She knew that if she could get two or three of them to fly the others would follow. She circled the calf looking for a likely place to attack the flock. The birds were becoming more agitated as she drew nearer. Three of them dropped to the ground and spread their wings and made short hopping attacks at her. She paid them little attention because she knew they wouldn't carry through on the attack. They would only attack an animal that was near death or dead. They were trying to protect their find. The she-wolf spotted a likely looking area where the birds were busy feeding and paying little attention to her. She began barking loudly and snarling as she charged the carcass. The birds started squawking, and then began leaping into the air. The beating of their wings was mingled with angry insults. As most birds do when they are frightened, they voided their bowls and the air was filled with foul smelling slimy rain. The she-wolf had done this sort of thing before and made sure her attack had not carried her into the foul rain. When the area was cleared, she walked around the dead calf looking for a place to feed. She could again detect the scent of the saber tooth that had killed the calf. She sniffed at the deep claw marks on the flanks of the calf and then sank her fangs into the hide at the claw marks. Her sharp fangs were able to grip the hide between the marks, and by shaking her head; she was able to tear some of the hide away. Continuing the attack on the hide brought her a sizeable opening where she could get at the rich red meat below. The work was difficult, but her pups needed as much food as she could bring them. The hide and the meat captured her attention, and she didn't hear or smell the approach of the saber tooth as he returned to his kill.
As the big cat approached the meadow where the calf's body lay, he noticed something strange. There were no vultures on the calf's carcass. Some of them were in the trees, but none on the ground. There were vultures in the air circling the clearing, but the trees held most of the flock. Something must have frightened them away from the kill. He sniffed the air; it was fouled by the vultures, but still held the faint scent of wolf. Only one wolf. A pack of wolves were a dangerous threat to all but the most fearsome of animals. He had learned about wolf packs when he was younger and lacked experience. He had come upon a pack of them and attacked with little thought that they would be a threat. They were startled and ran in different directions when he charged, and he managed to hurt one. They seemed to be confused at first, but then they broke into groups and attacked him. He was amazed that any creature so small would attack. He renewed his attack on them, but it was like trying to fight smoke. One moment one was close and he attacked it, but he would be hit from the rear. They would hit and run, they seemed to be everywhere. The madder he became the more effective their attacks became. They kept going for his hind legs. It wasn't long before he realized he was in trouble and there was a chance they would wear him out and kill him. Fortunately, he was close to the river and was able to get into the water. The wolves' attacks then had to be concentrated on his front, and they were not foolish to try. Instead, they changed tactics and tried to get him out of the water. Some of them would lie down on the bank and roll around on their backs trying to get him to attack. Others would rush into the water but they always broke away before they got close enough to be hurt. He was not taken in by their tricks but interested to see how smart they were. They barked at him, and he roared at them. He decided this whole mess shouldn't have happened in the first place. The only way out was retreat. He backed out farther into the water until he could swim, and then struck out for the other shore to a chorus of wolf calls. He hated wolfs. Today there was only one wolf, and it was payback time.
The saber tooth tested the wind and then moved quietly through the brush until he could approach his kill from down wind. He knew the wolf had a sensitive nose, but if the slight breeze didn't shift directions he would be able to surprise it. The closer he got, the less chance the wolf had of escape. Moving forward cautiously, his huge shoulder muscles quivered in anticipation of the signal to launch his attack. He had his ears down and his mouth open as he continued to close the distance.
The she-wolf had dropped her guard and was gulping large chunks of meat without appearing to chew. She was completely wrapped up in eating as much as she could in as short a time as possible.
The big cat attacked without sound or warning. His charge was like a flicker of light. He was on top of the she-wolf before she could raise her head. The cat caught her full on the side with his shoulder, but before she was knocked away, his claws raked her body from shoulder to hindquarter. She was unconscious as she was spun away to land in a heap on the opposite side of the calf. The big cat bounded over the calf and landed beside the wolf. He drew back to strike again but noticed she was not moving. Her side was laid open and her intestines were visible through the claw marks; blood pulsed out of the wounds onto the grass. He nudged her head with a bloody paw and it just rolled around as if it were broken. He reached down with his long tongue and tasted the wolf's warm blood. Taking a deep breath, he brought forth a roar, which could be heard for miles. It rolled across the land like a bloody shadow that covered all who heard it with fear. This was the victory call of a killer, who was proud to be a killer. He stood for a moment longer over the bloody body of the she-wolf, his head held high, ears up, and his fangs dripping the blood of the vanquished. The big cat nudged the wolf one last time, turned and sprayed her with his scent before moving back to the calf to feed.
A Strange Yield
It was the morning after his night with Ceola by the big rock at the river. It was a new day, and Cano was hunting again. He saw a small stream ahead that wound its way past a large gray boulder. The clear water was moving swiftly and made a pleasant gurgling sound as it passed over the small stones on the streambed. The sun was just starting to rise when he left camp at dawn. He must bring food back to camp today. He wanted Ceola to be proud of him. Just the thought of her made him feel happy. She was wonderful, and soon she would be his.
