Around 45,000 years ago, during the frigid depths of the last Ice Age, a new wave of humans pushed into Europe from the southeast. But this continent wasn’t empty — it was already home to the Neanderthals, a distinct branch of the human family tree. For roughly 5,000 years, these two human populations coexisted. They shared the same harsh landscapes — and sometimes, even their genes. That genetic legacy endures: today, nearly all non-African populations carry 2–3% Neanderthal DNA.
Yet, these earliest modern Europeans remained a mystery. Who were they? How did they live? And why did their genetic line vanish? A groundbreaking scientific study is now providing some long-awaited answers.
Fossil Clues from Germany and the Czech Republic
In a cave in Thuringia, Germany — known as Ranis — researchers unearthed exceptionally fragile human bones, including remains of infants. Dating estimates place them between 42,000 and 49,000 years old. Among the remains, scientists identified a mother and child pair.
Further east, in the Czech Republic, archaeologists had previously discovered a woman’s skull in Zlatý kůň Cave. Though separated by hundreds of kilometers, the two sites were long thought unrelated.
However, ancient DNA analysis revealed an unexpected connection: the woman from the Czech Republic and two individuals from Ranis were fifth- or sixth-degree relatives — something like distant cousins.
This discovery suggests they weren’t isolated nomads but part of a much wider population spread across vast regions of prehistoric Europe.
Stone Tools Speak Volumes
Ranis Cave has long intrigued archaeologists for its distinctive stone tools, known as LRJ (Lincombian–Ranisian–Jerzmanowician) industries. For decades, scholars debated: were these tools the handiwork of Neanderthals or the first modern humans?
The answer lay buried alongside the tools themselves. DNA evidence made it clear: these tools were crafted by early modern humans. Given that the woman from Zlatý kůň belonged to the same population, it’s likely she too used — or at least knew of — these tools, even though none were found with her remains.
A Lost Branch of Humanity
Among the Ranis skeletons, one individual — dubbed “Ranis13” — yielded DNA so well-preserved that scientists reconstructed his entire genome in remarkable detail.
The results were surprising: like the woman from Zlatý kůň, Ranis13 left no surviving descendants. Their genetic line did not persist in any present-day population.
They were not completely unrelated to us, though — their DNA carries the same ancient Neanderthal inheritance found in all non-Africans today. But unlike other humans of the same era, they show no signs of later interbreeding with Neanderthals. Perhaps they took a different migration route into Europe — or simply never crossed paths with Neanderthals again.
How Many Were There? And What Did They Look Like?
By analyzing shared genetic traits, researchers estimate this population consisted of only a few hundred people, scattered across a wide area.
They were few in number, living in a harsh and unforgiving environment. Cold, scarce resources, and competition with long-established Neanderthals made their survival precarious.
As for their appearance? Their DNA suggests they had dark skin, dark hair, and brown eyes — features typical of people with recent African ancestry, which they indeed had.
“These findings give us a clearer window into the very first pioneers who reached Europe,” said Professor Johannes Krause, a lead researcher on the study.
A Fleeting Chapter, A Lasting Legacy
This lost human lineage did not become our direct ancestors. Yet they were human, just like us. Their passage through history was brief, but their story — preserved in bone and stone — survives as a testament to an attempt, a migration, a connection that ultimately vanished.