The Lost Forest

by John Francis Kinsella

  Chapter 35

  ATAPUERCA

  Lundy’s description of what was probably the largest paleoanthropological sites in world at Atapuerca in northern Spain had persuaded Ennis that a visit was necessary. It was two or three hours drive from his villa in Biarritz some twenty kilometres from the French-Spanish border in the south west of France. The weather in Paris had been exceptionally hot and it didn’t take much persuasion to get Lundy to accept a few days break in the Basque country from where they could organise a short visit the site of Atapuerca a few kilometres from the historical City of Burgos.

  It was in the late afternoon on the fifteenth of the August, the Ascension Day bank holiday, when they took-off for Biarritz. A little more than an hour later as the plane prepared for its approach to Aéroport de Parme in a clear blue sky Ennis was absorbed by the breath-taking view of the majestic Pyrenees that rose out of the low hills to the south, then as they descended turning westward he saw Biarritz that lay before the sparkling Atlantic, Biarritz with its white houses and red tiled roofs. He was just as absorbed by the spectacle as he had been many years before when he had first visited the Basque Country, this time however, another thought wandered through his mind. Those soft green foothills had been certainly the passage used by primitive man migrating to or from the south.

  They were picked-up at the airport by Enrique Suarez, who Ennis employed as caretaker for his villa. Enrique tended to the up-keep of the villa and its fine garden he also acted as chauffeur whenever Ennis was in town. The stocky Portuguese had worked in the French construction for many years until he had been forced to retire on a modest pension following a work accident, his wife, Nicole, a lively French woman, acted as the housekeeper and cook. The couple was lodged in a small but attractive house to one side of the villa that in another age had been the servant’s quarters.

  The villa was situated in a smart residential area of Biarritz, on rue du Fer de Cheval just off avenue Foche, a short walk from his gallery in the town centre. Ennis had bought it for a tune a few years back with a little help from an architect friend, Jim Charret, who had spotted a bargain and with his agreement had acquired through the Tribunal after an endless and typically French family dispute over the inheritance. The villa had been built for a Spanish marquis at the beginning of the twentieth century when Biarritz had been a fashionable destination for European nobility and rich families. It was built on three floors totalling six hundred square metres surrounded by a small but fine garden hidden from the curious by a high wall and protected by large wrought iron gates. Jim Charret had renovated it for Ennis in style after it had been abandoned for several years lying in a state near decay transformed into a squat by a series of hippies and passing itinerants.

  The problem of maintenance and security had been solved when Ennis engaged Enrique Suarez who had been presented by Jim Charret. It had been an excellent decision as Suarez and his wife were totally trustworthy maintaining the villa in first class condition taking care of Ennis and his guests at the shortest of notice.

  The details of their visit to Atapuerca had been confided by Lundy to a friend and colleague, Maurice Lacour, a renowned palaeoarchaeologist from the Department of Human Origins at the University of Perpignan. Lacour was leading a joint research program between the University of Perpignan and the University of Burgos for work on the dating of stone implements discovered at the Atapuerca site.

  The guests were warmly welcomed by Nicole Suarez who showed Lundy and Carol to their respective rooms, informing Ennis that Lacour had called and would arrived in time for drinks towards seven, she confirmed that she had reserved a table for them at a local restaurant just a short walk from rue du Fer de Cheval.

  They planned to leave for Burgos after breakfast the following morning by road, a distance of around two hundred and fifty kilometres that would take them about three hours.

  A bottle of Veuve Cliquot stood in an ice bucket on a low table next to four Champagne glasses in the vast living room situated at the elevated garden level of the villa. The lower level was where Ennis garaged his Porsche Carrera adjacent to an office and gallery where he invited his wealthy clients for private presentation of his latest collection of Asian antiquities.

  Lacour turned out to be an amiable intellectual and an occasional supporter of the Basque independentist movement and in general everything Basque, in spite of his corpulent figure was a good player of pelote. He was a scientist who enjoyed a private fortune inherited from his family who had left him one of the finest vineyards in the Jurançon at the foot of the Pyrenees producing a delicious sweet liquorous white wine appreciated as an accompaniment to duck liver pâté and other culinary specialities of south west France.

