212 Stories of Robin Hood--_Bush_
  *234 Poems Worth Knowing--Book II--Inter.
  *244 What Happened at the Zoo--_Bailey_
  *250 At the Back of the North Wind, Selection from--_Macdonald_
  255 Chinese Fables and Stories--_Feltges_
  *309 Moni the Goat Boy--_Spyri_
  *313 In Nature’s Fairyland--_Bailey_

SIXTH GRADE

Nature and Industry

  *109 Gifts of the Forests (Rubber, Cinchona, Resins, etc.)--_McFee_
   249 Flowers and Birds of Illinois--_Patterson_
  *298 Story of Leather--_Peirce_
  *299 Story of Iron--_Ogden_

Geography

  *114 Great European Cities--I (London-Paris)
  *115 Great European Cities--II (Rome-Berlin)
  *168 Great European Cities--III
       (St. Petersburg-Constantinople)--_Bush_
  *246 What I Saw in Japan--_Griffis_
  *247 The Chinese and Their Country--_Paulson_
  *285 Story of Panama and the Canal--_Nida_
  *324 A Visit to Brazil--_Haynes_
  *325 A Visit to Hawaii--_Mesick_

Agricultural

  *271 Animal Husbandry, I--Horses and Cattle
  *272 Animal Husbandry, II--Sheep and Swine

History and Biography

   *73 Four Great Musicians--_Bush_
   *74 Four More Great Musicians--_Bush_
  *116 Old English Heroes (Alfred, Richard the Lion-Hearted, The Black
       Prince)--_Bush_
  *117 Later English Heroes (Cromwell, Wellington, Gladstone)--_Bush_
  *160 Heroes of the Revolution--_Tristram_
  *163 Stories of Courage--_Bush_
   187 Lives of Webster and Clay--_Tristram_
  *188 Story of Napoleon--_Bush_
  *189 Stories of Heroism--_Bush_
  *197 Story of Lafayette--_Bush_
  *198 Story of Roger Williams--_Leighton_
  *209 Lewis and Clark Expedition--_Herndon_
  *224 Story of William Tell--_Hallock_
  *253 Story of the Aeroplane--_Galbreath_
  *266 Story of Belgium--_Griffis_
  *267 Story of Wheels--_Bush_
  *286 Story of Slavery--_Booker T. Washington_
  *310 Story of Frances E. Willard--_Babcock_
  *326 Story of Harding--_Galbreath_

Stories of the States

   508 Story of Florida--_Bauskett_
   509 Story of Georgia--_Derry_
   511 Story of Illinois--_Smith_
   512 Story of Indiana--_Clem_
   513 Story of Iowa--_McFee_
   515 Story of Kentucky--_Eubank_
   520 Story of Michigan--_Skinner_
   521 Story of Minnesota--_Skinner_
   523 Story of Missouri--_Pierce_
  *525 Story of Nebraska--_Mears_
  *528 Story of New Jersey--_Hutchinson_
  *533 Story of Ohio--_Galbreath_
  *536 Story of Pennsylvania--_March_
  *540 Story of Tennessee--_Overall_
   542 Story of Utah--_Young_
  *546 Story of West Virginia--_Shawkey_
   547 Story of Wisconsin--_Skinner_

