A straggling spray of light reflected from the cliffs overlooking the Düssel, penetrated a dark cavity in the southern limestone wall—the Cave of the Neander Gorge. It dimly disclosed a dark mass heaped in one corner of the cave. The mass—something lying beneath a frayed hyena-skin—was surmounted by a large bun-shaped head, faced with gaping eye-sockets, protruding muzzle and chinless jaws. The head seemed lifeless. It remained cold and still, as a wasted hand, thin and nail-clawed, emerged from under the hyena-skin and stole tremblingly upward. A pair of eyelids fluttered in the gaping sockets as the hand encountered the cold brows above them. The eyelids lifted and two eyes gazed up at the low roof and dusky walls, then rolled in the direction of the cave entrance. As they encountered the outside light, they blinked feebly and stared through the glare in wonder at the pale blue sky and feathery clouds beyond. Then the head turned slightly and permitted the eyes to look upon[148] a shelf or platform of rock, fronting the cave-mouth.

Upon the platform, sat an image which appeared out of harmony with the lifeless things about it; nor did it resemble sky or cloud. It was the figure of a man sitting upon a rock near the cave entrance; a man bare of all vestment except that which covered his body from head to foot—his own hair, thick and bristly like a boar’s. His head was inclined forward so that only the base of the skull-cap could be seen. The latter was of lesser girth than the huge neck which joined it to the shoulders. And such shoulders! They and the broad back were proportionately even more massive than the bull-like neck. That was all. The image sat with features averted and the wondering eyes could see no more.

And then, as though sensible of something regarding it from behind, the image moved. The great back turned slowly around and a face peered from behind one shoulder at the figure lying on the cave-floor. As its gaze met that of the wondering eyes, the image unfolded its limbs and stood erect, a living man.

A man?—rather a giant; stranger from another world. The eyes staring from the grotto had never gazed upon a more extraordinary human being. The heavy brows so characteristic of all cave-folk,[149] were exaggerated into great bars of bone which transformed the deep eye-sockets into cavernous recesses. They continued far forward from the sloping forehead like the eaves of a roof. The skull top receded at a low angle to meet the hind portion. The mouth was large, the lips thin, the nose prominent but well-formed. The body and, limbs, particularly the arms and shoulders were of tremendous size and strength.

The apparition now strode to the cave entrance whose roof barely cleared the huge head. As it stood silhouetted against the sky, its herculean proportions were clearly displayed. And yet in spite of his gigantic stature the Man of the Neander Gorge was but an exaggeration of a familiar type—the race of Moustier.

He entered the cave and bent over the figure lying there. The wondering eyes followed his every motion as in a dream. What with the sombre surroundings, the death-like silence and this vision of a motionless image suddenly transformed into a living being, the eyes continued staring as though just opened for the first time upon the marvels of an unknown world.

Slowly the Giant’s huge hand reached down and stroked the cold forehead,—a hand of iron and yet so soothing, the eyes drifted back to earth and became one with the mind and substance of the body.[150] They lost their blank expression and stared curiously into the strange face now bending over them. A touch of crimson warmed the sunken cheeks and the sick man asked in a hollow voice: “Who are you?”

“A man.” The Giant’s face brightened as he answered. That touch of the hand, the look of sympathy, were indications of certain elements which define human character and which men alone possessed. The Cave Man of the Neander Gorge was fierce and terrible to look upon; but all the more, a man.

The sufferer’s eyes closed and he sighed as though content. The corners of his mouth expanded slowly backwards towards his ears. The Giant stared amazed; but as he looked and wondered, a warm glow arose within his breast. His face reflected the sunshine of that smile whose like he had never seen light the features of beast or man. It was but a grinning mouth; and yet for the first time he gazed upon white teeth that neither snapped nor threatened but touched a responsive chord in his own breast.

“And what strange being are you?” he asked in a deep voice. “You whose snarl would make even a rabbit lose its fear of red jowl and gleaming fang?”

“I?” The eyes of the sick man opened wide.[151] His brows wrinkled as vainly he strove to collect his thoughts. “Arrah; I do not know,” he answered faintly. “Where am I? Why am I here?”

The Giant’s face darkened. “Ugh; that I would like to know. Did you think to drive me from my cave? Who are you?”

“I do not know,” replied the sick man, startled by the other’s manner. “I remember nothing but what I have seen these few passing moments.”

The Giant’s wrath subsided as he observed the invalid’s perplexity. He even chided himself for his hasty display of temper. As the sufferer dozed off, he resumed his seat near the cave-mouth, turning from time to time to glance at the sleeper like a nurse awaiting the patient’s pleasure.

This was but the awakening,—light emerging from obscurity; the return of a mind long dead to the living body. But in that which lay upon the cave-floor, none would now recognize the once powerful Ape Boy of Moustier.

Long illness had wasted his muscular frame almost to a skeleton. His head was a grinning skull with hairy parchment stretched so tightly over its ridges and hollows, they threatened to break through. His body and limbs were little more than hide and bone. He was dead to look upon. The life-spark glowed feebly; but it burned. The fever had now left him, permitting his strength to return[152] and repair the ravages of............