  Lacour was in his late fifties, tall with a more than bulging waist line. Ennis was surprised by his full head of greying, curly hair, but soon and not without a lingering doubt more than suspected that it was a toupee woven into what remained of his own hair. His straight white teeth and smooth face left little doubt that he had enhanced his image with plastic surgery and corrective dentistry. Ennis discovered immediately that Lacour was a charming and knowledgeable man, his conversation full of anecdotes and interesting information not to mention his vast knowledge as a life long aficionado of the Correda. In short he was a man who sought to please and not only for his own personal pleasure but genuinely for the company that surrounded him especially when an attractive young woman like Carol was present.

  As they sipped their Champagne Lacour outlined the programme for the following day, concentrating on the cultural and culinary aspects of Burgos and taking pain to emphasise his knowledge and affinity for Spain and the Pais Vascos.

  By the time they had reached the restaurant Ennis and Lacour were already in good spirits, becoming friends as they discovered they shared the same tastes and interests. At table they batted back and forth puns and jokes competing in a friendly joust trying to win the approval of Carol as they savoured the chuleta of beef grilled over a charcoal braise, rare in the middle and deliciously grilled sprinkled with coarse salt on the outside, accompanied by an excellent Rioja from the southern region of Navarre, finishing with thick dark coffee and Patxaran, a local Basque liquor. As they strolled back to the villa in the warmth of the late summer evening air Lacour described his technical innovations for the dating of the stone implements from the Atapuerca excavations and by the time they reached the villa he had explained how they could be applied to the work in Borneo.

  They talked well into the night, their enthusiasm reinforced by well filled glasses of Patxaran exchanging ideas and theories with the result their departure the next morning was pushed back by mutual consent a couple of hours.

  The next morning weather had changed; the sky was heavy with low grey clouds and showers of light rain. Lacour’s Mercedes joined the autoroute at Biarritz, La Negresse, taking the direction of San Sebastian. The road to the south swept through the curves rising and falling with the foothills of the Pyrenees. From Irun they the N1 to Pamplona, a road that twisted and turned as it rose to the central plateau of the Iberian Peninsular five hundred or so metres above sea level. They climbed with ease overtaking an endless procession of Spanish, French and Portuguese trucks that made the run between the Peninsular and northern Europe loaded with their heavy burdens of fruit, wine and machines.

  The almost alpine scenery of the Basque country with its green pine covered mountains suddenly gave way to the arid continental climate and an undulating panorama of golden wheat fields stretching to the horizon about fifty kilometres to the south-west of Pamplona.

  After a short stop for coffee they arrived on the outskirts of Burgos leaving the autopista at exit 2 and turning north to Rubena on the N1. A couple or so kilometres further they followed the direction indicated by panel to Atapuerca and arrived just after ten thirty in the dismal small village under an unusually grey Spanish sky. Lacour explained to his evidently disappointed guests who looked at the desolate scene that it had
not rained for more than two months which was little consolation for his visitors. The long low building of the reception centre was closed and three or four people stood glumly with rucksacks before the door on a kind of platform that resembled the quay of a railway station.

  Lacour spoke in Spanish to an attractive young woman who had the air of a student, she took a key from her bag and opened the door, she was the receptionist. The reception area was a long empty hall with a desk to the left behind the door on which were displayed brochures and books for sale that described the site.

  ‘The visit is three Euros.’

  ‘We have an appointment with Professor Ortega,’ said Lacour in Spanish.

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘He should be here at ten thirty.’

  She took a mobile phone from her pocket and made a call.

  ‘He’s not here yet,’ she replied ending her call.

  ‘Did you speak with him?’

  ‘No, but the bus will be here in ten minutes, you can take a coffee if you like,’ she said indicating the direction to a small bar a short distance further across the road from the reception.

  ‘Is Professor Ortez on the way?’ persisted Lacour.

  ‘I think so,’ she replied with a positive air.

