Racing the Suns (The Hunter and Wanderer)

by Karen Pepin

  10

  I slept fitfully that night, waking often, thinking I heard something prowling towards me. An odd rumbling, roaring sound startled me in the middle of the night. By morning, I was tired and tense. When it was bright enough to see well, I tucked my walking staff under my sore armpit and followed the strange sound to its source, the gully. Frothing, muddy water rushed through the ravine with breakneck speed, filling it over halfway up the rock wall. I shuddered. If I hadn't gotten out when I had, I would never have made it out at all. A prayer of thanks to the Wanderer flew from my lips.

  "Blessings to the Wanderer. May my feet always follow His path and keep me safe from all harm."

  As I stared at the water, I realized I had a new problem. The clan had been on the other side of the gully, heading south from there. But, I was trapped on this side. A low cry slipped out before I could stifle it. How would I reach them in time? I would give anything to see Davin again. Or have mother's arms around me. I would even be a better sister to Lasa if I could just reach them. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  "I'm alive. I'm safe," I told myself. "I will return to them."

  I decided that if I followed the now raging river, it would lead to the ocean eventually. It would provide me with water and hopefully lure some game within reach. I wished I had managed to climb up on the other side of the gully when I escaped. I wasn't sure how far out of my way following this stream would take me before I reached the Great Divide, but at this point, I had no choice. There was nowhere safe to cross. I would have to keep going.

  Foraging as I hobbled along gave me both food and much needed breaks to rest. Following the water, I found edible plants daily, enough to keep me going even if it did not fill my grumbling stomach. The walking stick rubbed and bruised the underside of my arm. As soon as I caught some game, I would line part of it with fur to make it more comfortable.

  I craved meat, but wasn't sure how I would catch any. My skill with the sling was still terrible, although I tried for smaller game with it every chance I got. I moved steadily and slowly towards the Great Divide following the river. The pain in my head receded after a few days, but my leg still ached, sharp pain flaring up unexpectedly when I moved too jerkily.

  The days blurred as I traveled. The thought of reaching the Divide and my clan drove me to go as fast as I could. Probably faster than I should: I didn't see the young hotar until just before it leapt. My scream of terror blended in with its attack cry. As it dropped down, I stumbled back and raised the shortened spear I had made days before. Too late, I thought with panic. I closed my eyes and waited for the end. A heavy weight knocked me to the ground and landed with a thud beside me. The hotar lay in the dirt, unmoving, with my spear deeply embedded in its side. It died before it could mark me. I heard myself panting harshly in the silence. Only blessed luck had saved me. I was safe. I was safe, I chanted to myself.

  Trembling, I stared at the dead hotar. It was probably only just old enough to have gone off on its own. Even so, it was only a fraction smaller than me. I gave thanks to the Hunter for sparing my life and providing me with meat, a hide, and potential weapons. I could make a sleeping fur to help me keep warm as the nights grew colder by the day. I could make a cushion for my arm on the walking stick so that it didn't hurt so. I glanced around for my walking stick. It lay cracked in half over a rock. It must have broken when I dropped it to raise my spear. Stay focused on the positives: I am alive. I could make another staff. In the meantime, I would crawl.

  I dithered a moment: Butcher the animal or make another walking stick? The scent of blood might bring more predators, so quickly, I slit the throat of the carcass to let it bleed out, cleaned my blade in the stream, and went searching for a new stick. Being able to move was just as important as having meat, even meat as bitter as a hotar's.

  It took some time to find a suitable stick. I worked as quickly as I could, only roughly shaping it for now. The suns were high, shining through the branches above. I needed to butcher the hotar and get moving. Camping near the remains would be unwise. I carefully skinned the beast, not taking too much time to scrape the hide clean. I would do that later wherever I laid camp. I removed as much of the meat as I thought I could carry and wrapped it in the hide. I also removed the larger teeth and the claws to use for blades or spear tips. It was mid-afternoon. I figured I would be able to travel another few fingers of suns' height before I would need to camp.

