FOREST AND STREAM. 
649 
Hunting tHe Hammer Stone 
By WILL W. 
Oct. 24, 1908.] 
clattering of tin camp kettles, or with beatings 
from their machetes struck vigorously together. 
Then some great dried palm leaves were secured 
and fired, each man carrying one, and replenish¬ 
ing the light frequently as palm trees were 
passed. So we went on amid shouting, singing 
and beating sounds, a sort of wild pande¬ 
monium of discord while a flaring light from 
the burning palm leaves illuminated our way. 
On we went, urging our steps as we followed 
the path through the woods, a flashing of light 
around us from the burning leaf torches, on 
either hand the jungles, nearer trees sharply 
outlined in the light, and beyond a contrast of 
T O those who anticipate an account of the 
killing of some newly discovered and in¬ 
teresting South African animal, I will 
state at the outset that the hammer stone is an 
Indian implement, centuries old, and that the 
chase is conducted every summer on a farm 
among the hills of eastern New York. 
I said the hammer stone was centuries old, 
CHRISTMAN 
stone that can be readily and firmly grasped in 
the hand and is pitted almost always on two, 
and occasionally on four or even six sides by 
countless blows on the primitive drill of the 
Indian. It is never of the cobble type, hard 
and glazed, but has a soft, weathered rind that 
took the print of the drill head quickly and be¬ 
came deeply pitted by long use. 
"THE HURRYING CREEK”-THE BOZENKILL. 
From a photograph by E. E. Tolies. 
utense black of the night in the jungles. Some- 
imes voices of wild animals were heard, but 
| -opez said there was no danger, the burning 
'aim leaves, with the shouting and noise, would 
;ee P them away. So on we went in high 
pirits, the men shouting, drumming and sing- 
ng. An hour or two of such traveling and then 
glistening stream of dark, silent water ap- 
1 ' ear ed before us. On the other side was the 
ttle town of Dibulla, and from beyond it we 
ould hear the surf breaking along the shore. 
1 big canoe at the crossing carried us all over, 
nd then it was a comfortable rest for the night. 
think, however, that the young men were 
i ither late getting to bed, but of this I am not 
; ire, because for my part I was tired and, be¬ 
ne long, went to sleep in my hammock. 
but I imagine they were lost last night. Per¬ 
haps "in the beginning” was only yesterday’s 
daybreak. I fancy there were relics even in the 
desolation of that completed cycle before "the 
earth brought forth grass or the herb yielding 
seed” of an older creation not wholly destroyed 
in the rain of fire that renewed the earth. 
The arrowhead invites, the hammer stone 
eludes the eye. Stones rounded by the ancient 
glaciers abound, but few exhibit the character¬ 
istic pits. One must pore over the earth as over 
a book. The plowman turns the pages; the char¬ 
acters get scratched and scarred in the turning, 
but to the keen-eyed reader they are still legible. 
1 he hammer stone is four or five inches long 
by two or two and one-half in width and thick¬ 
ness and is usually roundish or oblong. It is a 
When work vexes and cares perplex, I like 
to go alone on the quest. When no other oppor¬ 
tunity offers I excuse myself with the thought 
that perhaps the Colorado beetles are already 
hatched and I must look after the potatoes, or 
the cucumber beetles have come out of their 
hiding and swept away my melon vines since 
yesterday. The cucumber beetles have a few 
pickets out. The sentinels disperse at my ap¬ 
proach and hide their heads ostrich-like under 
the gravel. 
The chase leads me across the fertile fields 
along the creek. It is June, the time of year 
to renew old friendship. The kingfisher rattles 
noisily overhead. The sandpiper circles labor¬ 
iously around, uttering short, frenzied peeps. 
She has led her downy young from the nest in 
