Megafauna —

First Victims of the Human-Caused Extinction
Baz Edmeades
Home Notes Author

 

Chapter 10

Hominids as meat-eaters

Hiking in the Okavango Delta in the Southern African country of Botswana some years ago, two friends and I came across a badly-injured buffalo bull. The animal’s stomach and testicles had been raked open, and a short length of intestine was looped over one of his horns. (That loop might, we decided, have come from the lion which had inflicted the buffalo’s wounds.) It’s easy to let nature take its course when you’re at a decent remove, but this animal was dragging the contents of his abdominal cavity over the grass right in front of us. After a short debate on ethics, and on the rules of the Moremi Game Reserve, the ranger-guide accompanying us acceded to our request to shoot it. Like a subway passenger surprised by a lurching start, the bull stumbled sideways as the bullet hit his shoulder. He regained his footing, however, and stood there looking just as distressed as he had before. I asked the ranger if he was going to give the animal another round, but was told that the ammunition was expensive, and that one was going to be enough. Sure enough, the buffalo started relaxing and looking sleepy. After a minute or so, he lay down on his side. We let a decent interval go by before throwing stones at him to make sure he was dead.

After a further debate on ethics and the rules of the Moremi Game Reserve, I took a knife out of my backpack and cut a chunk of steak from next to the animal’s spine. I had to give the handle of that knife several hard punches with the heel of my hand to get its point through the buffalo’s tough, sparsely-haired skin, and wonder, as I write this, whether the crystalline edge of a freshly-struck Oldowan flake might not have done a better job.

Muscle-fibers on the cut edges of the meat were still twisting as I wrapped it in newspaper and stowed it in my backpack. We resumed our hike, and set up camp about four miles further on. It was getting dark by this time, and we made a fire, barbecuing the meat on a bed of thornwood embers. In a restaurant those steaks might have been sent back for being too tough, but their taste and flavor were so marvelous that a general realization dawned that we hadn’t taken enough. As we walked back to the carcass at five o’ clock the next morning to see what had become of to it, wishful thinking was telling me that I might be able to get some more.

There was, however, almost literally nothing left of the buffalo. All we could see was a greasy stretch of flattened grass where it had been lying, a dark patch where its blood had soaked into the earth, and a few small fragments of bone. The animal’s head itself, with its massive horns, was gone, as were the spine, and all the other large bones. The bush was dense at that spot, so some of those big body-parts could have been hidden close by, but it’s as likely that they’d actually been eaten. Here’s what Richard Estes’ Safari Companion tells us about the way the spotted hyena Crocuta crocuta deals with bones:

Utilizes carcasses of large vertebrates more efficiently than other carnivores, which waste up to 40% of their kills. Eats everything but rumen contents and horn-bosses of the biggest antelopes.... Bones, horns, hooves, even teeth are digested completely within 24 hours.

* * *

In the same layers as those which contain the earliest stone cutting-tools found to date, cutmarked bones show, as we saw in the previous chapter, that hominids were using those tools to butcher the carcasses of medium- to large-sized ungulates. We’ll deal, presently, with the issue of whether hominids gained access to those carcasses by scavenging, or by doing the killing themselves. For now we can content ourselves with the non-controversial fact that, by 2.5 million years ago, at least some hominids were eating the meat of large animals.

Antelopes aren’t generally meat-eaters, but some duikers augment their fruit-centered vegetarian diets with the flesh of small vertebrates. The order of which humans are members, the primates, is not, in general, a meat-eating group either, but some of its members have the same kind of “anomalous” liking for meat as duikers do. These include humans, chimpanzees and baboons on the “catarrhine” or Old World side of the family, and capuchin monkeys on the “platyrhine” or New World side. The fact that meat-eating is an exceptional and relatively recent practice in the primate order, is reflected in the fact that primate body-structures aren’t adapted to it in any obvious way. Even though humans eat a relatively large amount of meat, they still have the comparatively broad, flat cheek-teeth that were evolved to process a diet dominated by fibrous plant material, rather than the “carnassial” or meat-cutting ones possessed by true carnivores like cats.

In the nineteen-fifties and early sixties it was still widely assumed that the closest relatives of our species – gorillas and chimpanzees – were pure vegetarians. It was generally accepted, therefore, that the human family must have started eating meat after it had split off from the gorilla-chimpanzee line. That “post-split” incorporation of meat into the human diet was thought, at the time, to have been a revolutionary and momentous innovation – one that had, in the words of a 1963 conference paper, “triggered human evolution, and propelled man to the creature he is today.”