  Lacour shrugged his shoulders. ‘Let’s take a coffee and I’ll call Ortez.’

  The bar was closed, it was morning after the Ascension Day bank holiday, there were few visitors in the village, things would not pick-up again before schools and colleges got back into swing with the new term. They returned to the reception and waited as Lacour tried to call Ortez.

  ‘The bus is cancelled as there are not enough visitors,’ the receptionist gaily announced.

  ‘Okay,’ said Lacour a little put out before an insurmountable wall of incomprehension. ‘It’s probably too early I suggest we drive around to the main entrance of the site, there’s a cabin and we should find some of the research people there.’

  They climbed into the Mercedes and headed towards the N120 that led to La Trinchera about ten kilometres around on the other flank of the low hill, the Sierra Atapuerca.

  ‘On this side it’s a military zone, you can see all those antennas up there,’ he said pointing to the left. On the summit of the small hill, 1024 metres above see level but only a couple of hundred metres above the surrounding plain, they saw a mass of aerials and satellite dishes.

  They turned off the N120 in the village of Ibeas de Juarros and took a dirt road to the entrance to La Trinchera where they parked the car next to a small wooden cabin planted just before the solid gate that led into the excavations.

  A young man approached the car and asked Lacour if it was he who was expecting Professor Ortez, then informed him that the Professor would there in fifteen or twenty minutes.

  ‘Okay,’ said Lacour, ‘we have to wait for a short while, so I suggest we take an overview of the site from above.’ He pointed to a path that led up hill through clumps of low shrubs.

  They followed him as he recalled for the benefit of Ennis the origin of the site of the Sierra Atapuerca. La Trinchera, meaning trench or culvert, was cut into the Sierra Atapuerca between 1896 and 1901 for a railway owned by a British entrepreneur to transport coal and iron ore as well as passengers for the booming industry that had sprung up at that time in the Basque Country of northern Spain.

  The geology of the Sierra Atapuerca was composed of a cap of limestone about one hundred metres thick, a sedimentary rock that was laid down 65 millions of years ago on the bottom of a shallow sea during the Upper Cretaceous period. The rock was composed of the shells and skeletons of small sea creatures that died and sunk to the seabed. As the sea withdrew and tectonic movements forced what had become solid sediments upwards, forming and folding them into hills and valleys.

  At certain moments in geological history the caves discovered in the Sierra Atapuerca were at a lower level and the underground rivers that had drained the surrounding hills dissolved and eroded the limestone, cutting channels into the rock by the dissolution and erosion of the rock’s principal corposant, calcium carbonate.

  When once again when geological forces modified the lay of the land and as the nearby River Arlanzon cut a deeper bed water levels fell and the channels in the limestone were drained leaving empty tunnels and galleries that formed the caves.

  The excavations of the Trinchera cut through the galleries and caves called Gran Dolnia, Galeria and Sima del Elefante. At the time of the excavation nothing special was noticed by the engineers, in fact there was no reason for them to remark the galleries, these had been completely filled by a solid gangue of clay, loose rock and natural debris that looked identical to the rest of the site.

  The railway after its completion had an unexpectedly short life, only nine years after its inauguration it turned out to be unprofitable and was forced to cease operations. In 1917 the owners went bankrupt and the line was completely abandoned to the elements.

  A path led along the edge of the cutting with viewing points where visitors could see the excavation works at Gran Dolnia, Galeria and Sima del Elefante. The mostly smooth grey limestone walls of the Trinchera were punctuated by irregular zones of red earth. Lacour explained that these were cross sections of the cave’s galleries that had been filled with natural debris over hundreds of thousands of years.

  Erected against the face of each of these vertical cross sections was a series of platforms erected on a dense network of yellow scaffolding that rose from the floor level of the Trinchera to the top of the cutting with a roof structure to protect the excavations from the elements. This structure enabled the archaeologists to work on the predefined sections of the excavations, scraping millimetre by millimetre at the accumulated deposits and uncovering the history of early man’s presence at the site.

