Hostname: page-component-586b7cd67f-tf8b9 Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2024-11-25T11:20:04.952Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false

The Elephant in the Handaxe: Lower Palaeolithic Ontologies and Representations

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  05 February 2021

Ran Barkai*
Affiliation:
Department of Archaeology and Near Eastern Cultures Tel-Aviv University Ramat Aviv 6997801 Tel-AvivIsrael Email: [email protected]; [email protected]
Rights & Permissions [Opens in a new window]

Abstract

Indigenous hunter-gatherers view the world differently than do WEIRD (Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich and Democratic) societies. They depend—as in prehistoric times—on intimate relationships with elements such as animals, plants and stones for their successful adaptation and prosperity. The desire to maintain the perceived world-order and ensure the continued availability of whatever is necessary for human existence and well-being thus compelled equal efforts to please these other-than-human counterparts. Relationships of consumption and appreciation characterized human nature as early as the Lower Palaeolithic; the archaeological record reflects such ontological and cosmological conceptions to some extent. Central to my argument are elephants and handaxes, the two pre-eminent Lower Palaeolithic hallmarks of the Old World. I argue that proboscideans had a dual dietary and cosmological significance for early humans during Lower Paleolithic times. The persistent production and use of the ultimate megaherbivore processing tool, the handaxe, coupled with the conspicuous presence of handaxes made of elephant bones, serve as silent testimony for the elephant–handaxe ontological nexus. I will suggest that material culture is a product of people's relationships with the world. Early humans thus tailored their tool kits to the consumption and appreciation of specific animal taxa: in our case, the elephant in the handaxe.

Type
Special Section: When Materials Speak about Ontology: A Hunter-Gatherer Perspective
Creative Commons
Creative Common License - CCCreative Common License - BY
This is an Open Access article, distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution licence (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits unrestricted re-use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.
Copyright
Copyright © The Author(s), 2021. Published by Cambridge University Press on behalf of the McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research

When we look about us on the earth, what we see is colored by our worldview and the languages that we use to describe our observations. A landscape of streams and lakes, mountains and rich valleys, shared by thousands of species of plants and animals, is understood through the lens of the western materialist worldview as a wealth of ecosystem services or natural resources. In contrast, through the lens of traditional Indigenous philosophy the living world is understood, not as a collection of exploitable resources, but as a set of relationships and responsibilities.

Kimmerer (Reference Kimmerer, Nelson and Shilling2018, 27)

Introduction

Today a thriving human lineage occupies every continent, whereas the elephant lineage, comprising some of the largest mammals that ever walked on Earth, is endangered and geographically restricted to regions of Africa and Asia. (‘Elephant’ refers to all members of the Proboscidea taxonomic order, extant and extinct). Seven million years ago, the human clade underwent its earliest evolutionary divergence in Africa, while megaherbivores, including several proboscidean taxa, were distributed across the globe and showed impressive taxonomic diversity and richness (Faith et al. Reference Faith, Rowan, Du and Koch2018). Therefore, human evolutionary history is characterized by the co-existence of humans and proboscideans, and the prehistoric archaeological record testifies to human–elephant interactions throughout time and space. In parts of Asia and Africa, close to the equator, the human–elephant interaction continues today, following a legacy of hundreds of thousands of years. In Europe, the rest of Asia and America, however, this interaction ended at the terminal Pleistocene, with the extinction of proboscideans. In specific regions in Africa and the Levant, however, the disappearance of elephants seems to have occurred during the Middle Pleistocene and was linked to significant cultural and technological transformations in human behaviour and adaptation strategies (Barkai et al. Reference Barkai, Rosell, Blasco and Gopher2017; Ben-Dor et al. Reference Ben-Dor, Gopher, Hershkovitz and Barkai2011; Blasco et al. Reference Blasco, Rosell, Sánchez-Marco, Gopher and Barkai2019a,Reference Blasco, Rosell, Arilla, Margalida, Villalba, Gopher and Barkaib; Potts et al. Reference Potts, Behrensmeyer and Faith2018). Prehistoric sites throughout the Old and New Worlds present ubiquitous evidence for the significant role in diet and culture elephants played in early human adaptation and well-being during the Palaeolithic (c. 2 million–10,000 years ago). Proboscidean remains are found in many Pleistocene sites and are associated with several human species (e.g. Homo erectus, H. neanderthalensis and H. sapiens).

Palaeolithic nutrition was based on animal meat and fat, in addition to vegetal sources, and archaeological sites bear evidence of elephant exploitation for dietary purposes by the use of stone tools. I argue that Proboscideans, when available, provided an unprecedented food-package for early humans, and that actually successful human subsistence depended largely on megaherbivores. Moreover, the central role of elephants as a food source, coupled with the social and behavioural similarities between elephants and humans (Lev & Barkai Reference Lev and Barkai2016), might explain the inclusion of these animals in early human cosmology and symbolic expressions (most vividly expressed in Palaeolithic parietal and mobile imagery: see e.g. Braun & Palombo Reference Braun and Palombo2012; Hussain & Floss Reference Hussain and Floss2015).

Homo erectus, the ancestor of Homo sapiens and Neanderthals, was obliged by their increased body size and energetically expensive brain and by the ceiling on the amount of protein they could safely digest to consume large animals high in fat. An association between the large-brained Homo erectus and the increased consumption of meat and fat, associated also with primary access to carcases, has been noted (e.g. Aiello & Wheeler Reference Aiello and Wheeler1995; Pobiner et al. Reference Pobiner, Rogers, Monahan and Harris2008), with some researchers concluding that Homo erectus evolved to be a member of the hypercarnivore guild (e.g. Domínguez-Rodrigo & Pickering Reference Domínguez-Rodrigo and Pickering2017; Werdelin & Lewis Reference Werdelin and Lewis2013). I highlight the significance of proboscideans in human diet, culture and well-being in the Lower Palaeolithic, as well as the persistent production and use of the iconic Acheulean handaxes. I argue towards a dual functional-ontological link between elephants and handaxes and suggest that the extraordinary pattern of using broken elephant bones for the production of bone handaxes is a manifestation of Lower Palaeolithic cosmologies and ontologies, centred on the elephant.

Fat, meat and the role of elephants in indigenous hunter-gatherer societies

Most indigenous hunter-gatherer societies depend to a significant extent—as they did in prehistoric times—on calories extracted from land and sea mammals. This was true mostly during Lower and Middle Palaeolithic times, when megaherbivores roamed the landscape presenting the highest biomass density (Ben-Dor & Barkai Reference Ben-Dor and Barkai2020) and continued ever since, although the extent of plant consumption by humans rose since the late Quaternary extinction of megafauna some 40,000 years ago. Fat and meat fuelled human biological and cultural evolution, and the well-documented indigenous craving for fat and meat in recent societies (e.g. Biesele Reference Biesele1993; Tanner Reference Tanner2014) is also reflected at prehistoric sites throughout the Old and New Worlds by the ubiquitous presence of the remains of consumed prey and the emphasis on fat acquisition (e.g. Ben-Dor et al. Reference Ben-Dor, Gopher, Hershkovitz and Barkai2011; Reference Ben-Dor, Gopher and Barkai2016; Blasco et al. Reference Blasco, Rosell, Arilla, Margalida, Villalba, Gopher and Barkai2019b; Boschian et al. Reference Boschian, Caramella, Saccà and Barkai2019; Morin Reference Morin2020; Solodenko et al. Reference Solodenko, Zupancich, Cesaro, Marder, Lemorini and Barkai2015; Speth Reference Speth2020).