It was then discovered that chimpanzees are also meat-eaters. When Jane Goodall first reported this fact, it was thought that she’d witnessed an aberrant phenomenon – one which was peculiar, perhaps, to the Gombe Stream area in which her observations were made. It only sank in gradually that all bands of the species Pan troglodytes contain individuals who hunt animals and eat their flesh on a regular basis. Troglodytes’ close relative, Pan paniscus, the bonobo, still thought of as a vegetarian long after the meat-eating ways of the former became known, is now known to kill and eat flying squirrels and infant duikers.

The main study-group of chimps in Gombe Stream National Park in Tanzania, consisting of about 45 individuals, is estimated to eat over 1,000 lb. of meat per year – i.e. just over 20 lb. of meat per chimp. As much as half of this annual intake is consumed during the two dry-season months of August and September, a time when plant-food becomes relatively scarce, and chimpanzee body-weights go down.

Most but not all hunting is done by male chimpanzees. Chimps have larger canine teeth than early hominids had, but they seldom if ever use those teeth to kill their prey. They get a firm hold on the animal, rather, – usually by the back legs – and flail it to death against the ground or a tree trunk. Chimpanzees who end up in control of a carcass, sometimes share pieces of it with hunting participants, political allies and/or potential sexual partners. Craig Stanford of the University of Southern California reports that most prey animals are caught by co-operative action at Gombe Stream. Some two thousand miles north-west of Tanzania’s Gombe Stream, in the Ivory Coast’s Tai forest, Christophe Boesch has observed an equally high degree of co-operation in chimpanzee hunts.

To date, chimpanzees have been seen to eat the meat of between thirty and forty vertebrate species. At Gombe Stream the young of bushbucks, duikers and bush pigs appear on their menu. When her baby son was living with her at Gombe, Jane Goodall took special precautions to protect him, because, even though it had happened a considerable time before her arrival, chimpanzees were reliably reported to have killed at least two human infants in that area for food. The Gombe chimps also kill young baboons, but colobus monkeys are by far their most commonly-taken prey. Most of their mammalian prey consists of immature individuals, but some 25% of the colobuses they kill are adults. Craig Stanford estimates that Gombe’s main study-group of chimps kills an astonishing 20% of the colobus monkeys living in their eighteen-square-kilometer hunting range in an average year. “...[C]himpanzees,” he concludes, “may be among the most important predators of certain prey species in the African ecosystems in which they live.”

* * *

While the anthropological world was absorbing this “chimps are effective predators” revelation, comparisons of blood proteins were establishing another new realization: chimpanzees and humans are each other’s closest relatives. (The chimp-human line had, in other words, split off from the ancestors of gorillas before it had split into its separate human and chimp branches.)

These two insights– that chimps and humans are each other’s closest relatives and that both species eat meat – put the origin of human meat-eating in a new light. It’s still thinkable that the human family “invented” meat-eating after its split from the chimp family, (and that chimps had thereafter “invented” it independently of us) but the simpler and more likely explanation is that the common ancestor of humans and chimps originated meat-eating before the split, and then passed that adaptation on to its descendant species. If this is the way things happened, then the species from which chimpanzees and humans are descended, would almost certainly have started its meat-eating career by hunting small animals the way chimpanzees still do, rather than as scavengers.

The earliest direct evidence of meat-eating by our family comes, as we saw in the previous chapter, from the butchered bones of medium-to-large-sized ungulates in the 2.5-2.6 million-year-old horizon at Bouri and Gona. The hominid remains found at different localities within that horizon at Bouri, have been assigned to be a single species which its discoverers named Australopithecus garhi. You may recall that the tool-scratched lower jaw of a “medium-sized alcelaphine antelope” was one of the cut-marked remains found at that horizon. (Alcelaphines are, as we’ve seen, antelopes in the hartebeest-wildebeest family.) A medium-sized alcelaphine like the hirola or “Hunter’s antelope” weighs around 160 lb. The cutmarked femur of a hipparion or three-toed horse found in close proximity to the jaw, represented a species that would probably have been as least as big as a hirola. The butchered “large bovid” tibia found some 200 yards from the alcelaphine jaw represents, presumably, a still larger animal. (Oryxes, by no means the largest of the bovids, can weigh 400 lb.)

Back in the 1960s, stone tools had been discovered in association with the bones of even larger animals at Olduvai gorge in Tanzania in layers just under two million years old. Together with rodent, tortoise, catfish and mollusk remains, 1.8 million-year old deposits at Olduvai contain the butchered bones of not only antelopes and buffaloes, but of mammals as large as rhinos, hippos and elephants.

