And there, in the red flames, beheld by all the members of the tribe, lay the marvelous basket with its clay lining. And soon the grasses of the basket burned away and when the fire died down the Foolish One saw the clay lining lying among the coals. It was round and firm and almost perfect in shape. He peered into it and running to the river, filled it with water. And, marvel of marvels! the clay had grown hard in the fire and the first jug the tribe had ever made or seen or dreamed of, held water, from which there leaked not one single drop. For a long time the Cave People made their jugs by lining baskets with clay and burning off the grasses, leaving the jugs unmarred, till they learned newer and better ways of making pottery. [Illustration] [Illustration] X _The_ ARROW THROWERS For many years the Bow and Arrow Folks had been the most ferocious as well as the most skillful of all the tribes that dwelt in the heart of the luxuriant lands along the banks of the Father of Rivers. Every other tribe had long since learned to hate and fear them beyond any other living creatures. The Bow and Arrow Folks might wander whithersoever they wished, might drive the Hairy Folk and the Tree Dwellers and the Cave People from the places that had known them, might bring death and destruction in their train, provided only that they traveled and fought in numbers and bore wide quivers filled with very many of their magical stinging darts. Up to the appearance of the Dart or Arrow Throwers, with their marvelous weapons, the Cave People had always been able to meet their human foes on terms nearly approaching equality. The Hairy People and the Tree Dwellers, and even the man-eaters, had all to come to close quarters in their life and death contests. Then there was much to the advantage of the Cave People, who were of heavier build and who possessed greater strength and speed of limb than any of their man enemies. None of these was able to shoot a dart across the river into the breast of an enemy. But the Arrow People were more fearful than the great saber-tooth himself. One could dig pits, covered with branches of leaves in the hope that they might stumble into these and hence be dispatched to the long sleep; it was quite as likely as not that the Arrow People would not approach near enough to fall into them. When the Arrow People came whooping over the hills sending down their rain of arrows into the flesh of the Cave People, Strong Arm had gathered his small band about the big fire where they had crouched low. But even the protecting blaze could not prevail against the invaders. Their darts flew through the smoke and the flame and pinned more than one of the Cave People to the earth.