ed eagerly. He spread them out; he examined; he grunted and
grimaced and paused in perplexity. It was difficult to choose when each
might do! But he chose, weighing each in his hand before discarding,
until finally _one_ remained.

He grunted his pleasure, knowing purpose now. The vines! Again he
selected carefully. _Tight_, said the thing-that-prodded, _it must be
tight or you will have only a throw-stone_.

And so began the long task of arranging stone to shaft, as he brought
the vine round and round again. It was crude; his fingers were clumsy
and unaccustomed; the vine tangled and tore, and there was no way of
fastening. But with each failure he found new ways, until at last it was
done.

It was done! A thing of extended strength and weight, at once so
wondrous that Gral could only place it before him and stare. He felt a
pulsing at his throat, his thoughts went leaping. Obe the Great Bear!
Now he could bring Obe many times! Even Otah the Thrower-of-Stones would
be in awe!

Gral lifted the thing of his creation ... and just a little way distant,
his glance caught the bole of a tree. _Now this will be Obe the Great
Bear_ ... then Gral leapt forward, arm outflung in the arc he
remembered.

Truly and without effort the weight went to the mark. It made impact
that jarred him from arm to shoulder, but this he did not mind because
his weapon's edge brought a great gaping wound to the weathered bole.

_... the first sound of isolate words across a wire. The initial shock
of mushroom-shape above an atoll. The fierce clutch of a weighted shaft
newly fashioned ... man stands always_ FOR A MOMENT _in awe of what man
has wrought._

* * *

For a moment only. And so Gral stood stark in his moment of awe, truly
frightened as he visioned what such a blow might have done to Obe. But
Gral was truly man, truly prototype; for the time of one deep breath he
felt it, then awe and fright were gone as he exulted.

Once more he brought the shaft _up_ in smooth swing and _down_ in the
arc....

Alas for Gral--alas for research. Alas for all the effort and
application and the prodding-thing within. It was Gral's destiny yet to
know that a mere day's effort was only the beginning.

For his second mighty swing did not reach the bole-bark. It reached
nothing but air. He felt a sudden lightness as the stone fled from
shaft, and he was left holding a stick trailing vines at the end.

Undaunted, he tried again, and