Raymond Dart was convinced that his little australopithecines could kill Africa’s largest animals. “The animals slain by this man-ape were,” he insisted, “neither all small or slow; they were huge and active.” Dart’s idea that australopithecine hominids hunted and ate other animals was, as I’ll try to show in this chapter, correct. It’s only his assumption that australopithecines hunted Africa’s biggest animals – its elephants, hippos and rhinos – that requires qualification. When Dart made that assumption, it wasn’t yet known that one of the australopithecine hominids was, by the beginning of the Pleistocene, undergoing an increase in body-size that was transforming it into Homo erectus – a species that was, by about 1.7 million years ago, to supplant both the australopithecine species which gave rise to it and any other gracile australopithecine species that may have been around at that time. As we’ll see presently, therefore, the hominids who were hunting elephant-sized animals near the beginning of the Pleistocene may no longer have been australopithecines.

* * *

By the 1980s a reaction had, as we’ve seen, set in against Dart’s view that the australopithecines could have hunted other animals. It began in 1981 when Bob Brain’s book, The Hunters or the Hunted? An introduction to African Cave Taphonomy, demonstrated, as we saw in Chapter 8, that the fossilized bone fragments at Makapansgat were not (as Dart thought they were) selected and modified for use as tools and weapons. The “modifications” which had, in Dart’s mind, turned them into daggers, blades, scrapers, clubs and axes were, Brain demonstrated, consistent with the effects of chewing by animals such as hyenas and porcupines.

Lewis Binford’s Ancient Bones and Modern Myths, which appeared in the same year as Brain’s book, struck another blow against the idea that early members of the human family could have hunted other animals. It suggested that the stone tools and the animal bones which had been found together at places like Olduvai, might have brought together coincidentally by, say, the action of flowing water. The mere fact of spatial proximity did not, in Binford’s view, amount to proof that such tools had been used to butcher the bones they were found with. The proof that Binford was demanding was to emerge, however, soon after the appearance of Ancient Bones. Henry Bunn of the University of Wisconsin identified cut-marks on bones found on the Karari escarpment in Northern Kenya’s Koobi Fora district – cuts that could only have been made by hominids using stone tools to slice through the ligaments attached those bones, and carve flesh off them. Soon afterward, Pat Shipman and Richard Potts found similar marks on bones from other sites in Kenya and in Tanzania.

Did the discovery of these cut-marks turn things around, and convince the anthropological community that early hominids did, after all, have the capability of hunting large animals? The answer to that question is “no.” From about 1980 until very recently, it has been, as Robin Dennell put it in a 1997 comment in Science, “profoundly unfashionable” to talk about big game hunting, or indeed any kind of hunting, by early humans. “Nowadays,” Ian Tattersall could still tell us in his 1998 Becoming Human, “the notion of active, early human hunting of sizeable mammals has largely been discarded...”

The “early humans couldn’t hunt” theory espoused by people like Tattersall and Binford didn’t only deny that the australopithecine hominids could hunt – almost everybody accepted that until the 2.5 million-year-old butchered bones we talked about in the previous chapter came to light at Bouri in 1999. Binford et al were arguing, rather, that later-developing, larger hominids like Homo erectus, H. neanderthalensis and, indeed, early members of sapiens itself, could not have been effective hunters.

Not everyone bought the “early humans didn’t hunt” theory. “I suspect,” Richard Leakey wrote in 1994, “that the recent intellectual revolution in archeology has gone too far, as often happens in science. The rejection of hunting in early Homo has been too assiduous.”

* * *

If it’s true that humans only became effective hunters very recently, i.e. within in the last fifty thousand years, then how do paleoanthropologists explain the fact that animal bones clearly butchered by human-made tools are already present in 2.5-million-year-old deposits? Hominids got hold of such bones, the “humans didn’t hunt until recently” school explained, by scavenging. The adherents of that school sold scavenging as an “objective” or “dispassionate” explanation for early hominid meat-eating. Initially, they explained, we’d resisted the idea that hominids had scavenged to feed themselves, because scavenging was an “undignified” and “unromantic” pursuit. Now, however, (their explanation continued) we were getting out of denial and accepting the “unflattering” notion that our ancestors had lived on the remains of hunter-predators’ kills.

The idea that it’s “unflattering” to be thought of as a scavenger rests, however, on the erroneous assumption that scavenging is a less demanding way of getting hold of meat than hunting. That misconception is related to the classic 1950s myth that scavengers like hyenas and jackals are “cowardly,” “skulking” creatures, while “hunters” like lions are “noble” and “brave.” There’s no denying that the spotted hyena, Crocuta crocuta is well-equipped for scavenging – it’s able, as Richard Estes informed us at the beginning of this chapter, to chew and digest bones that are not chewable or digestible by other carnivores. Crocuta is, however, just as eager to get hold of fresh, meaty carcasses as lions or leopards are, and just as able to satisfy that desire by hunting. Single spotted hyenas kill fully-grown wildebeest bulls, and groups of them successfully take on even larger prey.