Fat and protein have been recognized as essential elements in human diet during the Pleistocene (e.g. Bunn Reference Bunn and Ungar2006; Domínguez-Rodrigo & Pickering Reference Domínguez-Rodrigo and Pickering2017), in addition to complementary calories from vegetal sources (Hardy et al. Reference Hardy, Brand-Miller, Brown, Thomas and Copeland2015). Fat and protein from animal carcasses are a source of essential amino acids, minerals, vitamins and fatty acids (Friedman Reference Friedman1996; Givens et al. Reference Givens, Kliem and Gibbs2006). Fat provides 9 calories/gramme at a minimal digestion cost, while carbohydrates and protein provide only 4 calories/gramme, and hence fat is the densest form of energy available in nature (Outram Reference Outram, Miracle and Milner2002). Its taste, too, has been documented to be favoured by humans (Reshef & Barkai Reference Reshef and Barkai2015), and it is plentiful in large herbivores even when other resources are scarce. Human protein consumption is also known to have accepted ceilings, dependent on the ability of the liver and renal system to dispose of its by-products (Ben-Dor et al. Reference Ben-Dor, Gopher, Hershkovitz and Barkai2011; Reference Ben-Dor, Gopher and Barkai2016). Thus, on average, humans are able to gain only about one-third of their daily calorific intake from meat (Speth Reference Speth2020). Vegetal food is not always available and accessible, its processing is demanding and its digestion is energetically costly (Ben-Dor & Barkai Reference Ben-Dor and Barkai2020). Prior to the habitual use of fire, plant consumption for dietary proposes must have been minimal (Barkai et al. Reference Barkai, Rosell, Blasco and Gopher2017). Fat is available year-round, there are no physiological limitations on its consumption and it provides ultra-nutritious and tasty calorific supply.

Homo erectus (senso lato) appeared on the scene some two million years ago in Africa, equipped with extended brain capacity, large body size and digestive and dental systems adapted towards high-energetic foods capable of sustaining the large brain and body (e.g. Aiello & Wheeler Reference Aiello and Wheeler1995; Domínguez-Rodrigo & Pickering Reference Domínguez-Rodrigo and Pickering2017; Zink & Lieberman Reference Zink and Lieberman2016). Animal fat and marrow provided the necessary food intake for the essential daily energy expenditure, especially in cases where plants were not available in abundance and prior to the habitual use of fire for cooking (Ben-Dor et al. Reference Ben-Dor, Gopher, Hershkovitz and Barkai2011). The Lower Palaeolithic archaeological record is indeed consistent with such a scenario (Barkai et al. Reference Barkai, Rosell, Blasco and Gopher2017; Domínguez-Rodrigo & Pickering Reference Domínguez-Rodrigo and Pickering2017). This dependency on meat and fat led to the regular acquisition of animal carcasses by hunting (as well as scavenging) and a preference for megaherbivores such as elephants, mostly because they provided large quantities of high-quality fat (Agam & Barkai Reference Agam and Barkai2016; Reference Agam and Barkai2018; Guil-Guerrero et al. Reference Guil-Guerrero, Tikhonov, Ramos-Bueno, Grigoriev, Protopopov, Savvinov and González-Fernández2018).

The hunting of very large animals, including elephants, was surely demanding, but does not require extraordinary means (Agam & Barkai Reference Agam and Barkai2018; Churchill Reference Churchill1993; Lewis Reference Lewis2015). Moreover, the preferred human consumption of large animals can be deduced from the decline, and even disappearance, of large animal populations in Pleistocene Africa and the Levant (Ben-Dor & Barkai Reference Ben-Dor and Barkai2020; Ben-Dor et al. Reference Ben-Dor, Gopher, Hershkovitz and Barkai2011; Potts et al. Reference Potts, Behrensmeyer and Faith2018; Smith et al. Reference Smith, Smith, Lyons and Payne2018) and from the prominent role of elephants, along with other large mammals, at Early and Middle Pleistocene hominin sites worldwide.

Proboscideans, with their large size and high fat content, must have been an essential source of calories for early humans. In analysis of mammoths found in permafrost Siberia (Guil-Guerrero et al. Reference Guil-Guerrero, Tikhonov, Ramos-Bueno, Grigoriev, Protopopov, Savvinov and González-Fernández2018), fat-rich organs were suggested to be of ultimate importance for Stone Age hunters:

Brain, bone marrow, subcutaneous fat, viscera and meat would have been the targeted mammoth organs for Stone Age hunters and given the high energy needs of Stone Age hunters, protein-rich food, such as meat, should have been ingested to a lower extent than other fatty tissues. (Guil-Guerrero et al. Reference Guil-Guerrero, Tikhonov, Ramos-Bueno, Grigoriev, Protopopov, Savvinov and González-Fernández2018, 459)

Moreover, the authors suggested that the fat available from large mammals would have provided sustenance for a group of people for an extended period:

Achieving 4500 kcal, the previously estimated daily energy need at those times, would have been possible by consuming ~566 g of meat complemented by ~592 g of fatty tissues, such as subcutaneous fat. For a mammoth of ~3.0 tons, ~5% subcutaneous fat and other similar fats distributed throughout the body would be a conservative figure, and thus a medium-sized mammoth would have stored ~1 million kcal as fat, providing clean energy for a hunting group of 12–24 individuals for approximately 9–18 days, while the consumption of variable amounts of meat would have extended this figure for some days. (Guil-Guerrero et al. Reference Guil-Guerrero, Tikhonov, Ramos-Bueno, Grigoriev, Protopopov, Savvinov and González-Fernández2018, 461)

It should be stressed that the above calculations do not take into consideration the consumption of bone marrow, one of the most elementary nutrients and a favourable source of calories for Palaeolithic humans (Boschian et al. Reference Boschian, Caramella, Saccà and Barkai2019). Thus, when the contribution by bone marrow is added to the sum of calories provided by a proboscidean, the quality and significance of this food package is surely unprecedented. Moreover, African Pleistocene elephants were much larger and heavier than the European mammoths (up to 8–10 tons in weight); their dietary potential is thus much higher than the above estimates. In addition, recent research on the fat composition of juvenile frozen mammoths shows a rare nutritional value of their fat itself, with a high concentration of polyunsaturated fatty acids, which are known to build up cell membranes. Fat from juveniles also had a higher nutritional profile due to milk intake (Guil-Guerrero et al. Reference Guil-Guerrero, Tikhonov, Rodríguez-García, Protopopov, Grigoriev and Ramos-Bueno2014). These nutritional properties, the large number of juvenile elephant bones found at various sites and the better taste of young animal fat might indicate a preference for proboscidean calves by Pleistocene humans (Reshef & Barkai Reference Reshef and Barkai2015). Moreover, it should be highlighted that isotopic studies indicated time and again that Palaeolithic humans consumed proboscidean meat and fat even in the absence of relevant bones in the faunal record, strongly indicating the underrepresentation of the role of megaherbivores in the Palaeolithic human diet (Bocherens Reference Bocherens, Hublin and Richards2009; Reference Bocherens, Conard and Richter2011). Likewise, it was recently argued that both human behaviour in the past and the methods of calculating the contribution of large animals to the human diet in the present actually mask and underappreciate human dependency on calories provided by megaherbivores (Ben-Dor & Barkai Reference Ben-Dor, Barkai, Konidaris, Barkai, Tourloukis and Harvatiin press; Bocherens Reference Bocherens, Konidaris, Barkai, Tourloukis and Harvatiin press).

