There was a layer of black and white flints bedded in either wall, halfway up, and on the floor were piled stones chosen from it carefully.

I wondered who had handled them, and when.

Erling moved a little aside, and a shaft of sunlight darted down the passage and reached its end, and showed me those who had wrought here.
Two white skeletons sat against the wall, with a pile of flints between them.

There was a lamp hewn from chalk on the top of that, and the stain of its smoky flame was on the wall behind it.

One man had a pick made of the brow tine of an antler, greater than any which the red deer carry nowadays, across his knees, and another like pick lay by the bones of the other skeleton.