Africa’s wild savannas are divided among perpetually-warring clans of these fierce, aggressive animals. Competition for food between, and within, spotted-hyena clans is ferocious. Each clan patrols the boundaries of its “property” regularly, using force whenever necessary to assert its exclusive rights to occupy that territory. Crocuta’s most effective “enforcers” or “soldiers” are its females. “Females,” Estes tell us, “not only dominate males at kills and other favored sites, but also lead clan members on pack hunts, boundary patrols and into battle.”

Many of those battles are with lions. When they have a substantial numerical advantage, hyena packs can force groups of lions – especially those unaccompanied by adult males – to retreat. Male lions have been seen, in their turn, to single out, pursue and kill their enemies’ big, aggressive female leaders. It’s no exaggeration to say that wars of varying levels of intensity are fought on a permanent basis between groups of these two species. Because lions have the upper hand in most direct confrontations, some lion prides actually obtain most of the meat they eat by stealing hyenas’ kills.

Scavenging is not, therefore, something which “noble” animals like lions leave to “undignified” creatures like hyenas or hominids. It is, in fact, often a more desirable option than hunting, and the privilege, accordingly, of the most powerful carnivores. “Carnivores scavenge when they can,” Pat Shipman tells us, “and hunt when they must.” Why should a predator expend its energy on the chancy business of chasing and killing prey, when it can take an already-killed animal from a competitor who will retreat when challenged? Lions and hyenas rob leopards and cheetahs (and each other) at every opportunity. Always on the lookout for “easy meat,” these two top predators pay close attention to the movements of vultures, using those birds as “eyes in the sky” to get early information about kills made in their territory.

This vigilance means that the remains of animals which meet their death in a wilderness ecology will usually be located and devoured quickly. It’s silly to suggest, therefore, as Ian Tattersall does in his Becoming Human, that the tool-marked bones found in association with some Neanderthal living areas could have been obtained from “older individuals who might have died naturally.” In wilderness ecologies, “dying naturally” almost invariably means being dispatched by a predator or predators, and then being consumed without delay by your killer(s), and an eager retinue of mammalian, avian, and invertebrate scavengers. It simply isn’t possible that bodies of animals who had died of old age would have been available frequently enough to supply hominids with a regular source of meat. There’s no question that Neanderthals would occasionally have chanced upon seriously-injured animals like the buffalo my friends and I came upon in the Okavango, or found helpless young deer. In the overwhelming majority of cases they would, however, have had to hunt the animals whose meat they wanted to eat, or get to a kill quickly, and drive its “owners” away with a phalanx of spears and a hail of stones before the latter had a chance to consume too much of their property.

* * *

Stealing a predator’s kill before its “owner” has eaten enough of it to satisfy its own needs, is referred to, for obvious reasons, as “aggressive” or “confrontational” scavenging. Aggressive scavenging can shade off into the “aggressive begging” we see when a group of spotted hyenas harasses lions who’ve eaten their fill, until the latter finally leave the kill to get away from the annoyance.

At the opposite end of the scavenging continuum, we find “passive scavenging.” That’s where the food-seeker waits for the hunters and/or aggressive scavengers to go away, and then walks into the kill-site unopposed, to look for whatever edible scraps they may have left. This, Lewis Binford thought, was the only kind of scavenging early humans indulged in. He acknowledged that carcasses utilized in this way would not usually have any meat left on them. “The major, or in many cases, the only usable or edible parts consisted,” Binford wrote, “of bone marrow.”

The hominid-butchered bone-fragments discovered at Bouri confirm that early hominids did break open bones to get at their marrow, but the cutmarks found on many if not most of the Bouri bones or bone-fragments prove that the bones in question were defleshed before they were smashed open. The position of the cuts on one of them shows, in addition, that it was “disarticulated,” i.e. cut off from a larger fragment or from a whole carcass.

The only kind of “nonconfrontational” scavenging which might have allowed our species regular access to flesh-covered carcasses, is (as I see it) the theft of the gazelle-sized carcasses which leopards often store in trees. Given the fact that australopithecines were agile trees-climbers, I imagine that “larcenous” scavenging of this kind must have taken place relatively often. That possibility does not, however, solve the mystery of how hominids living in the Pliocene and early Pleistocene came into possession of the flesh-covered limbs of mammals larger than gazelles. The medium-sized alcelaphine, the three-toed horse, and the “large bovid” whose remains were butchered by Bouri hominids, are outside the size-range of animals normally killed by leopards, and the human-butchered buffaloes, hippos and elephants found at the early-Pleistocene sites we’ll discuss later, are of course, clearly so.