  Before leaving my unexpected kill site, I thanked the Hunter again, apologizing for leaving some meat behind. I prayed that He would use it to feed his other children and spare me. Then I got moving with my new walking stick tucked securely under my armpit. I leaned carefully and lifted the skin, which was almost too heavy to manage. I had tied the skin of the legs together and made it into a bag that could be carried on my left shoulder. Lastly, I picked up my spear. It had not broken in the attack. I had rinsed it off in the stream after pulling it from the body. I was as ready as I could be.

  I traveled more carefully now, listening for any sounds of bollar and watching the trees closely for any more hotar. Hotar frequently had two or three kits at a time. It was possible that this one’s siblings or parents were nearby. I put distance between myself and the hotar corpse. Finally, I came to an opening in the trees. I left my belongings where I planned to sleep and went about collecting wood.

  By the time night fell, I had cleared the ground and gotten a good fire going, had sticks to last the night, and had hotar meat cooking. I also built a small smoky fire nearby with green wood and placed strips of the meat above it to smoke and cook. Then, I went to work scraping the hide fully clean. Once done, I used several long sticks to support it over the smoke fire. I hoped it would kill or drive out any vermin in the fur. I would have to clean the fur in the stream when I got a chance and could stay camped for a day. The fur also acted as a tent over the smoking meat. I added leaves and black needles to the smoke fire, keeping it small, and ate my meal.

  The meat was as bitter and biting as I remembered, but I didn't care. I ate more than I should, as I had gone too many days lean and needed the fuel, especially if I was going to be carrying more. I couldn't wait to be able to use the hotar fur for a sleeping roll, but then I realized my quandary: I still needed some means of carrying the meat I was smoking. The skin was the only thing I could use as a pack. I wanted to curse. There was nothing for it. I would either have to kill another animal for its skin, or I would have to do without a sleeping fur for some time longer.

  I lay down on the grass, my back to the warm fire, my hand on my spear.

  I woke at suns' cresting. My fire for smoking the meat had gone out. I built up the main fire with the last of my wood and put some meat on to cook for breakfast and nooning that day. I wrapped the rest of the smoked meat in the fur and tied a bundle so it could be carried. I refilled my water bag from the ever-widening stream. As I ate my meal, my thoughts returned to my clan. Did Davin look over his shoulder with hopes of seeing me? Was Mother sleeping through the night? Lasa, was she grateful or feeling guilty? Had they crossed? Were they still at the Gathering preparing their journey. They would have to carry the canoes from the cave to the beach. It would take some time.

  To keep my spirits up, I imagined how everyone's faces would look when I walked into my clan's campsite alive. Mother would fold me in her arms and hold me tight. Lasa would be so glad to see me that she would apologize for every mean thing she had ever done to me. The image of Ta'Bor's disbelieving face made me chuckle.

  Then, I would find Davin again. Undoubtedly, he would have gone with his clan. I'd find him and we would be together once more. The Elders of both clans would tell stories about my journey and about our reunion.

  I finished my meal. Time to go. I was determined to make some distance. Around midday, I noticed the light dimming, turning the air to a gloomy twilight under the trees. Another storm?

  I looked up and saw smaller Anari going behind her larger sister sun, Ah
una. Another eclipse, already? An electric charge tingled through my body. How had so much time passed? Tradition warred with the need to go. Without the Wanderer's goodwill, I would have surely died before now. This eclipse, the first since my fall, should be filled with thanks and contemplation of His plan for me. But, I couldn't afford to dither in place.

  "Thanks be to the Wanderer," I said in a brief yet heartfelt prayer. "May He continue to watch over me and guide me home to my people."

  I hurried on. I had to reach the Great Divide. Was I already too late? Moving as fast as my leg would allow, I pushed myself harder than I had in days.

  It took three days after the eclipse for me to reach the coast. Each day I grew more frantic and frightened, but stronger as well. I came out of the woods onto a high bluff overlooking the Great Divide. I nearly wept with relief seeing its blue-green shallows and white-capped Deeps. I searched down the coast with my eyes looking for the peninsula pointing south into the Divide where we Gathered. Following the river had certainly taken me far west of where I needed to go. I located it east of me on the horizon. With renewed determination, I headed that direction while it was still light.