He had left a courting necklace by her family’s shelter late last night. It was made with care from some shells he had found by the river, a small rock that had a hole in it, and some hollow tubes of a brown wood that smelled good. They were all strung on a thin strip of snake hide, which had been rolled and then dried. He had found a "Y" shaped branch on a small tree and scraped the bark from it. Then he placed it near her side of the shelter with the necklace hanging on it. She would know it was from him because of the snake hide.
A frown crossed his face as he thought about last night. When he had left his necklace for her, there were two others hanging there. One of them was made from turkey features, which would be the one from Bana. The last one was made of small blue flowers, and thin strips of fur-covered animal hide. It was a mystery as to who could have left it.
The camp would be alive with talk of the maidens' suitors. This was one of the situations where the women of the clan were in their glory. The maiden had three days to choose a mate or reject all of them. The women would get together and gossip about each necklace and who could have made it. Their talk would be about the necklaces, but actually, it was about the sexual prowess of the suitor. Comments about strength, beauty, and durability, which seemed to describe the necklace, were actually directed toward the maker. Woman to woman, comments about how often the necklace could be used each night and how long it could be used were spoken through smiling lips.
A flicker of movement caught Cano's eye. He kept his body motionless but followed the movements with his peripheral vision. This was a trick that his father had taught him as a small boy. You had to train yourself, not to turn and look. The movement of your eyes could frighten some animals. Creatures such as the big birds can see small movements, even something as small as eye movements. The strange thing is that they can be looking directly at you and not see you unless you move. Cano saw that it was only a small bird at the water's edge. He frightened the bird with his first movements even though they were slow and quiet. Moving down to the stream, he knelt for a drink. The water w
as cool and tasted good. He slipped the cord holding his water skin from around his neck and then removed the wooden plug. The water in it was stale; he emptied it into the stream and then refilled it with fresh water. After slinging the water skin over his shoulder, he surveyed the woods around him. His gaze moved to the boulder in the stream, it was at least twice his height. It looked as though it would be easy to climb. Standing his spear by its base he climbed to its top. It was flat and provided a good view of the surrounding forest. He lifted off the water skin and removed his chopping tool from the leather cord at his waist. He placed them both down on the surface of the boulder and then lay down with his head resting on the water skin. It was pleasant and a good place to relax for a little while. He dropped into a light sleep almost instantly.
A rustling noise came to his ears, and he was instantly awake. Cano didn't move or even open his eyes at first. Slowly he opened his eyes, but he could not see anything but treetops. He tested the wind and detected the scent of deer. Cano moved slowly across the top of the boulder, until he could peer over the edge toward the stream. There were four deer at the water's edge and one farther back; it was eating something. Watching closely, he saw that it was eating mushrooms. This would be a perfect place to kill one of the deer, except for one thing. He had left his spear at the base of the boulder. He would frighten the deer if he tried to retrieve it. He quietly picked up his chopping tool and moved closer to the edge of the bolder. The deer kept feeding and didn't look up. They didn't seem concerned about danger from above. This could work to his advantage. If one of the deer got close enough, he could jump down on it and kill it with the chopping tool. It would have to be close and he would have to be fast. He settled down to wait for his chance.
Miles away in the small clearing beside the dead mammoth calf lay the half dead she wolf. She slowly fought her way through waves of pain toward consciousness. She had never felt pain like this. The last thing she remembered was eating. As she lay there gathering her strength, she took stock of her injuries. Her body was badly hurt and she was bleeding. Her back was sore, but she could move her hind legs. Testing the air for scent without moving she picked up the scent of a saber tooth. Escape, she knew she must escape before he came for her. Slowly she crept toward the taller grass. When she reached it, she painfully stood taller and pushing the pain to the back of her mind, she moved off toward her cubs. She had to get back to them. They needed her if they were going to live. An instinct as old as her breed gave her strength, she moved off as quickly as she could, trailing blood.
Cano had been watching the deer grazing for a long time. He knew if he was to get one it would have to be right below him. Finally, one of the deer with antlers moved over toward the base of the boulder where his spear stood. The deer approached it slowly as if unsure of the scent. He stopped suddenly, and pivoted his ears left and then right, as he tried to detect where a sound was coming from. The other deer stopped grazing and followed the stag's actions; they were all looking in the same direction. Cano strained his ears but could hear nothing. Abruptly all the deer bounded away into the brush. Cano remained motionless and listened, but still couldn't detect any sound. He tasted the air, but here was nothing he could identify.
Down the stream, there was a flicker of movement and the she wolf came into view. As she came closer, he could see that she was injured. She was leaving a light trail of blood. Pausing for a moment, she had a short drink at the stream before continuing. If she picked up his scent, she paid no attention to it, and limped slowly away.