Shortly after the Bouri bones were discovered, further sets of cutmarked bones were discovered in 2.6 - 2.3 million-year-old layers about sixty miles away, at a locality called Gona. Manuel Domínguez-Rodrigo et al. spell out some of the implications of these finds in the following abstract of a contribution to a Paleoanthropological Society conference published in April, 2003:

Newly discovered archaeological sites at Gona (Ethiopia) preserve both stone and faunal remains. These sites have also yielded the largest sample of cutmarked bones known from the time interval 2.6 - 2.3 million years ago (Ma). Most of the cutmarks on the Gona fauna possess obvious macroscopic (e.g. deep, V-shaped cross-sections) and microscopic (e.g. internal microstriations, Herzinian cones, shoulder effects) features, that allow us to identify them confidently as instances of tool-imparted damage caused by hominid butchery. In addition, the anatomical placement of the cutmarks on several of the recovered bone specimens suggests that Gona hominids eviscerated carcasses, and defleshed fully muscled upper and intermediate limb bones of ungulates – activity which further suggest hominids gained early access to large animal carcasses. These observations support the hypothesis that the earliest stone artifacts functioned primarily as butchery tools and also imply that hunting and/or aggressive scavenging of large ungulate carcasses may have been part of the behavioral repertoire of hominids by c. 2.6 - 2.5 Ma, although a larger sample of cutmarked bone specimens is necessary to support the latter inference.

The cautious note on which this abstract closes is restricted, of course, to the 2.6 to 2.3 million-year-ago time-frame – we’ve accumulated so much evidence of hominid butchery of large animals of the Late Pliocene and early Pleistocene, and accumulated it, moreover, in so many different parts of Africa, that such butchery can no longer be regarded as a fluky or aberrant occurrence. In addition to the Pliocene sites we’ve just been talking about, cutmarked bones have been found at early-Pleistocene sites including Kenya’s Koobi Fora region, Olduvai Gorge in Tanzania, and South Africa’s Sterkfontein Valley. The cumulative message sent to us by these finds, is that the hominids of that time were somehow getting access – on a fairly regular basis – to animal carcasses that had flesh on their bones. As I’ve already argued, it doesn’t ring true that those hominids would, in the normal course of events, have gained possession of flesh-covered bones or carcasses by passive scavenging. Regular access to valuable resources of that kind could, in my view, only have been obtained by hunting or by confronting other meat-eaters.

When we consider the “other meat-eaters” that existed in Late Pliocene-Early Pleistocene Africa, confrontational scavenging begins, however, to look like an even more unlikely alternative than hunting. In addition to lions, leopards and cheetahs, the Africa of that time was inhabited by three species of “machairodont” cat: the scimitar-tooth Homotherium, the “classic” sabertooth Megantereon, and the dirk-tooth Dinofelis. Early-Pleistocene Africa was, as we’ve seen, also inhabited by the enormous Pachycrocuta hyena.

It’s difficult to see how the australopithecine hominids who butchered the Bouri and Gona bones could have defended their kills against – let alone stolen meat from – a beast like Pachycrocuta. This giant hyena lived throughout Africa up until about 1.4 million years ago (and stayed in existence a good half-million years longer outside that continent.) It occupied an immense stretch of territory between Spain, South Africa and China, and occurred, as one might expect from such a widely-spread genus, in a variety of forms. Paleontologists distinguish P. pyrenica, P. bellax, P. robusta and P. brevirostrus. Pachycrocuta’s largest forms were as big as a present-day lion, and the structure of its teeth and jaws shows that it was, like its close relative the still-existing spotted-hyena Crocuta, specially adapted to the business of crushing and eating bones.

Just as we were tempted, therefore, in the late Twentieth Century, to say “early hominids must have scavenged because they couldn’t possibly have hunted,” reflection on the formidable size and power of Pachycrocuta, and on the big cats which existed along with it, could drive us to the opposite conclusion: that the hominids of 2.5 million years ago must have obtained the carcasses they butchered by hunting, because they couldn’t possibly have scavenged! I’ll argue presently that the late-Pliocene australopithecines who processed the cut-marked bones found and Bouri and Gona did obtain many or most of the carcasses they butchered by hunting. We can surmise that the hominid hunters of 2.6 million years ago, might only have been able to defend those carcasses against relatively manageable challengers such as cursorial, striped and brown hyenas, surrendering them, perhaps, only to more frightening ones like Pachycrocuta hyenas and big cats. Gaining the ability to drive off even some kinds of predator-scavengers, would have meant, however, that they had also gained the ability to steal meat from those species. It seems reasonable to assume, therefore, that late-Pliocene australopithecines of the kind that butchered the bones found at Bouri and Gona, might have augmented their hunting activities with both larcenous and confrontational scavenging.