  Unfortunately, the stream which gave me water, which I had been forced to follow, now blocked my path as it flowed into the sea. I stared at the turbulence in dismay. I couldn't cross it with only one leg, not at the depth and speed it was currently flowing. It took one full day to find a spot where I could climb down to the narrow beach below, but that didn't help. I was still blocked by the stream going into the sea, and I didn't dare try to swim it.

  Perhaps if I made a raft or something that floated to help me cross? But no, there would be more streams meeting the sea. I needed something more—a canoe. One just big enough for me to ride down to the Crossing point. And if, Wanderer forbid, they had left before I arrived, I could make the Crossing myself. The very idea chilled me to my core. The memory of my last crossing loomed in my mind. But if I wanted to reach Davin and my family, I would have to risk crossing the Deeps, monsters or not.

  No matter what, I couldn't stay here. No one could survive in the Northern Lands when the killing cold arrived. I would die if I didn't cross.

  I had never built a canoe on my own, but it wasn't that long ago that I saw Ven'Ta lead our clan in creating one. I was oddly thankful now that Ta'Bor made me carve that paddle. Of course now I didn't have an example to work off of, and would have to rely on my memory.

  I backtracked my path into the woods and met back up with the stream. The flow ran straight down to the sea with the rocky bluff on my side. No falls or rapids broke this stretch. I searched for a suitable fallen tree—one large enough to fit me and my limited gear. I wished I had thought of crafting a water rig sooner. I could have ridden down the stream to the sea instead of struggling along on my leg and makeshift crutch. Of course, the stream had some rocks and rapids along the way, so it may not have been doable. Now, it was.

  I continued inland, scouring the woods near the swift-moving water until I found a large fallen tree. It was far bigger than I needed, but a section was already split in half, which would reduce the time I would have to shape it. The first thing was to burn the piece I wanted free from the rest of the trunk. I made my best guess and marked the area that I wanted for my canoe.

  I hauled wet dirt and clay from the bank of the river with one hand and covered the edges of wood that I wanted to protect. Next, I began a fire underneath to burn it away. While it burned, I tried to peel off the bark, but it would only chip away. Finally, using my spear, I jabbed at the burning section of the tree, breaking off larger pieces. The work was hard and slow and took all day. I guessed I would be at it a few days more, at least. My chest ached at the thought of another delay. I wasn't sure whether I could actually make a canoe that would float, but I had no other options.

  I worked by firelight that night after a hastily eaten meal. I burned the center of the log for a time, then extinguished the burn with water from my water bag. After that, I scraped out the burnt ash and wood with my hotar claw. I repeated the routine, working until exhaustion. The next morning, I began again. I worked for two more days before a canoe and paddle were ready. My little boat was very rough and more shallow than the clan canoes, but I figured that would benefit me. I would have to sit flat inside instead of kneeling, because of my leg. The short trip down the river would tell me what adjustments I would need to make, or if I could even do this.

  Getting the canoe to the water was not as hard as I feared. I used a long branch to lever it loose. Once I got it rolling, it continued until it landed partially in the water. Miracle of miracles, it landed upright as well. I limped over and loaded my meager belongings.

  The ride down the stream was smooth and easy. I had most of the day, so I continued into the shallows of the Great Divide and headed east toward the Gathering spot for a crossing. The shallows were very narrow here, dropping off into the Deeps quite close to shore. Then there was only the Deeps and a cliff wall next to me. I paddled with the swift current. I had to be careful of the waves here. I realized that my little canoe would swamp and sink if it took on too much water. The thought made me jittery, but I would just have to be extra careful. Besides, there were other ways I could sink. I kept a sharp eye on the water while I was over the Deeps.

  I reached the Crossing Point quicker than I imagined I would. I had to paddle farther out as I neared the peninsula, or risk being pushed against the rocks. Once around the point itself, I immediately made for the calm shallows on the other side. I paddled my vessel until it became stuck in the sand. Climbing out of my canoe was awkward with my leg, but I managed, cursing under my breath.