Palaeolithic sites demonstrate the ubiquitous consumption of large herbivores by early humans and it is becoming rather evident that hunting was practised as a primary procurement strategy for humans to meet their calorific and nutritional demands (Bunn Reference Bunn2019; Domínguez-Rodrigo & Pickering Reference Domínguez-Rodrigo and Pickering2017). There is also ample evidence that, during the Palaeolithic, elephant bones were used as material for tool production. Proboscidean bones were also used as fuel and as material for constructing dwelling structures and windbreaks. Furthermore, elephants and mammoths are also significantly represented in Palaeolithic parietal depictions and mobile ‘art’ in Upper Palaeolithic Europe and in the production of non-utilitarian items such as bone handaxes in Europe, Africa and Asia during Lower Palaeolithic times (Barkai Reference Barkai, Lavi and Friesem2019; Gaudzinski et al. Reference Gaudzinski, Turner and Anzidei2005; Hussain & Floss Reference Hussain and Floss2015; Zutovski & Barkai Reference Zutovski and Barkai2016).

Lower Palaeolithic stone handaxes, and the peculiar presence of handaxes made of elephant bone

Stone tools provide a unique window into the mode of adaptation and cognitive abilities of Lower Palaeolithic early humans. As stone tools (along with animal bones) are often the sole remains of early human activities, the persistently produced large cutting tools (bifaces/handaxes) have long been an appealing focus of research in the reconstruction of Lower Palaeolithic survival strategies. In general, Lower Palaeolithic stone-tool technologies are characterized by flakes and flakes shaped as tools, while the canonic handaxe is considered as the most prominent Acheulian tool-type (see Finkel & Barkai Reference Finkel and Barkai2018). Handaxes (Fig. 1) are relatively large items shaped by bifacial flaking that reflects skilled production and in many cases extended life-history. Despite recent research that strongly highlights the variability and complexity of Acheulean lithic technologies, and most prominently the role of flakes in human adaptation (e.g. Agam et al. Reference Agam, Marder and Barkai2015; Lycett & Gowlett Reference Lycett and Gowlett2008; Venditti et al. Reference Venditti, Cristiani, Nunziante-Cesaro, Agam, Lemorini and Barkai2019a), the canonic handaxe still attracts most of the scholarly attention and is still considered as a hallmark of the Acheulian.

Figure 1. A handaxe from late Acheulean Revadim, Israel.

The available functional, technological, and experimental data imply that Lower Palaeolithic handaxes were most probably employed in animal carcass processing (e.g. P. Jones Reference Jones1980; Keeley Reference Keeley1980, 160–70; Machin et al. Reference Machin, Robert, Hosfield and Mithen2007; Mitchell Reference Mitchell1996; Solodenko et al. Reference Solodenko, Zupancich, Cesaro, Marder, Lemorini and Barkai2015). However, this issue is still hotly debated. Handaxes were sometimes in operation in the execution of tasks not related to animal carcass processing (e.g. Domínguez-Rodrigo et al. Reference Domínguez-Rodrigo, Serrallonga, Juan-Tresserras, Alcala and Luque2001; Hardy et al. Reference Hardy, Moncel, Despriée, Courcimault and Voinchet2018; Zupancich et al. Reference Zupancich, Solodenko, Rosenberg-Yefet and Barkai2018), and thus it was suggested that handaxes acted as multipurpose tools. I argue that the available data point towards repeated archaeological association of animal carcasses and handaxes (e.g. Goren-Inbar et al. Reference Goren-Inbar, Alperson-Afil, Sharon and Herzlinger2018; Solodenko et al. Reference Solodenko, Zupancich, Cesaro, Marder, Lemorini and Barkai2015) as well as the efficient use of handaxes in de-fleshing and dismembering animal carcasses (Fig. 2), and in particular carcasses of large herbivores (e.g. P. Jones Reference Jones1980; Reference Jones1981; Key & Lycett Reference Key and Lycett2015; Reference Key and Lycett2017).

Figure 2. A replica of a flint handaxe used in experimentation of deer butchery. (Courtesy of Ruth Blasco and Jordi Rosell.)

A previous paper (Finkel & Barkai Reference Finkel and Barkai2018) addressed the dissonance between the alleged ‘stasis’ of the Acheulian handaxe for over one million years and the significant transformations in culture and biology throughout the Lower Palaeolithic period. Most research on this topic suffers from neophilia, the enthusiasm towards what is new and novel. We suggested instead that while persistency was preferred in handaxe manufacture and use, innovation took place at other realms of human behaviour and adaptation, enabled by the stability provided by the familiar mode of adaptation based on the assured performance of the good old handaxe. We highlighted the dependency of Acheulean hominins on megaherbivores for sustaining their energetic needs, and the significance of handaxes in supplying calories by efficiently processing large game. We argued that the pivotal role of the handaxe in Acheulean adaptation accorded it its fixed position in Acheulian technology and culture following human conformity and majority imitation. In short, we proposed that the persistence of the Acheulean handaxe acted as an adaptive mechanism based on preferred cultural conservatism, which allowed and enabled the successful adaptation of Lower Palaeolithic human groups in the Old World for over one million years.

It is true that Acheulean handaxes might have been used to process large animal carcasses other than elephants (for example horse processing at Boxgrove; see Pope & Roberts Reference Pope, Roberts, Gamble and Porr2005). In other cases, carcasses of large mammals such as elephants and horses seem to have been processed without handaxes (e.g. Aureli et al. Reference Aureli, Contardi and Giaccio2015; Gallotti & Peretto Reference Gallotti and Peretto2015; Van Kolfschoten et al. Reference Van Kolfschoten, Buhrs and Verheijen2015). Thus, the alleged elephant-handaxe nexus is not obligatory for every encounter people had with elephants, but depends upon specific circumstances and interactions. Even if certain elephants, in certain situations, were conceived as other-than-human persons that must be treated, processed and consumed with respect, this need not always be the case. This point can be clarified by the case of Ojibwa ontology regarding how objects such as stones can, in certain circumstances, become animate:

Since stones are grammatically animate, I once asked an old man: Are all the stones we see about us here alive? He reflected a long while and then replied, ‘No! But some are’. … Whereas we should never expect a stone to manifest animate properties of any kind under any circumstances, the Ojibwa recognize, a priori, potentialities for animation in certain classes of objects under certain circumstances. … The Ojibwa do not perceive stones, in general, as animate, any more than we do. The crucial test is experience. Is there any personal testimony available? In answer to this question we can say that it is asserted by informants that stones have been seen to move, that some stones manifest other animate properties, and, as we shall see, Flint is represented as a living personage in their mythology. (Hallowell Reference Hallowell and Diamond1960, 24)

More elaborate arguments appear in a wonderful, recently published book describing the lives of stone tools in Gamo hide workers ontology in Ethiopia (Arthur Reference Arthur2018). In the same spirit, a study of the Nayaka hunter-gatherers of southern India reveals their intimate familiarity with each and every elephant sharing the forest with them, while foreign elephants are treated differently and are not expected to demonstrate the norms of appropriate behaviour the Nayaka generally share with the elephants they know so well (Bird-David & Naveh Reference Bird-David and Naveh2008). Thus, I would suggest that the co-occurrence of handaxes and elephants at the same sites, sometimes together with handaxes made of butchered elephant bones, might reflect intimate and purposeful interactions with specific elephants, while other elephants might have been treated differently (in light of such a perspective, see a similar suggestion regarding treating specific individual horses in the Upper Palaeolithic Magdalenian: Birouste Reference Birouste2020).

As handaxes were also used in tasks other than carcass processing, I suggest that Lower Palaeolithic hominins were much less rigid and more practical than presumed. Thus, they manipulated objects in varied ways and contexts, according to changing relationships and interactions. This perspective contradicts neither the general pattern or effectiveness of handaxes in processing large game nor the chronological and geographical association between proboscideans and bifaces. The production and use of bifaces persisted as long as elephants and mammoths were around (Ben-Dor et al. Reference Ben-Dor, Gopher, Hershkovitz and Barkai2011; Potts et al. Reference Potts, Behrensmeyer and Faith2018), while after their disappearance, new stone tool technologies and modes of adaptation were introduced (Barkai et al. Reference Barkai, Rosell, Blasco and Gopher2017; Blasco et al. Reference Blasco, Rosell, Sánchez-Marco, Gopher and Barkai2019a,Reference Blasco, Rosell, Arilla, Margalida, Villalba, Gopher and Barkaib; Venditti et al. Reference Venditti, Cesaro, Parush, Gopher and Barkai2019b).

Early humans not only consumed elephant fat and meat but also broke up elephant bones and extracted bone marrow, particularly from limb bones (Boschian et al. Reference Boschian, Caramella, Saccà and Barkai2019). Acheulean early humans sometimes also used elephant bones beyond their immediate nutritional benefit, in manufacturing artefacts that closely resemble the iconic Acheulean stone handaxe (Zutovski & Barkai Reference Zutovski and Barkai2016). Although Lower Palaeolithic Acheulean bone handaxes appear across a wide geographical range, they are a small-scale phenomenon. Bone bifaces were manufactured very similarly to the iconic stone handaxe and following shared elements of design and dexterity (Costa Reference Costa, Lycett and Chauhan2010).

Acheulean bone bifaces were mostly produced from elephant bones (Figs 34). All eight archaeological sites analysed (Zutovski & Barkai Reference Zutovski and Barkai2016) contained many skeletal elements of other large herbivores, on top of the proboscidean bones available at those sites. Nonetheless, only a single handaxe was shaped from the bones of other taxa than elephants. Moreover, bone handaxes were found only at sites also containing handaxes made of stone (Zutovski & Barkai Reference Zutovski and Barkai2016). The striking similarity between handaxes made of the butchered elephant bones and the stone handaxes that were most probably used in the butchery of these elephants is striking. We have suggested the use of the butchered elephant bones for shaping replicas of the stone handaxes served as an expression of early Acheulean humans’ sense of dissonance at consuming these majestic animals with which they shared the world, and perhaps also an ontological act of ensuring the continuation of this Acheulean mode of existence. I will further argue that butchered elephant bones were purposely selected to allow early humans to ‘become elephants’ and to maintain the special relationship between the species, much in accordance with the arguments presented in Tanner (Reference Tanner2014) and similarly to the way indigenous groups practised—or practise—their ontology about the animals they depend upon. It is of note that Sano et al. (Reference Sano, Beyene and Katoh2020) provide the first unequivocal evidence for the use of a 1.4 million-year-old bone handaxe from Konso in carcass processing. I suggest that this important discovery further supports a dual functional and perceptual role for these items: use of a biface does not negate a complementary role in signifying the relationships of early humans with the megafauna who sustained them and with the cosmos in general. Moreover, the occasional use of an exceptional handaxe produced from megafauna bone does not preclude any symbolic meaning. The same holds, by the way, for the stone handaxes. Given the abundance of suitable stones at Konso, the decision to transform a bone flake into a handaxe, despite stone's better workability and efficiency in butchery, testifies to an exceptional, conscious act—an act of reverence that sheds light not only on the technological sophistication of the Acheuleans, but also on their perception of the world.

Figure 3. An elephant bone handaxe from Fontana Ranuccio, Italy. (Courtesy of Margherita Mussi.)

Figure 4. Elephant bone handaxe from Castel di Guido, Italy. (Courtesy of Giovanni Boschian.)

Ontological and cosmological theories of the world among indigenous hunter-gatherers

Anthropological and archaeological thinking regarding the relations between indigenous groups and the world in which they live suggests that past and present hunter-gatherers were not simply exploiting natural resources. These societies view the world as composed of other-than-human persons potentially capable of thinking, feeling and decision-making. In this unique and complex view, multiple worlds might exist in parallel: a world of humans, a world of animals, a world of stone, a world of mountains, a world of rivers, and so on. The human world is just one of many, and humans are expected to live side-by-side with the other entities, maintain good relations with them and pay them respect in order to ensure world order and well-being (e.g. Alberti Reference Alberti2016; Betts et al. Reference Betts, Hardenberg and Stirling2015; Boyd Reference Boyd2017; Hill Reference Hill2011; Reference Hill2013; A. Jones Reference Jones2017; Kohn Reference Kohn2015; Loring Reference Loring1996; Nadasdy Reference Nadasdy2007; Tanner Reference Tanner2014; Viveiros de Castro Reference Viveiros de Castro1998).

This worldview had an important expression in the seeming duality of humans perceiving animals both as other-than-human persons and equal co-habitants of a shared habitat while also hunting and consuming these animal-persons (Barkai Reference Barkai, Lavi and Friesem2019; Nadasdy Reference Nadasdy2007; Tanner Reference Tanner2014; Willerslev Reference Willerslev2013). The debate regarding human universals (Antweiler Reference Antweiler2016; Brown Reference Brown1991; Reference Brown2004) is beyond the scope of this paper. While scholars highlight the diversity in hunter-gatherers’ lifeways which is caused mostly by specific ecological adaptations (e.g. Fisher Reference Fisher2020; Hitchcock Reference Hitchcock2019) and/or contact with what Henrich et al. (Reference Henrich, Heine and Norenzayan2010) call WEIRD societies, it can be argued that certain commonalities do characterize the indigenous mode of existence, or what Barnard (Reference Barnard2002) had termed ‘The foraging mode of thought’. These might include core-values such as sharing, self-provisioning, personal autonomy, egalitarianism and animistic ontology which are expressed by behavioural phenomena such as singing, dancing, fire-side storytelling, communicating with the cosmos via altered states of conciseness, craving for meat and fat and close encounters with animals and plants (e.g. Dyble et al. Reference Dyble, Thompson and Smith2016; Lavi & Friesem Reference Lavi and Friesem2019; Lee Reference Lee2006). In my view, these communalities are shared to some extent by past and present hunting societies, and specifically their reciprocal relationship with the game animals they are dependent upon. Such relationships are reflected in activities both mundane and sacred.