Cano felt frustrated, he'd missed the deer because of the wolf. He made up his mind to trail the wolf until he could kill it safely. He knew that killing a wounded animal was more dangerous than killing one that wasn't injured. When an animal was near death, it would fight hard to stay alive. The key with any killing was to do it quickly. A wolf was always dangerous, and this wolf was injured. He would bide his time and follow it until it became too weak to be a threat. He climbed down from the boulder and retrieved his spear, and then he moved off to trail the wolf. He kept his pace slow and watched the trail signs to assure he would not be attacked by the wolf. It was hurt badly and was probably going to die. He would follow it and be there at the end. It wouldn't provide as much meat as the deer, but he wouldn't return empty handed. He smiled to himself as he walked along thinking about a story he had heard about two hunters that had met in the woods. The first hunter asked the second hunter if he had any luck. The second said he had some bad luck but it was okay. The first hunter asked what he meant. The second said "I didn't get any game but that was okay because I don't have to clean it when I get back to camp.” The first hunter then said, "You don't have to eat it either." So true, Cano thought.
He followed the wolf until the sun was high in the sky. The trail had been easy to follow, the blood trail heavy and the wolf was moving steadily in one direction. Cano noticed a vulture circling. There was some heavy brush on the side of a hill up ahead. He saw movement and froze; he studied the scene and tried to decide what was happening. It looked as though the wolf was down and being attacked by several small animals. Cano crouched down and moved off into the brush. He would circle and come down from the uphill side of the brush. That way the wind would be blowing up the hill toward him and he could identify the attackers and not have them know he was approaching. It took some time to circle and climb quietly down the hillside. As he got closer he found that the "attackers" were puppies and they were nursing or trying to, on the she wolf. She was dead. She had made it home to the pups, but she was too badly injured to survive. She was gone and the pups were sure to also die.
He noticed that he was just above the entrance to their den. He had an idea on how to save today's hunt. He found a large rock and was able to roll it to block the entrance to the den. Next, he opened the leather bag he carried and removed some rawhide strips, and made loops in one end of each. As quickly as he could, he captured the five puppies and had them all tied together on one lead. To say that the pups where unhappy was an understatement. Their yaps and barks were enough to make Cano's ears ring. He ignored the barking and skinned out the she wolf with his flint skinning stone. When he had removed the hide from the carcass, he threw it over to where the pups were tied. The hide landed fur side up, and the pups piled on and where quiet. Cano finished cutting the body and arranged the best cuts into a pile. He sat down to rest and figure the best way to get the meat and pups back to camp. He could kill the pups and bundle them and the meat together. If he could get the pups back to camp alive, he could keep them alive by feeding them scraps. When they were bigger, they could be killed for food. This seemed more sensible. He bundled the pups in the mother's hide, and slung it and the meat over his shoulders and headed for camp. Looking back, he could see the vultures coming down to clean up the wolf's remains.
A Small Cargo
It was a long hot trek back to the camp. He stopped only once to get a drink at the stream and rest for a few moments. Cano watched for signs of dangerous game on the way to camp, but he saw none. He walked into camp just as the sun was setting. As usual, Dola rushed forward to see what he had.
"Cano, what do you have? Can I help?" He was so excited that he only occasionally touched the ground.
Cano smiled at him, "I'm glad you're here Dola, I need help getting this wolf meat back to camp. Can you carry something for me?" Cano swung the hide with the puppies in it to the ground.
Dola rushed forward to pick it up, but just then, it moved. He looked from the bundle to Cano and back again. "It's alive," he said
Cano laughed and said, "It's more than alive. Do you think you can get it to Gennos without being killed?"
Dola looked doubtful but moved toward the bloody hide. Just then, a small furry face poked out of one of the folds in the hide and snarled at him. Dola looked from the small face to Cano, "It's a small wolf" he said in a shaky voice, "Will it bite?"
Cano reached down toward the pup and told him "Yes, it will bite.
But it's not a small wolf." He untied a corner of the hide and shook it, spilling all the pups into a pile. "It's a pile of small wolfs."
Dola was speechless, but the pups weren't and set out to break their previous noise record. If a sleeping mammoth were around it would have been frightened awake. They piled over each other trying to get away. The rawhide had come off a couple of them, but they all stayed in a puppy pile. Dola started to pick up a pup, but Cano warned him about their sharp teeth. "Wrap them back up in the pelt and take them over to Gennos, have him put them somewhere where they can’t get away. Be careful, we don't want to lose any of them."
Dola looked up at Cano and asked, "What are we going to do with them?"
Cano could see the concern on the little boys face. He wasn't sure how to tell him the fate of the pups. "We will keep them around and feed them left over food and bones. We'll see how they act around people. If they can be used for anything---well, we'll wait and see. If they don't work out—we'll see about that too." Dola was a little confused, but the pups were interesting and he did need to get them to Gennos. With a big smile on his face, he started gathering up the pups. "I'll get them over there right away."
Cano saw Ceola coming across the clearing. Life is good, she is so pretty.
She spoke first, "I see you had a good hunt, it looks like it was a big wolf. Where you in any danger?" She had a look of deep concern on her face.
He took a breath before answering. He thought about making up a story about a big fight but decided against it. "There was little danger; the she wolf had been in a fight and was near death. I followed her to her den. She was returning to her puppies. She was dead when I got there." He paused before continuing, "I would love to tell you a story of how difficult it was to bring her down, but I will never lie to you," he took a deep breath and looked into her eyes and added "I will always speak the truth to you."
The Thinking Rocks Page 7