  From above, overlooking the Trinchera, they were able to appreciate the extent of the site and understand from the cross sectional view how the galleries were formed and how they had been filled over hundreds of thousands of years, a point which was not evident until it had been seen first hand.

  ‘Here you can see how our excavation work has progressed over recent years,’ said Lacour with an expansive gesture of his hand and in a deep voiced professorial tone without the slightest embarrassment in using the first person plural.

  Ennis was amused by Lacour since he had understood from Lundy that they had not been part of the excavation team or worked on the site which had been naturally been the reserve of the Spanish with the exception of minor tasks. Lundy’s team had an associative role in the international research partnership that had been later developed by Burgos University as a complementary research programme. This enabled the Spanish to take advantage of the experience at Perpignan University and their dating methods that relied on advanced scientific equipment developed by the French nuclear industry and the CNRS.

  Ennis was becoming used to Lacour, who charming as he was with an unquestionable scientific knowledge, was a self appointed expert on all that was Basque and by extension Spanish.

  ‘Let’s return to the reception Professor,’ Lacour proposed with a smile.

  They made their way down the slope and saw parked next to the cabin a silver Mitsubishi SUV, a man stepped out, he was tall and distinguished in his middle to late forties, sporting a fine moustache, dressed in khakis and wearing, to the great amusement of Ennis, what appeared to pith helmet, an image out of a Hollywood scientific epic.

  ‘Ah, Carlos,’ cried Lacour advancing, a broad smile of his face and his hands raised in greeting.

  Ortez returned the smile and Lacour stepped to one side as protocol demanded leaving Lundy the first to shake hands with the Spaniard.

  ‘Nice to see you again professor, I’m sorry the weather is not so good today.’

  Lundy graciously waved the apology aside, ‘Professor Ortez, you know my daughter, Carol.’

  Ortez gallantly bowed over her hand, ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ He was an admirer of young wo
men, during his long years at university and head of the Human Origins research program he had been surrounded by willing female students who had enabled him to hone his seductive powers.

  ‘Let me introduce you to John Ennis.’

  ‘Ah, Señor Ennis, I have heard a lot about you.’

  ‘A pleasure to meet you Professor Ortez, I hope what you heard me was not all bad.’

  Lacour then greeted Ortez in Spanish embracing him in a masculine Castilian hug, a signal to the others that he enjoyed a privileged relationship with the Professor. It was true that he had known Ortez for many years, who had been one of Lacour’s students at Perpignan long before Atapuerca had become a household name in the world of anthropology.

  They laughed and then Ortez turned and introduced a young woman who came out of the reception cabin. ‘This is my assistant Lola Martinez.’

  ‘So let’s start our visit.’

  It was a privilege for visitors to be guided by Pr. Ortez, but Lundy’s prestige as one of the world’s leading anthropologists, Director of the Musée de l’Homme and the Institute of Human Palaeontology, an associate partner in the Atapuerca international programme, and protocol demanded his presence.

  ‘Señor Ennis, you must tell me about your extraordinary discovery.’

  ‘Of course, the work on the site is still very confidential because of the agreements we have with the Indonesian authorities, in addition the political situation is extremely unstable.’

  ‘I understand that there’s a difference with Malaysia.’

  ‘That’s right, the border region is not well defined especially when part of the site is underground like here in Atapuerca.’

  ‘What is extraordinarily interesting for us is that Erectus appears to have continued to survive in Borneo for tens and perhaps hundreds of thousands of years after they disappeared in Europe.’

  ‘Yes, that is what we would like to understand perhaps by a comparative study based on your discoveries here in Spain, comparing the two cultures and for example their tool modes, the types of animals that they ate...’

  ‘I see what you mean. So let’s start,’ he said leading the way through the gate into the cutting. ‘We’ll commence with Gran Dolnia that’s further down the Trinchera after Sima del Elefante and Galeria.’ They walked along the floor of the cutting between the vertical walls and past scaffolding that gave access to the excavations.

  ‘So here we are at Gran Dolnia where the deposit is eighteen metres deep, the most interesting, because it was here we found Homo antecessor, the first European’ he announced with pride pointing to a mass of scaffolding that rose up twenty metres on the right side of the ancient railway cutting.