* * *

Adjectives like “crude” and “simple” aren’t used as frequently as they used to be to describe Oldowan cutting flakes, since we’ve become aware of how much knowledge and skill was required to make those tools. Their makers would have to had to know, firstly, how to identify the “isotropic” rocks required for their manufacture – i.e. those that split in any direction, rather than along a single preferred plane like slate. Pliocene tool-makers must, therefore, have been able to identify high-quality tool-making materials like obsidian, flint and chert, and passable ones like fine-grained quartzite. They would, it seems, assay the qualities of likely-looking rocks in the same way a modern geologist does – by hitting them with a hammer (except of course that their hammers would have been stones). “You could tell,” relates Craig Feibel, a geologist-anthropologist who investigated the 2.3 million-year-old Lokalalei 2C tool-making site west of Lake Turkana, “that they would pick up a cobble that was coarse grained, hit it a couple of times, and see it wasn’t good. Then they would pick up a fine-grained rock, see it was the right quality, and keep chipping, and knock thirty flakes off a single core.”

A considerable degree of technical skill would have been required to produce those flakes. By teaching himself to reproduce tools of the Oldowan pattern, Nick Toth has found out that their manufacture involves a great deal more that just banging two rocks together. You have to find a “shelf” forming an “acute” or less-that-90 degree angle in the rock you’ve selected for flaking – or make one – and then deliver an accurate blow about a half an inch from its edge with your “hammerstone,” making sure that the force of your blow travels through the right area of the “core” rock to detach a usable flake.

The late-Pliocene hunter-foragers we’ve been talking about didn’t sit around at a home base making the tools which they would take with them on tomorrow’s or next week’s hunting expedition. Later hominids often did things that way, but Oldowan tools were typically made at the butchery site where they were used. We know this because flakes produced in the course of the manufacturing process are liberally scattered around many kill sites, and because “manuports” – raw material in the form of non-local rocks – are also sometimes found at such sites. We know it, too, because archeologists have repeatedly managed to re-assemble the original cobbles from which flakes were struck, at the places where those tools were used.

The fact that the butchers of the late Pliocene made their “meat cutters” at the places where they used them, shouldn’t lead us to believe, however, that they would only have sought out and collected the raw materials needed to make those cutters after a carcass had been secured. Many or most butchery-sites would have been situated miles away from outcrops of workable rock. Gona is, as I’ve mentioned, the nearest source of tool-making rock to Bouri where the carcass-processing we’ve been talking about was done. If the hominids who gained control of the Bouri carcasses had to walk the sixty miles to Gona to fetch tool-making rocks after they’d secured the carcasses in question, and then walk and sixty miles back, the meat would, of course, have been long gone by the time they got back. It’s generally accepted, therefore, that the Oldowan tool-makers of the late Pliocene and early Pleistocene would, in many cases, have taken their tool-making cobbles with them on their hunting-foraging expeditions, carrying them as unopened packages of fresh blades, so to speak, in anticipation of securing a carcass that would require butchery.

How did those tool-makers carry the cobbles they took with them on those expeditions? Chimpanzees have been seen to carry the rock “hammers” they use for opening certain kinds of nuts for a little over 500 meters, but the hominid toolmakers of the Pliocene carried their “unopened packages of blades” for many miles. It’s highly unlikely that they would have carried those rocks in their hands. One of their hands would have been employed, as I’ll argue presently, in carrying a spear, club or staff. My own experience of walking in the African savanna tells me that the other would have been in constant use, steadying their passage over a rocky outcrop here, and gingerly pushing a thorny branch out of their way there. It would also have been used to pick the berries and other fruits they would have been passing, to shade their eyes, to feel the temperature of fresh dung, and to chase off flies. That “free” hand might have been used for signaling, too, at times when it was critical to maintain silence, and to work with the other hand in the manipulation of weapons.

It’s just not realistic, in short, to assume that the late Pliocene hunter-foragers we’ve been talking about would have carried their tool-making rocks in their hands. Could they have suspended them from their shoulders or necks in animal-skin slings or bags? Hominids may well have “invented” bags of that kind for gathering vegetable foods in the late Pliocene, but hunting and aggressive scavenging would have involved trotting, running at full tilt, and executing all the demanding body-movements that would have been part of the business of bluff, attack, evasion and retreat. A heavy, loose object hanging from the neck or shoulder would interfere with those kinds of movements. It seems likely to me, therefore, that the Oldowan tool-makers may have bound their rock-carrying “bags” snugly against their bodies in a rough kind of “fanny pack.” Tying the simple knots required for this kind of device need not, in my view, have been beyond the capabilities of a hominid who’d acquired the demanding skills required to create stone cutting-tools.

* * *

Now for the matter of weapons. I’ve argued that the hominids who butchered the cutmarked bones found at Gona, Bouri and elsewhere must have obtained the majority those bones either by hunting or by confrontational scavenging. Since late-Pliocene hominids weren’t nearly as big or as powerful as Africa’s largest predators, and since they weren’t equipped with the kind of teeth or claws that those carnivores possess, they could not have hunted animals as big as, or bigger than themselves (or have confronted the big meat-eaters which would have been competing with them) without hand-held weapons like wooden staffs, clubs, or spears, or “distance weapons” like thrown rocks.

