It is autumn during the middle Neolithic where we find ourselves
within a small family hut somewhere upon the  Plain of Silsbury.

“Finally the harvest is over and I can get down to some hunting with the lads!”

“Where are your nets?”

“Dunno, I think they're somewhere back here.”

“You haven't used them in ages.”

“Found 'em. Oh dear look at the state of them. Something has been
knawing at them.”

“Probably, that rat, you know the one that keeps coming back again,
you know....”

“Yup, and when I catch it! Just look at the holes!”

“Holes? But nets are supposed to have holes!”

“Yes, er no, um, you know what I mean! That rat, that @#'$5#ing rat!”

“Can you repair them?”

“Yup, but not in time for tomorrow. I suppose I will need to get some new ones.”

“Why not try the Rockmonger's down at the henge, he may do nets?”

“Yup, I'll take a bag of grain, and see what he's got.”

A short while later at the henge. Our farmer approaches the stall of
the Rockmonger.

“Good Morning, what can I do you for?”

“Do you do nets?”

“Yes, we do nets, fishing nets, hunting nets, laundry nets, all sort
of nets. What do you want them for?”

“F' Aurochs!”

“Ok. Just a moment.”

[The Rockmonger wanders off and soon returns with some nets.]

“Here you are, one...two...three...four.”

“No! F' Aurochs!”

“They are for rocks!”

“No! F' Aurochs! Not four rocks!”

“Not four rocks?”

“No! F'Aurochs, nets for trapping Aurochs!”