  ‘The work here started before my time in 1976. When the Trinchera was cut for the railway it sliced right through what is now Gran Dolnia exposing it like a layer cake. At that time it was without interest just another face in the cutting. We now know that each layer represents a different deposit laid down over thousands of years and the each of these layers corresponds with climatic variations. Our team had to first remove the earth which had slide into the cutting, you know...washed down by rain and erosion over more than sixty years. Then map the exposed deposits and divided them up into eleven strategraphic levels, labelled from TD-1 to TD-11.’

  They looked up at the flags and marks that identified the levels.

  ‘In 1992 the covering rock was removed then over several years the levels were explored, delicately scrapping away the sediment millimetre by millimetre.’

  ‘When were the fossils discovered?’

  ‘That’s a long story, in each of the three sites tools and bones were found, but in the case of Gran Dolnia it wasn’t until 1985 that prehistoric stone tools were found in what is called level TD-11.’

  ‘And the bones?’

  ‘There were plenty of them, mostly animal bones, however the first human bones found in Gran Dolnia date back to 1994, the 8 July to be precise. In level TD-6 we found skull fragments, part of a lower jaw and upper and lower teeth, these were dated back to 780,000 years.’

  ‘These were Homo erectus?’

  ‘Yes...well...that is...we baptised it Homo antecessor, but it is in fact part of the Homo erectus family.’

  ‘Incredible...780,000 years old,’ Ennis said half to himself in a low whisper, ‘and to think our friend Homo borneensis is also part of the Homo erectus family, is only 3,000 years old.’

  Ortega catching his words said a little tersely, ‘That remains to be verified scientifically of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ interjected Lundy not wanting to start the day on the wrong foot.

  They continued to the other excavations terminating at El Sima del los Huesos, Lacour translating the name ‘The Pit of Bones’, it was a pit thirteen metres deep where the fossilised bones of thirty two individuals were found, men who lived 300,000 years ago.

  ‘Sounds a little like something from Hannibal Lector!’ he laughed.

  ‘This is probably the most important site in the world for human palaeontology,’ said Ortega. ‘Skull 5, Homo heidelbergensis, which we shall see later, is the finest preserved skull ever discovered in the history of palaeoanthropology.’

  ‘Why were there so many individuals found in the same spot?’

  ‘Ah, that’s a good question, we don’t know, there are several hypothesis but the most likely is that it was some kind of burial pit, or sacrificial pit. It is possible that the population of the small community of early humans was too great and certain were probably sacrificed.’

  ‘That means they had developed a fairly advanced concept of community life?’

  ‘Yes, the bones are representative of all ages, children, adults and older persons.’

  Can we visit the Sima del los Huesos?’

  ‘Unfortunately no, for the simple reasons it could be dangerous, it’s a vertical hole thirteen metres deep and at the bottom there’s a broad steeply sloping tunnel with a low ceiling. It’s part of a four kilometre network of tunnels and caves. We wouldn’t like our visitors getting lost or having an accident and leaving their bones there.’

  They all laughed and followed Ortega to the Galeria where they climbed the scaffolding and proceeded to describe the excavation works for the benefit of Ennis. The floor of the level being excavated was about fifteen metres long and four metres wide, criss-crossed by planks and boardwalks. A grid system of strings divided the work area into one metre square sections.

  ‘You can see how the excavation is carried out during the campaign, the excavators, mostly students, work sitting or lying on these planks, supervised by archaeologists and other specialists.’

  Ennis tried to image how the same techniques could be applied in Kalimantan, it was not comparable, Sarawak man was no older than the Egyptians of historic times, builders of the pyramids.

  Ortega continued with his presentation but Ennis had his thoughts elsewhere, nodding from time to time without really listening, the scale of the site was beyond what he could imagine in Kalimantan. What he wanted to see were the fossils, the skulls.