Their spears would not have been tipped by stone points. The development of composite weapons of that kind lay more than a million years into the future. Their spear-points were made by simply sharpening wooden shafts. Oldowan cutting-tools weren’t only used for butchery: they were also used for working wood. A 1981 Nature article by Lawrence Keeley and Nicholas Toth reports that the authors established the existence of microscopically distinct wear polishes on products of the so-called Karari Industry, a more recent variant of the Oldowan Industrial Complex (the implements in question date from a about 1.5 million years ago). Nine of the fifty-four implements examined showed wear traces. On three of those nine, the traces were of the same kind as those the authors produced experimentally by working wood with stone tools they had made themselves. One of the three wood-marked tools displayed the kind of crescent-shaped damage scars that the authors produced experimentally by using stone flakes as saws.

It seems likely, therefore, that stone cutting-tools might have been used from their inception to shape spears, and sharpen their wooden points. Hominids may, in fact, have been sharpening sticks and bones by rubbing them against abrasive rock before the advent of stone cutting-tools. Adrienne Zihlmann has underlined the importance that the gathering, transportation and sharing of plant foods must have had for the development of hominid technology. It’s likely, in this view of things, that digging sticks were used before the advent of manufactured stone tools, and the technological distance between a digging stick and a spear is a short one.

I’ll have more to say about the development of tools and weapons presently. Let’s step back, first, however, and take a look at the hominids who processed the 2.5-year-old cutmarked bones that we’ve been talking about. If they’re Homo habilis, or something like that species, then the tops of their heads are probably round, like those of chimps or humans. If they’re Australopithecus garhi, then humps of muscle and fat on top of their heads might have given them a gorilla-like look. (Some of Garhi’s big chewing muscles were, like those of gorillas, anchored to a bony crest running across the top of its skull.) The bodies of such hominids probably look more human-like than their heads, but their forearms remain disconcertingly long and ape-like. Garhi’s thighs are, however, probably longer than those of those of a typical australopithecine. Garhi is, for this reason, taller than the other hominids of that time, but still shorter than modern humans.

If we could travel back in time, and habituate a group of late-Pliocene hominids to ourselves the way Diane Fossey and Jane Goodall did with gorilla and chimp groups, we’d probably come to regard some of them with the affection and respect Fossey felt for Digit, and Goodall had for Flo. We’d like and respect them, though, as fellow-creatures rather than fellow-humans. The sexual and emotional parts of our minds would probably insist loudly that beings like Australopithecus garhi and “Homo” habilis are animals. Chimps, gorillas and orangutans are, however, already disconcertingly human-like animals, so the late australopithecines would, no doubt, have been even more disconcerting in this regard.

Imagine such “animals,” walking upright like humans through the Pliocene bushveld. About a million years will go by before the family of which they are members will learn to use fire, but these beings do not exist in a state of technological naivety. They could be carrying digging, fruit-hooking and hunting sticks, and one or more of them might, as I’ve suggested, be wearing pouches containing raw materials for the manufacture of stone tools and, perhaps, a favorite hammerstone. Those pouches might also contain non-utilitarian but “interesting” objects like shells or stones that caught the eye of their finder. A remarkable jasperite manuport from Makapansgat in South Africa, brought to that site by a hominid between 2.5 and 3 million years ago, has two holes representing eyes, and another representing a mouth. These features weren’t carved into that flat, oval stone – the stone’s resemblance to a hominid face is accidental, but almost certainly the reason why it was noticed and picked up.

Pouches carried by these upright-walking “animals,” might contain food and even water stored in naturally-formed containers like hard-shelled fruits or animal bladders. Infants, too, might be tied against, or suspended from, their mothers’ bodies in animal-skin holders.

* * *

It’s central to Darwin and Wallace’s theory of evolution by natural selection that the bodies and behaviors of living beings change relatively gradually, over thousands of generations. The fact that such change takes place at a slow rate, does not mean, however, (as Richard Dawkins explained with such persuasive clarity in his Blind Watchmaker) that it takes place at a constant rate. It probably proceeds, on the contrary, by what Darwin himself described as “slow and interrupted steps.”

Let’s consider, for a moment, the “slow and interrupted steps” which might have led from the killing and eating of squirrels and infant monkeys by our ancestors, to the hunting and butchering of large antelopes. It’s probable, as we’ve seen, that those ancestors started hunting before they started walking upright. At this stage they would, like present-day chimps, have been killing their prey without hunting weapons, “butchering” it – i.e. tearing it apart – with their hands and their teeth.