A recurrent idea in many recent indigenous societies is that prey animals willingly make themselves available to humans only if the hunters demonstrate appropriate behaviour towards them. In return, humans are obliged to treat the hunted animal with respect, waste nothing of the carcass, and follow strict customs regarding the use and disposal of the inedible remains:

A central attribute in the conduct of hunting is that game animals are persons and that they must be respected. The rules of respect after the killing involve essentially taking care of all elements of the carcass, and not allowing anything to be thoughtlessly discarded. Thus blood and intestines are consumed, buried in the snow, or fed to the dogs; bones are made into tools, hung in the trees, put on bone platforms, or put in a lake, and all uneaten meat is fed to the dogs or put in the fire. (Tanner Reference Tanner2014, 202)

And Tanner goes even further:

The more commonly held belief is that the inedible remains continue to be part of the species as a whole, and their proper treatment is a way of avoiding giving offence to the master of the species in question, thus enabling hunting to continue. (Tanner Reference Tanner2014, 261)

I suggest that these traits of the ontological relationships between hunters and their prey should be sought in prehistoric archaeological assemblages of all chronologies and might be reflected in the extensive exploitation of animal carcasses at archaeological sites (e.g. Barkai et al. Reference Barkai, Rosell, Blasco and Gopher2017; Blasco et al. Reference Blasco, Rosell, Sánchez-Marco, Gopher and Barkai2019a,Reference Blasco, Rosell, Arilla, Margalida, Villalba, Gopher and Barkaib), in the shaping of selected inedible animal parts into tools (Barkai Reference Barkai, Lavi and Friesem2019; Blasco et al. Reference Blasco, Rosell, Cuartero, Peris, Gopher and Barkai2013; Zutovski & Barkai Reference Zutovski and Barkai2016), the use of inedible animal body parts in certain activities (Conneller Reference Conneller2004) and the insertion of animal bones in rock cracks at decorated caves (Clottes Reference Clottes, Renfrew and Morley2009; Garate et al. Reference Garate, Labarge, Rivero, Intxaurbe, Barshay-Szmidt and Normand2019). I would not expect this to be the case at every archaeological site where humans interacted with animals, and much of the evidence of such an ontological stance might have not been preserved. However, I am confident that the body of evidence will grow if archaeologists will be more open to the possibility of unearthing it. Then, common terms such as ‘ritual’, ‘symbolism’, ‘ceremony’, ‘deposits’, ‘art’ and ‘ornaments’ might be better understood within this ontological framework, as part of the complex human–animal relationships. The anthropocentric worldview so characteristic of WEIRD societies would best be discarded and replaced with a more cosmos-centric approach that better lends itself to reconstructing past human engagements with the world (in the spirit of the work of Lucero Reference Lucero2018).

To please the elephant: concluding remarks

The relationships between hunters and the animals they share the world with (but also hunt, kill and consume) are often reflected by hunters identifying themselves with the hunted animal, being ‘transformed’ into an animal during the hunt and often adopting the hunted animal's perspective and even sharing its feelings and emotions (e.g. Guenther Reference Guenther2015; Lewis-Williams & Biesele Reference Lewis-Williams and Biesele1978; Russell Reference Russell2017). Hunters commonly make use of all parts of the prey, after the edible parts have been consumed, in order to manufacture items such as hunting gear, pendants, clothing and footwear, and amulets. They even sometimes conceal selected animal body parts on their body during the hunt (e.g. Betts et al. Reference Betts, Blair and Black2012; McNiven & Feldman Reference McNiven and Feldman2003; Russell Reference Russell2017; Živaljević Reference Živaljević2015). This behaviour is not only an outcome of practical necessity but is also a token of appreciation towards the animals and a mechanism aimed at both showing respect and perpetuating the significant relationships people had with these animals.

The ‘nothing is wasted’ concept is another facet of hunter–hunted relationships aimed at pleasing the animals (Burnham Reference Burnham1992; Loring Reference Loring1996). The selection and use of an animal body parts is far from accidental and not directed solely by practical or technical considerations. As many have argued, it is an expression of the hunters’ obligation to respect their prey (e.g. Tanner Reference Tanner2014). The intimate physical contact between the hunters and the item made from the hunted animal allows the former access to the animal's perspective and to ‘transform’ into the animal during the hunt and during carcass processing and consumption. They are thus granted the skills and strength of the respective animal, effectively enabling the hunters to ‘become’ their prey. This perspective was beautifully demonstrated in a reconstruction of the role of deer ‘masks’ in Mesolithic Britain: the masks were suggested not to comprise ‘practical’ elements used in the hunt or ‘symbolic’ elements with no clear explanation, but rather to consist of purposefully selected deer body-parts that enabled the hunters to transform into a deer (Conneller Reference Conneller2004).

In this paper I have argued that early humans shared the world with large herbivores, depended on fat and meat for their successful adaptation and well-being, and had special relationships with the animals they depended upon. Elephants are a salient example, as some proboscideans were viewed at the same time as other-than-human persons and an essential and significant source of calories. But this special relationship extended to all other prey animals as well, each taxon with its own special qualities and the specific tool-kit oriented towards its processing and appreciation.

Humans were repeatedly preoccupied by the procurement, exploitation and appreciation of elephants and other large herbivores. Thus, hunting and carcass processing were central practices in human life, well embedded in both practical and ontological adaptation strategies. I therefore suggest that specific technologies were associated with specific animal taxa, or a combination thereof, first for practical and then also for perceptual reasons, and that these relationships lasted as long as these animal taxa existed and supported human adaptation. I further argue that the dependency of human groups on specific animal taxa was a driving force behind the development of appropriate and specific technologies and tool-kits oriented towards both successful hunting and processing as well as respecting and maintaining good relationships with these animals. In this regard, the changing representations of animal taxa, and more specifically the decline in availability of large animals throughout the Pleistocene, led human groups to change their tool-kits accordingly in order to fit the practical and ontological necessities of consuming and appreciating different animal taxa. This approach might explain technological changes such as the replacement of handaxes by Levallois, to be replaced later by systematic blade production, once viewed through the lenses of the changes in animal taxa available to humans (as proboscideans were replaced by horses and cattle, which were later replaced by deer, and so on) and the possible relationships humans maintained with the specific animal taxa they were dependent upon. These factors might have led to the anchoring of specific technological adaptations as mediators, both practical and perceptual, between humans and pivotal animal taxa, as in our case of the elephant in the handaxe.