  ‘We shall now take lunch and then visit the Museum, it’s normally closed Mondays, but for our distinguished guests we have arranged a private visit. You will see we have a fine display of the fossils and artefacts that had been found of the site. The visit is at four o’clock so we have plenty of time. In the meantime we have booked you into La Puebla nearby Avenia Cid Campeador in the heart of the old city, it’s a small but charming hotel and very practical, Professor Lundy knows it very well.’

  ‘I’ve stayed there several times,’ added Lacour with a smile of knowing approval.

  ‘Are the skulls in the museum?’ asked Ennis.

  ‘No, unfortunately those in the museum are copies in synthetic resin, of course there are plenty of bones of lesser importance, but the real skulls are kept under lock and key in different laboratories, and under very strict conditions of temperature, heat and light. Our object today is to extract samples of
DNA, if any remains that is.’

  ‘That’s a pity,’ said Ennis unable to hide his disappointment at not seeing the skulls

  ‘But,” said Ortega, “you are lucky, today we are working on skulls 5, 6 and 7 with the scanner at the university. That means after our visit to the museum we can take a look, from a distance, as all human contact with the bones could contaminate any remaining traces of DNA.’

  The museum was disappointing; it was small and seemed detached from the preoccupations of Ennis who was anxious to see the skulls.

  ‘We are building a vast new complex, the Centre for the Science of Human Origins, half a kilometre from here. Right know the works are held up because of archaeological works on ruins discovered under the site,’ he said laughing. ‘So, shall we get over to the university?’

  The laboratory was equipped with a three dimensional ERM scanner that allow them to explore all the hidden intercies of the fossilised skulls and bones.

  ‘What is interesting about our discoveries is that all the bones of the human body, even the smallest have been found, including those of the inner ear and even more important and much more rare...the hiodes bones.’

  Ennis looked at Carol puzzled he did not know what the hiodes were.

  ‘Ah, the hiodes, they are small fragile bones at the top of the larynx connected to the base of the skull,’ explained Carol.

  ‘Yes,’ replied Ortega flashing a smile at Carol. ‘They enable us to reconstruct the form of the throat of Homo heidelbergensis.’

  Ennis was none the wiser.

  ‘Permit me to explain,’ said Ortega taking on a doctorial air. ‘One of the most intriguing questions is whether these early men spoke or not. Our power of speech is a complex subject related to the development of our brain and also the organs that permit us to form the sounds that compose the elements of human language.

  The form of our throat differentiates us from other animals that cannot produce the range of sounds that we can make. Unfortunately the soft elements of our throat and mouth are not fossilised and the hiodes are small and fragile, and as I just explained are very very rarely preserved. However, here we have the hiodes and as a result we can go a long way to reconstructing the larynx of our dead ancestors.’

  ‘So Homo heidelbergensis could speak?’

  ‘Not so fast, we can reconstruct the larynx but we don’t know if his brain was sufficiently developed.’

  Ennis suddenly realised the importance of the planned work in Kalimantan, the fact the Homo borneensis skull was so recent it meant that the small bones could also be present. It was urgent that the penetration of non-authorised persons in the cave be prevented at all costs as their presence could destroy vital evidence. He would mention this to Lundy as soon as they were alone.

  In the scanner room work was in progress. Through the viewing window they saw that a skull was posed on the motorised table of the scanner. The radiologist pressing on the remote control button advanced the table into the annular scan zone and a few instants later a first image appeared on the screen.

  The information stored in the computer was used to reproduce a three dimensional image that could be rotated as desired and viewed in any cross-sectional configuration.

  ‘So Señor Ennis, are you prepared to trust us with your discovery?’

  Ennis was taken by surprise as was Lundy. Ortega laughed, ‘Why not?’

  That evening they were seated in the Asador Aranda in a square just behind the magnificent medieval cathedral. They had invited Ortega to diner and he recommended the ‘lechal cordero’, roast suckling lamb, cooked in wood fired oven, whilst Lacour consulted the wine list selecting a 1989 Rioja Alta. They started by helping themselves from a large plate of delicious Jamon Serrano and another piled with Pimientos Guernica that were lightly grilled with a sprinkling of coarse salt.