Literature

   *10 The Snow Image--_Hawthorne_
   *11 Rip Van Winkle--_Irving_
   *12 Legend of Sleepy Hollow--_Irving_
   *22 Rab and His Friends--_Brown_
   *24 Three Golden Apples--_Hawthorne_[1]
   *25 The Miraculous Pitcher--_Hawthorne_[1]
   *26 The Minotaur--_Hawthorne_
  *118 A Tale of the White Hills and Other Stories--_Hawthorne_
  *119 Bryant’s Thanatopsis, and Other Poems
  *120 The Selections from Longfellow--(Paul) Revere’s Ride, The
       Skeleton in Armor, etc.
  *121 Selections from Holmes (The Wonderful One Hoss Shay, Old
       Ironsides, and Others)
  *122 The Pied Piper of Hamelin--_Browning_
   161 The Great Carbuncle, Mr. Higginbotham’s Catastrophe,
       Snowflakes--_Hawthorne_
   162 The Pygmies--_Hawthorne_
   211 The Golden Fleece--_Hawthorne_
  *222 Kingsley’s Greek Heroes--I. Perseus
  *223 Kingsley’s Greek Heroes--II. Theseus
  *225 Tennyson’s Poems--Selected (Any grade)
   226 A Child’s Dream of a Star, and Other Stories
   229 Responsive Bible Readings--_Zeller_
  *258 The Pilgrim’s Progress (Abridged)--_Simons_
  *264 The story of Don Quixote--_Bush_
  *277 Thrift Stories--_Benj. Franklin and Others_
  *284 Story of Little Nell (Dickens)--_Smith_
  *294 The Dragon’s Teeth--_Hawthorne_
  *295 The Gentle Boy--_Hawthorne_

SEVENTH GRADE

Literature

   *13 Courtship of Miles Standish--_Longfellow_
   *14 Evangeline--_Longfellow_[1]
   *15 Snowbound--_Whittier_[1]
   *20 The Great Stone Face--_Hawthorne_
   123 Selections from Wordsworth
   124 Selections from Shelley and Keats
   125 Selections from The Merchant of Venice
  *147 Story of King Arthur, as told by Tennyson
  *149 The Man Without a Country--_Hale_[1]
  *192 Story of Jean Valjean--_Grames_
  *193 Selections from the Sketch Book--_Irving_
   196 The Gray Champion--_Hawthorne_
   213 Poems of Thomas Moore--(Selected)
   214 More Selections from the Sketch Book
  *216 Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare--Part I--Tempest, Merchant of
       Venice, Macbeth
  *231 The Oregon Trail (Cond. from Parkman)
  *235 Poems Worth Knowing--Book III--Gram.
  *238 Lamb’s Adventures of Ulysses--Part I
  *239 Lamb’s Adventures of Ulysses--Part II
  *241 Story of the Iliad--_Church_ (Cond.)
  *242 Story of the Æneid--_Church_ (Cond.)
  *251 Story of Language and Literature--_Heilig_
  *252 The Battle of Waterloo--_Hugo_
  *254 Story of “The Talisman” (Cond. from Scott)
  *259 The Last of the Mohicans (Cond. from Cooper)
  *260 Oliver Twist (Cond. from Dickens)
  *261 Selected Tales of a Wayside Inn--_Longfellow_
  *296 Uncle Tom’s Cabin (Cond. from Stowe)
  *297 Story of David Copperfield (Condensed)
  *307 The Chariot Race--_Wallace_
  *311 Story of Jerusalem--_Heilig_
   315 Story of Armenia--_Heilig_
  *316 Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare--Part II--Hamlet, Midsummer
       Night’s Dream

Nature

  *278 Mars and Its Mysteries--_Wilson_
  *279 True Story of the Man in the Moon--_Wilson_