References

Agam, A. & Barkai, R., 2016. Not the brain alone: the nutritional potential of elephant heads in Paleolithic sites. Quaternary International 406, 218–26.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Agam, A. & Barkai, R., 2018. Elephant and mammoth hunting during the Paleolithic: a review of the relevant archaeological, ethnographic and ethno-historical records. Quaternary 1(1), 3.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Agam, A., Marder, O. & Barkai, R., 2015. Small flake production and lithic recycling at Late Acheulean Revadim, Israel. Quaternary International 361, 4660.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Alberti, B., 2016. Archaeologies of ontology. Annual Review of Anthropology 45, 163–79.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Aiello, L.C. & Wheeler, P., 1995. The expensive-tissue hypothesis: the brain and the digestive system in human and primate evolution. Current Anthropology 36(2), 199221.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Antweiler, C., 2016. Our Common Denominator: Human universals revisited. Oxford/New York: Berghahn.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Arthur, K.W. 2018. The Lives of Stone Tools: Crafting the status, skill, and identity of flintknappers. Tucson (AZ): University of Arizona Press.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Aureli, D., Contardi, A., Giaccio, B., et al. , 2015. Palaeoloxodon and human interaction: depositional setting, chronology and archaeology at the Middle Pleistocene Ficoncella site (Tarquinia, Italy). PLoS One 10(4), e0124498.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Barkai, R., 2019. An elephant to share: rethinking the origins of meat and fat sharing in Paleolithic societies, in Towards a Broader View of Hunter Gatherer Sharing, eds Lavi, N. & Friesem, D.E.. Cambridge: McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research, 153–67.Google Scholar
Barkai, R., Rosell, J., Blasco, R. & Gopher, A. 2017. Fire for a reason: barbecue at middle Pleistocene Qesem cave, Israel. Current Anthropology 58(S16), S314S328.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Barnard, A., 2002. The foraging mode of thought. Senri Ethnological Studies 60, 524.Google Scholar
Ben-Dor, M. & Barkai, R., 2020. The importance of large prey animals during the Pleistocene and the implications of their extinction on the use of dietary ethnographic analogies. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 59, 101192.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Ben-Dor, M. & Barkai, R., in press. Supersize does matter: the importance of large prey in Paleolithic subsistence and a method for measurement of its significance, in zooarchaeological assemblages, in Human–Elephant Interactions: From past to present, eds Konidaris, G., Barkai, R., Tourloukis, V. & Harvati, K.. Tübingen: Tübingen University Press.Google Scholar
Ben-Dor, M., Gopher, A., Hershkovitz, I. & Barkai, R., 2011. Man the fat hunter: the demise of Homo erectus and the emergence of a new hominin lineage in the Middle Pleistocene (ca. 400 kyr) Levant. PLoS One 6(12): e28689.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Ben-Dor, M., Gopher, A. & Barkai, R., 2016. Neandertals’ large lower thorax may represent adaptation to high protein diet. American Journal of Physical Anthropology 160(3), 367–78.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Betts, M.W., Blair, S.E. & Black, D.W., 2012. Perspectivism, mortuary symbolism, and human-shark relationships on the Maritime Peninsula. American Antiquity 77(4), 621–45.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Betts, M.W., Hardenberg, M. & Stirling, I., 2015. How animals create human history: relational ecology and the Dorset–polar bear connection. American Antiquity 80(1), 89112.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Biesele, M., 1993. Women Like Meat: The folklore and foraging ideology of the Kalahari Ju/’Hoan. Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press.Google Scholar
Bird-David, N. & Naveh, D., 2008. Relational epistemology, immediacy, and conservation: or, what do the Nayaka try to conserve? Journal for the Study of Religion, Nature and Culture 2(1), 5573.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Birouste, C., 2020. Human and animal individuals in the Middle Magdalenian. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 27, 607–30.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Blasco, R., Rosell, J., Arilla, M., Margalida, A., Villalba, D., Gopher, A. & Barkai, R., 2019b. Bone marrow storage and delayed consumption at Middle Pleistocene Qesem Cave, Israel (420 to 200 ka). Science Advances 5(10), eaav9822.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Blasco, R., Rosell, J., Cuartero, F., Peris, J.F., Gopher, A. & Barkai, R., 2013. Using bones to shape stones: MIS 9 bone retouchers at both edges of the Mediterranean Sea. PLoS One 8(10), e76780.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Blasco, R., Rosell, J., Sánchez-Marco, A., Gopher, A. & Barkai, R., 2019a. Feathers and food: human-bird interactions at Middle Pleistocene Qesem Cave, Israel. Journal of Human Evolution 136, 102653.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Bocherens, H., 2009. Neanderthal dietary habits: review of the isotopic evidence, in Evolution of Hominin Diets, eds Hublin, J.J. & Richards, M.P.. Heidelberg: Springer, 241–50.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Bocherens, H., 2011. Diet and ecology of Neanderthals: implications from C and N isotopes, in Neanderthal Lifeways: Subsistence and technology, eds Conard, N.J. & Richter, J.. Tübingen: Springer, 7385.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Bocherens, H., in press. Isotopic insights on the ecological interactions between humans and woolly mammoths during the Middle and Upper Palaeolithic in Europe, in Human–Elephant Interactions: From past to present, eds Konidaris, G., Barkai, R., Tourloukis, V. & Harvati, K.. Tübingen: Tübingen University Press.Google Scholar
Boschian, G., Caramella, D., Saccà, D. & Barkai, R., 2019. Are there marrow cavities in Pleistocene elephant limb bones, and was marrow available to early humans? New CT scan results from the site of Castel di Guido (Italy). Quaternary Science Reviews 215, 8697.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Boyd, B., 2017. Archaeology and human-animal relations: thinking through anthropocentrism. Annual Review of Anthropology 46, 299316.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Braun, I.M. & Palombo, M.R., 2012. Mammuthus primigenius in the cave and portable art: an overview with a short account on the elephant fossil record in Southern Europe during the last glacial. Quaternary International 276, 6176.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Brown, D.E., 1991. Human Universals. New York (NY): McGraw Hill.Google Scholar
Brown, D. E., 2004. Human universals, human nature & human culture. Daedalus 133(4), 4754.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Bunn, H.T., 2006. Meat made us human, in Evolution of the Human Diet: The known, the unknown, and the unknowable, ed. Ungar, P.. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 191211.Google Scholar
Bunn, H.T., 2019. Large ungulate mortality profiles and ambush hunting by Acheulean-age hominins at Elandsfontein, Western Cape Province, South Africa. Journal of Archaeological Science 107, 4049.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Burnham, D.K., 1992. To Please the Caribou: Painted caribou-skin coats worn by the Naskapi, Montagnais, and Cree hunters of the Quebec-Labrador Peninsula. Seattle (WA): University of Washington Press.Google Scholar
