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It was a reassuring surprise to see evidence of tourism nearly 400 years old - I always imagined that being a tourist was a peculiarly 20th century activity, born of an idle curiosity and too much leisure. But then, deep in the Grotte de Niaux in the Pyrenean mountains, a place where only inquisitiveness would have drawn visitors 400 years ago, were graffitis and scrawled signatures dating from as early as 1608.

Four centuries seems a long time in a human context, but it is a blink in time when faced with what I had come to see; the Grotte de Niaux contains cave paintings that are thought to be about 12,000 years old.

The name 'grotte' (cave) doesn't really do justice to the three kilometres of rough subterranean tunnels that link the caverns under the Massif of Cap de la Lesse. It is not pot-holing by any means, but the 800 yards of the visit are left deliberately undeveloped and unlit and the numbers of visitors are limited to protect the paintings. Equipped with a miner's lamp you head off along the tunnel, a maximum of 20 led by a single guide.

The walls and floor of the tunnel have been carved into curious shapes by millions of years of water action; underfoot it is patterned like a jig-saw where eddies in the current have become set in stone; up above, the shapes seem faintly anatomical: recesses and smooth knuckles of bone like ball and socket joints; massive stalagtites that hang like windpipes, everywhere a slick, pinkish surface which looks slightly sinewy.

The river is gone for the moment, but the water is still steadily doing its work. There is constant dripping as it filters through the limestone, quietly working to create stalagtites and stalagmites (which themselves look a bit like tendons and gristle) and which are slowly beginning to reappear since they were broken off a century ago. Unfortunately, before the days of tourist shops and miniatures of the Eiffel Tower, it was all the rage to take one home for the mantlepiece.

The signatures are scrawled on the walls the whole length of the tunnel. Ruben de la Vialle came twice, in 1652 and 1660, as did a M. de Fondeyre (1650 and 1661). The earliest visitor to leave a trace was apparently a certain M Cazaubon, whose name appears everywhere, dated 1608; but the man may have been a bit of a joker aswell as a self-publicist, because he seems to have had some suspiciously illustrious companions, Voltaire and Descartes among them, all with oddly similar hand-writing. There are a few idle sketches, including a rude caricature of a Roman legionnaire, but as you advance you begin to see signs of pre-historic painting along the walls.

They begin simply - just a few dots, lines and curious claviforms, which appear in many caves in Europe and are thought perhaps to have had some meaning. They are painted in just two colours: black (manganese oxide mixed into a paste with grease) and red (iron oxide). Eventually you climb up above the bed of the river into the Salon Noir, a cavern about twenty by thirty yards, with a ceiling from which no light returns and just a few vowels re-emerge as echoes. A small bank of machines keeps measurements of the humidity and temperature. The guide extinguishes all the lamps and illuminates the animals in turn.

First there was a deer, quite sketchy, but with a bright, open face, unconcerned, as though he was simply standing at rest. Unfortunately his antlers and part of his back have been erased by dripping water but otherwise he is still strong and clear. Next was a small herd of horses, in various detail: a couple were sketchy runners, almost caricatures, and one was just a head, but there was a particularly lovable, shaggy nag, head lowered and ready for a snooze.

The people who painted these animals were hunters and they knew their prey well. Their favourite subjects were bison, which they painted all around the walls, with a shaggy mane, shoulder and rump. Like the lions, tigers and rhinoceros which have been depicted in other caves, bison were plentiful in Europe 12,000 years ago, though their horns are different from their American counterparts'.

It is almost impossible to imagine what went on in their minds of these artists, but they were skilful and they had a fresh and almost playful touch. Few pictures are detailed, some are shaded or lined, but they are impressively lifelike. They are painted complete or in part - pairs of hooves hang in the air--and in places they are laid almost indiscriminately on top of one another. It is extraordinary that they have been so well preserved - recently a surprise flow of water managed to destroy part of a painting in a matter of hours. They are certainly worth seeing in the original.

My favourite animal was the ibex, which appears in a number of cheeky incarnations throughout the chamber. He seems mostly to be running (he was one of the most hunted) and his curved horns are often detailed with lifelike ribbing. The best of them all is a tiny fellow, hardly visible, a practice sketch probably, with dysfunctionally large and wavy horns. I warmed to him immediately. It seems odd to think of him standing there waiting, for about 12000 years, before so mischeviously defying latterday lightweights and merely curious tourists.

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