  Using the canoe to balance on one leg, water up to my thighs, I pushed it ashore. I hopped and crawled to the front of the canoe and began pulling it all the way onto shore just far enough up the sand to keep the Divide from reclaiming it. I sat in front of it with my legs wide and pulled it towards me, continuing this way—scooting back from it a bit and pulling it again. It was time-consuming, but spared my aching leg.

  Although I wanted to rest, there was enough daylight left to reach the Gathering clearing and return again before dark if needed. I tucked my walking staff under my arm and added some food to my travel pouch. Everything else, I left in the canoe. I dithered over leaving the bulk of my supplies, but decided that if no clans were still around, which was most likely, I would be able to hobble back more quickly. Then, I would have to prepare for my own Crossing. And if, by the Grace of the Wanderer, my people had not left yet, then my supplies would no longer be so critical.

  Please be there, I prayed. Please. I couldn't help but hope to see Davin's laughing eyes again and quirky grin. Or my mother. Just to hear her soft voice and wise words.

  Approaching the grassy clearing where we Gathered, I heard nothing but the wind. The clearing was empty. Old remains of camp fires showed that the clans had already come and gone. Nothing was left to show that my family or Davin had been here. They were simply gone. Logically, I expected this; emotionally, I had hoped so much that they would be here—that one group might make camp and wait. A sob escaped. I sat on the ground and cried until my eyes and chest hurt. I rocked back and forth with my arms wrapped around me wishing they were Davin's holding me tight. I wailed like a lost child calling for her mother. It was all too much. I just wanted to be with my clan, to be safe, to not be so frightened. Being alone filled me with an overwhelming, unbearable fear.

  After a time, my tears abated. Wrung out, I stood up, balancing on my left foot. I hooked my walking stick under my armpit. Beaten down with grief, I turned to leave the clearing. As I started to hobble away, it occurred to me that there might be a way to let them know I was alive, if I was unable to catch up with them until they were back here next. I crossed the clearing and carefully climbed to the cave where the clan canoes and, more importantly, the clan Gathering ledgers were kept. The suns' light shone enough into the cave that I could see what I ne
eded. Carefully, I carried the top wooden tablet back into the light.

  I traced my fingers over the markings, searching for the ones from my dim memory. Near the middle of the tablet, I found the markings for my name. As I knew they would, they had marked the names of those lost. My name was there. I pulled out my blade and scratched three deliberate lines through the markings. Maybe when they saw this at the next Gathering, they'd realize that I still lived. I hoped I would already be back among the clans by then, if not with my own, then at least with another.

  I returned the tablet to its place, but at the mouth of the cave I paused: What if they didn't notice what I did? I bit my lip. There had to be a way to make them pay closer attention, to know that something had been changed. A light breeze blew a few loose wisps of my hair into my eyes. Automatically, I tucked them behind my ear. Yes! Using my hotar blade, I sliced off a hank of blond hair and placed it on the tablet.

  11

  I returned to my canoe and belongings. There was no sign of them being disturbed. No tracks of predators or game checking them out. Relieved, I made plans for my Crossing in the morning.

  Heavy rains found me that night. I rolled the canoe over and took shelter under it as the deluge put out my campfire. For two days, it rained. In the Great Divide, even a small storm could be deadly. I could not risk crossing until the storms subsided. I had food enough, despite the sour stomach the hotar meat gave me. Huddled under my makeshift shelter, I was uncomfortable, but dry.

  I spent my time daydreaming about finding my clan. Was everyone safe? Nobody could possibly be in the position I was in—alone and alive. I hoped that by the time I reached them, my leg would be better. My favorite daydream was of me striding into the camp. Everyone would be stunned, overjoyed to see me. I would hug my mother tight and tell her that I loved her. Ta'Bor would finally respect me. They all would. We would celebrate. Then, at the next Gathering, I would find Davin and we would be together. He wouldn't have found another mate because he was grieving the loss of me. We would be together and have many strong, brave children. And I'd tell them the story of how I survived. The daydreams renewed my determination to return to my clan.