EIGHTH GRADE

Literature

   *17 Enoch Arden--_Tennyson_[1]
   *18 Vision of Sir Launfal--_Lowell_[1]
   *19 Cotter’s Saturday Night--_Burns_[1]
   *23 The Deserted Village--_Goldsmith_
  *126 Rime of the Ancient Mariner--_Coleridge_[1]
  *127 Gray’s Elegy and Other Poems
  *128 Speeches of Lincoln
  *129 Julius Cæsar--Selections--_Shakespeare_
   130 Henry the VIII--Selections--_Shakespeare_
   131 Macbeth--Selections--_Shakespeare_
  *142 Scott’s Lady of the Lake--Canto I[1]
  *154 Scott’s Lady of the Lake--Canto II[1]
  *143 Building of the Ship and Other Poems--_Longfellow_
   148 Horatius, Ivry, The Armada--_Macaulay_
  *150 Bunker Hill Address--Selections from Adams and Jefferson
       Oration--_Webster_[1]
  *151 Gold Bug, The--_Poe_
  *153 Prisoner of Chillon and Other Poems--_Byron_[1]
   155 Rhoecus and Other Poems--_Lowell_[1]
   156 Edgar Allan Poe--Biography and Selected Poems--_Link_
  *158 Washington’s Farewell Address
   169 Abram Joseph Ryan--Biography and Selected Poems--_Smith_
   170 Paul H. Hayne--Biography and Selected Poems--_Link_
   215 Life of Samuel Johnson--_Macaulay_[1]
  *221 Sir Roger de Coverley Papers--_Addison_[1]
  *236 Poems Worth Knowing--Book IV Adv.
   237 Lay of the Last Minstrel--Canto I--_Scott_[1]
  *276 Landing of the Pilgrims (Orations)--_Webster_
  *305 Wee Willie Winkie--_Kipling_
  *306 Howe’s Masquerade--_Hawthorne_
  *402 Ivanhoe (Cond. from Scott)--_Myers_ (Double Number--12c paper,
       18c limp cloth)


FOOTNOTE:

[1] _These have biographical sketch of author, with introduction or
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=Price 7 Cents Each. Postage, 1 cent per copy extra on orders of less
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  1 =Evangeline.= Biography, introduction, oral and written exercises
    and notes. =18c=

  3 =Courtship of Miles Standish.= Longfellow. With introduction and
    notes. =18c=

  5 =Vision of Sir Launfal.= Lowell. Biography, introduction, notes,
    outlines. =12c=

  7 =Enoch Arden.= Tennyson. Biography, introduction, notes, outlines,
    questions. =12c=

  9 =Great Stone Face.= Hawthorne. Biography, introduction, notes,
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  11 =Browning’s Poems.= Selected poems with notes and outlines for
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  13 =Wordsworth’s Poems.= Selected poems with introduction, notes and
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  15 =Sohrab and Rustum.= Arnold. With introduction, notes and
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  19 =A Christmas Carol.= Charles Dickens. Complete with notes. =18c=

  21 =Cricket on the Hearth.= Chas. Dickens. Complete with notes. =18c=

  23 =Familiar Legends.= McFee. =18c=

  25 =Some Water Birds.= McFee. Description and stories of, Fourth to
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  27 =Hiawatha.= Introduction and notes. =30c=

  29 =Milton’s Minor Poems.= Biography, introduction, notes, questions,
     critical comments and pronouncing vocabulary. =18c=

  31 =Idylls of the King.= (Coming of Arthur, Gareth and Lynette,
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  33 =Silas Marner.= Eliot. Biography, notes, questions, critical
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  35 =Lady of the Lake.= Scott. Biography, introduction, pronouncing
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  37 =Literature of the Bible.= Heilig. =18c=

  39 =The Sketch Book.= (Selected) Irving. Biography, introduction and
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  41 =Julius Cæsar.= Edited by Thomas C. Blaisdell, Ph.D., LL.D. Notes
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  43 =Macbeth.= Edited by Thomas C. Blaisdell. Notes and questions.
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  45 =Merchant of Venice.= Edited by Thomas C. Blaisdell. Notes and
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  47 =As You Like It.= Edited by Thomas C. Blaisdell. Introduction,
     notes, questions. =24c=

  49 =Hamlet.= Edited by Thomas C. Blaisdell. Notes and questions. =24c=

  59 =Poe’s Tales.= (Selected) Biography, introduction and notes. =24c=

  61 =Message to Garcia and Other Inspirational Stories.= Introduction
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  63 =Lincoln-Douglas Debates.= Edited by Edwin Erle Sparks, Pres. Pa.
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  65 =The Man Without a Country.= With introduction and notes by Horace
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  67 =Democracy and the War.= Seventeen Addresses of President Wilson,
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  69 =Treasure Island.= Stevenson. Biography, notes, questions,
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Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are
mentioned, except for the front illustration.

Punctuation has been made consistent.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in
the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have
been corrected.

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original book has been consolidated at the end.



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