Chimps can, as we’ve seen, catch, kill and dismember animals the size of a 25 lb. colobus monkey with their bare hands. It’s quite possible, therefore, that hominids may also have been able to kill and butcher animals of this size without using weapons or tools. It’s less likely, but still possible, that they could have used their bare hands to catch, kill and dismember animals as big as the 50-70 lb ground-dwelling Paracolobus monkeys which lived in the late Pliocene and early Pleistocene. It begins to look highly unlikely, though, that they could have killed and dismembered 100 lb. animals like, say, gerenuk antelopes in this way. By the time hominids were eating the meat of antelopes weighing 150 lb or more, we know for sure (from the archeological evidence we’ve been discussing in this and the previous chapter) that they were butchering those animals with stone blades and scrapers. If they gained control of many of those big antelopes by either killing them or stealing them from their killers, – an unavoidable conclusion in my view – then it’s a practical certainty that they used weapons for both those purposes.

* * *

The development of weapons was, in Charles Darwin’s opinion, intimately linked with our species’ bipedality. “The hands and arms,” he wrote in his Descent of Man, “could hardly have become perfect enough to have manufactured weapons, or to have hurled stones and spears with true aim, as long as they were habitually used for supporting the whole weight of the body...”

“Darwin was arguing,” Richard Leakey comments on this passage, “that the evolution of our unusual mode of locomotion was directly linked to the manufacture of stone weapons.” Since manufactured stone implements only came into use about 2.5 million years ago, Leakey reasoned, and humans have been walking on two legs since at least six million years ago, the two phenomena could not have been related. “Whatever the evolutionary force that produced the bipedal ape,” Leakey concluded, “it was not linked with the ability to make and use tools.”

It’s true that Darwin linked the development of bipedality with the manufacture of weapons, but he didn’t, as Leakey suggested he did, link it to the manufacture of stone weapons. The modification of stone to make tools or weapons must, (as Darwin himself pointed out in The Descent) have been preceded by a long period during which unmodified stones were used for those purposes. Contemporary observations that chimpanzees sometimes throw stones at competitors and predators, and that some chimps use stones to break open nuts, underscores the reasonableness – and, in fact, the obviousness – of this commonsense assumption.

The use of sticks by chimps to expel birds and mammals from in holes in trees, to dig honey out of bees’ nests, and to intimidate competitors and predators also adds credibility to the idea that hominids must have used sticks as tools and weapons for a very long period of time before they learned to make stone tools.

In a very real sense chimpanzees already “manufacture” tools – they pluck, strip and trim the twigs they use for termite “fishing,” prepare the branches that they use to hook fruit-bearing branches into reach, and process the leaf-masses that they use to sponge water out of hollow trees by chewing them. The same logic that tells us that the chimp and human families probably inherited their meat-eating ways from their common ancestor, suggests that that the two families derived their tool-using abilities from the same source. It’s by no means unlikely, therefore, that hominids were using a variety of objects as tools and/or “weapons” (in both modified and unmodified states) before they started walking upright.

Darwin’s guess that the development of “weapons” and upright walking could have stimulated each other’s development remains, therefore, in my view, a good one.

Darwin believed, in addition, that the positive feedback loop which linked upright walking and the use of implements, included the development of our species’ extraordinary level of intelligence. Richard Dawkins questions that linkage. “...[T]his is a rare instance,” he argues, “where Darwin’s tentative guess has turned out wrong. The fossils give a satisfyingly clear and decisive answer. Bipedality came first, and its evolution was more or less complete before the brain started to swell.”

The fact that the Pliocene butchers of the middle Awash had small brains need not, however, invalidate Darwin’s hypothesis that the development of tool-use and bipedalism were linked to an increase in hominid intelligence. Dawkins’ argument against it rests on the assumption that there’s a strict correlation between a primate’s brain-size and its intelligence: if australopithecines had chimpanzee-sized brains, then their mental capacities must also have been on more or less the same level as that of a chimpanzee. Hominids could not, ergo, have become smarter than chimps until their brains got bigger, and, since that only happened millions of years after they learned to walk upright, the “beyond chimpanzee” level of intelligence could not have developed in concert with the development of upright walking (and tool-making) as Darwin thought it might have.

It’s clear, though, that the small-brained australopithecine butchers of Gona and Bouri made stone cutting-flakes, gained control of the body-parts of large ungulates, and used their cutters to disarticulate and deflesh those body-parts. These achievements are very far beyond the intellectual abilities of chimpanzees. The intelligence of at least one hominid species had, therefore, already exceeded that of chimpanzees to a very significant extent while the size of its brain was still close to that of a chimp. The superior intelligence which characterizes our species may well have gotten its start, therefore – as Darwin suspected it did – by stimulating, and being stimulated by, our species’ development of bipedality and its use of tools and weapons.

 

CHAPTER 11 A radically different kind of faculty

 

 

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