Churchill, S.E., 1993. Weapon technology, prey size selection, and hunting methods in modern hunter-gatherers: implications for hunting in the Palaeolithic and Mesolithic. Archeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association 4(1), 1124.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Clottes, J., 2009. Sticking bones into cracks in the Upper Palaeolithic, in Becoming Human: Innovation in prehistoric material and spiritual culture, eds Renfrew, C. & Morley, I.. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 195211.Google Scholar
Conneller, C., 2004. Becoming deer. Corporeal transformations at Star Carr. Archaeological Dialogues 11(1), 3756.Google Scholar
Costa, A.G., 2010. A geometric morphometric assessment of plan shape in bone and stone Acheulean bifaces from the Middle Pleistocene site of Castel di Guido, Latium, Italy, in New Perspectives on Old Stones, eds Lycett, S.J. & Chauhan, P.R.. New York (NY): Springer, 2341.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Domínguez-Rodrigo, M. & Pickering, T.R., 2017. The meat of the matter: an evolutionary perspective on human carnivory. Azania: Archaeological Research in Africa 52(1), 432.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Domínguez-Rodrigo, M., Serrallonga, J., Juan-Tresserras, J., Alcala, L. & Luque, L., 2001. Woodworking activities by early humans: a plant residue analysis on Acheulian stone tools from Peninj (Tanzania). Journal of Human Evolution 40, 289–99.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Dyble, M., Thompson, J., Smith, D., et al. , 2016. Networks of food sharing reveal the functional significance of multilevel sociality in two hunter-gatherer groups. Current Biology 26(15), 2017–21.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Faith, J.T., Rowan, J., Du, A. & Koch, P.L., 2018. Plio-Pleistocene decline of African megaherbivores: no evidence for ancient hominin impacts. Science 362(6417), 938–41.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Finkel, M. & Barkai, R., 2018. The Acheulean handaxe technological persistence – lack of innovation or a case of preferred conservatism? Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society 84, 119.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Fisher, J.L., 2020. Diversity of forager lifeways in the prehistoric past. Antiquity 94, 533–35.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Friedman, M., 1996. Nutritional value of proteins from different food sources. A review. Journal of Agricultural Food Chemistry 44, 629.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Gallotti, R. & Peretto, C., 2015. The Lower/early Middle Pleistocene small débitage productions in western Europe: new data from Isernia La Pineta t. 3c (Upper Volturno Basin, Italy). Quaternary International 357, 264–81.Google Scholar
Garate, D., Labarge, A., Rivero, O., Intxaurbe, I., Barshay-Szmidt, C. & Normand, C., 2019. Another bone in the wall: towards a characterisation of the objects placed in wall fissures at Isturitz cave (Pyrénées-Atlantiques, France). Archaeological and Anthropological Sciences 11(12), 6875–87.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Gaudzinski, S., Turner, E., Anzidei, A.P., et al. , 2005. The use of Proboscidean remains in every-day Palaeolithic life. Quaternary International 126, 179–94.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Givens, D.I., Kliem, K.E. & Gibbs, R.A., 2006. The role of meat as a source of n-3 polyunsaturated fatty acids in the human diet. Meat Science 74(1), 209–18.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Goren-Inbar, N., Alperson-Afil, N., Sharon, G. & Herzlinger, G., 2018. The Acheulian Site of Gesher Benot Ya‘aqov Volume IV: The Lithic Assemblages. Heidelberg: Springer.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Guenther, M., 2015. ‘Therefore their parts resemble humans, for they feel that they are people’. Ontological flux in San myth, cosmology and belief. Hunter Gatherer Research 1(3), 277315.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Guil-Guerrero, J.L., Tikhonov, A., Rodríguez-García, I., Protopopov, A., Grigoriev, S. & Ramos-Bueno, R.P., 2014. The fat from frozen mammals reveals sources of essential fatty acids suitable for Palaeolithic and Neolithic humans. PLoS One 9(1), e84480.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Guil-Guerrero, J.L., Tikhonov, A., Ramos-Bueno, R.P., Grigoriev, S., Protopopov, A., Savvinov, G. & González-Fernández, M.J., 2018. Mammoth resources for hominins: from omega-3 fatty acids to cultural objects. Journal of Quaternary Science 33(4), 455–63.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Hallowell, A.I., 1960. Ojibwa ontology behavior, and world view, in Culture in History: Essays in honor of Paul Radin, ed. Diamond, S.. New York (NY): Columbia University Press, 1952.Google Scholar
Hardy, K., Brand-Miller, J., Brown, K.D., Thomas, M.G. & Copeland, L., 2015. The importance of dietary carbohydrate in human evolution. Quarterly Review of Biology 90(3), 251–68.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Hardy, B.L., Moncel, M.H., Despriée, J., Courcimault, G. & Voinchet, P., 2018. Middle Pleistocene hominin behavior at the 700ka Acheulean site of la Noira (France). Quaternary Science Reviews 199, 6082.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Henrich, J., Heine, S.J. & Norenzayan, A., 2010. The weirdest people in the world? Behavioral and Brain Sciences 33(2–3), 6183.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Hill, E., 2011. Animals as agents: hunting ritual and relational ontologies in prehistoric Alaska and Chukotka. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 21(3), 407–26.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Hill, E., 2013. Archaeology and animal persons: toward a prehistory of human-animal relations. Environment and Society: Advances in Research 4, 117–36.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Hitchcock, R.K., 2019. Hunters and gatherers past and present: perspectives on diversity, teaching, and information transmission. Reviews in Anthropology 48(1), 537.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Hussain, S.T. & Floss, H., 2015. Sharing the world with mammoths, cave lions and other beings: linking animal-human interactions and the Aurignacian ‘belief world’. Quartär 62, 85120.Google Scholar
Jones, P.R., 1980. Experimental butchery with modern stone tools and its relevance for Palaeolithic archaeology. World Archaeology 12, 153–65.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Jones, P.R., 1981. Experimental implement manufacture and use; a case study from Olduvai Gorge, Tanzania. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society of London B: Biological Sciences 292(1057), 189–95.Google Scholar
Jones, A.M., 2017. Rock art and ontology. Annual Review of Anthropology 46, 167–81.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Keeley, L.H., 1980. Experimental Determination of Stone Tool Uses: A microwear analysis. Chicago (IL): University of Chicago Press.Google Scholar
Key, A.J.M. & Lycett, S.J., 2015. Edge angle as a variably influential factor in flake cutting efficiency: an experimental investigation of its relationship with tool size and loading. Archaeometry 57, 911–27.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Key, A.J.M. & Lycett, S.J., 2017. Influence of handaxe size and shape on cutting efficiency: a large-scale experiment and morphometric analysis. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory 24(2), 514–41.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kimmerer, R.W., 2018. Mishkos Kenomagwen, the lessons of grass: restoring reciprocity with the good green earth, in Traditional Ecological Knowledge: Learning from indigenous practices for environmental sustainability, eds Nelson, M. & Shilling, D.. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2756.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Kohn, E., 2015. Anthropology of ontologies. Annual Review of Anthropology 44, 311–32.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Lavi, N. & Friesem, D.E. (eds), 2019. Towards a Broader View of Hunter Gatherer Sharing. Cambridge: McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research.Google Scholar
Lee, R.B., 2006. Commonalities and diversities in contemporary hunter-gatherers: from settlement archaeology to development ethnography. Archeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association 16(1), 157–69.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Lev, M. & Barkai, R., 2016. Elephants are people, people are elephants: elephant food taboos as a case for cross-cultural animal humanization in recent and Paleolithic times. Quaternary International 406(2), 239–45.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Lewis, J.D., 2015. Where goods are free but knowledge costs: hunter-gatherer ritual economics in Western Central Africa. Hunter-Gatherer Research 1(1), 127.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Lewis-Williams, J.D. & Biesele, M., 1978. Eland hunting rituals among northern and southern San groups: striking similarities. Africa 48(2), 117–34.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Loring, S., 1996. To please the animal master: the Innu hunting way of life. Tribal College 7(4), 2023.Google Scholar
Lucero, L.J., 2018. A cosmology of conservation in the ancient Maya world. Journal of Anthropological Research 74(3), 327–59.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Lycett, S.J. & Gowlett, J.A.J., 2008. On questions surrounding the Acheulean ‘tradition’. World Archaeology 403, 295315.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Machin, A., Robert, J., Hosfield, T. & Mithen, S., 2007. Why are some handaxes symmetrical? Testing the influence of handaxe morphology on butchery effectiveness. Journal of Archaeological Science 34(6), 883–93.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
McNiven, I.J. & Feldman, R., 2003. Ritually orchestrated seascapes: hunting magic and dugong bone mounds in Torres Strait, NE Australia. Cambridge Archaeological Journal 13(2), 169–94.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Mitchell, J.C., 1996. Studying biface utilisation at Boxgrove: roe deer butchery with replica handaxes. Lithics 16, 64–9.Google Scholar
Morin, E., 2020. Rethinking the emergence of bone grease procurement. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 59, 101178.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Nadasdy, P., 2007. The gift in the animal: the ontology of hunting and human–animal sociality. American Ethnologist 34(1), 2543.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Outram, A., 2002. Bone fracture and within-bone nutrients: an experimentally based method for investigating levels of marrow extraction, in Consuming Passions and Patterns of Consumption, eds Miracle, P. & Milner, N.. Cambridge: McDonald Institute for Archeological Research, 5163.Google Scholar
Pobiner, B.L., Rogers, M.J., Monahan, C.M. & Harris, J.W., 2008. New evidence for hominin carcass processing strategies at 1.5 Ma, Koobi Fora, Kenya. Journal of Human Evolution 55(1), 103–30.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Pope, M. & Roberts, M., 2005. Observations on the relationship between Palaeolithic individuals and artefact scatters at the Middle Pleistocene site of Boxgrove, UK, in The Individual Hominid in Context: Archaeological investigations of Lower and Middle Palaeolithic landscapes, locales and artefacts, eds Gamble, C. & Porr, M.. London: Routledge, 8197.Google Scholar
Potts, R., Behrensmeyer, A.K, Faith, J.T., et al. , 2018. Environmental dynamics during the onset of the Middle Stone Age in eastern Africa. Science 360(6384), 8690.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Reshef, H. & Barkai, R., 2015. A taste of an elephant: the probable role of elephant meat in Paleolithic diet preferences. Quaternary International 379, 2834.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Russell, T., 2017. ‘People will no longer be people but will have markings and be animals’: investigating connections between diet, myth, ritual and rock art in southern African archaeology. Azania: Archaeological Research in Africa 52(2), 192208.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Sano, K., Beyene, Y., Katoh, S., et al. , 2020. A 1.4-million-year-old bone handaxe from Konso, Ethiopia, shows advanced tool technology in the early Acheulean. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the USA 117, 18393–400.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Smith, F.A., Smith, R.E.E., Lyons, S.K. & Payne, J.L., 2018. Body size downgrading of mammals over the late Quaternary. Science 360(6386), 310–13.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Solodenko, N., Zupancich, A., Cesaro, S.N., Marder, O., Lemorini, C. & Barkai, R., 2015. Fat residue and use-wear found on Acheulian biface and scraper associated with butchered elephant remains at the site of Revadim, Israel. PloS One 10(3), e0118572.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Speth, J.D., 2020. Paleoindian bison hunting on the North American Great Plains – two critical nutritional constraints. PaleoAnthropology 74, 97.Google Scholar
Tanner, A., 2014. Bringing Home Animals: Mistissini hunters of Northern Quebec. St Johns: ISER Books.Google Scholar
Van Kolfschoten, T., Buhrs, E. & Verheijen, I., 2015. The larger mammal fauna from the Lower Paleolithic Schöningen Spear site and its contribution to hominin subsistence. Journal of Human Evolution 89, 138–53.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Venditti, F., Cristiani, E., Nunziante-Cesaro, S., Agam, A., Lemorini, C. & Barkai, R., 2019a. Animal residues found on tiny Lower Paleolithic tools reveal their use in butchery. Scientific Reports 9(1), 114.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Venditti, F., Cesaro, S.N., Parush, Y., Gopher, A. & Barkai, R., 2019b. Recycling for a purpose in the late Lower Paleolithic Levant: use-wear and residue analyses of small sharp flint items indicate a planned and integrated subsistence behavior at Qesem Cave (Israel). Journal of Human Evolution 131, 109–28.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Viveiros de Castro, E., 1998. Cosmological deixis and Amerindian perspectivism. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 4(3), 469–88.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Werdelin, L. & Lewis, M.E., 2013. Temporal change in functional richness and evenness in the eastern African Plio-Pleistocene carnivoran guild. PLoS One 8(3), e57944.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Willerslev, R., 2013. Taking animism seriously, but perhaps not too seriously? Religion and Society 4(1), 4157.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Zink, K.D. & Lieberman, D.E., 2016. Impact of meat and Lower Palaeolithic food processing techniques on chewing in humans. Nature 531, 500503.CrossRefGoogle ScholarPubMed
Živaljević, I., 2015. Concepts of the body and personhood in the Mesolithic-Neolithic Danube gorges: interpreting animal remains from human burials. Issues in Ethnology and Anthropology 10, 675–99.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Zupancich, A., Solodenko, N., Rosenberg-Yefet, T. & Barkai, R., 2018. On the function of Late Acheulean stone tools: new data from three specific archaeological contexts at the Lower Palaeolithic site of Revadim, Israel. Lithic Technology 43, 255–68.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Zutovski, K. & Barkai, R., 2016. The use of elephant bones for making Acheulian handaxes: a fresh look at old bones. Quaternary International 406, 227–38.CrossRefGoogle Scholar
Figure 0

Figure 1. A handaxe from late Acheulean Revadim, Israel.

Figure 1

Figure 2. A replica of a flint handaxe used in experimentation of deer butchery. (Courtesy of Ruth Blasco and Jordi Rosell.)

Figure 2

Figure 3. An elephant bone handaxe from Fontana Ranuccio, Italy. (Courtesy of Margherita Mussi.)

Figure 3

Figure 4. Elephant bone handaxe from Castel di Guido, Italy. (Courtesy of Giovanni Boschian.)