Deltin snorted, “This isn’t another try at a throwing stick, is it?”
Pell tilted his head curiously as he examined his branch, “Why no. It’s for learning how to make a trough. But if you think it might work for a throwing stick, I guess we could try it for that.”
Deltin shook his head again, “You lie about as well as a little child.” He held out his hand for the piece of wood, “But, you did keep me fed through the winter, so I guess I owe you.”
Under Pell’s watchful eye, Deltin chiseled a trough in the trunk. To Woday the trough looked to be about the right size for one of the river stones Pell’d tried to throw earlier. While watching Deltin and making requests about how he wanted the trough shaped, Pell carried on a simultaneous conversation with his mother, working nearby, asking her whether she thought the plants they gathered tended to grow in the same location each year.
“Oh yes. They’re usually in the same places. Sometimes there’s more of them, sometimes less. Occasionally you’ll find them growing in a new location, but no one knows why.”
Sounding a little worried, Pell said, “Have you ever noticed, if the women really work hard to take all the food from one location, whether there’s less of that plant in that spot the next year?”
Donte looked away from the basket she was weaving to study her son. “I… I don’t think so…” she said slowly. Then curiously, “What made you wonder that?”
“When Tando and I put a snare out near an animal’s den and catch something, usually we can’t catch another animal in that spot again, at least for a while. So we constantly move our traps to new locations. I’ve assumed that it’s because we’ve already caught the rabbit or squirrel that lived there, so we have to catch one that lives somewhere else the next day. Do you think the same might be true of grains and fruits and roots?”
She looked at him doubtfully, “Pell, animals and plants are very different. Besides, we only gather part of the plant, not the whole thing.”
He shrugged, “Yeah, that’s true.”
Woday felt surprised Pell’d accepted Donte’s non-answer. After a brief pause though, Pell continued the conversation by saying, “Donte, when you get into the gathering season this year, will you let me know if you’re finding more or less food than last year, and if you’re finding any of it in different locations than this past fall?”
Donte shrugged, “Sure.”
Woday looked at Donte and Deltin, thinking that both of them would have thought Pell’s questions and requests ridiculous—if not for the fact that everyone seemed to respect the young man so. And, so do I, Woday thought, even if the only bone settings he’s taught me anything about have been the arm on Haida and the leg on Pont.
But, he did feed me through the winter as well.
***
Once Deltin finished the trough, Pell and Woday started for the creek again. Woday wasn’t surprised to find Deltin following them. Pell turned and frowned at Woday, “Thanks for teaching me how to chisel a trough.”
“If you want to make troughs on a regular basis, you’ll need to get Yadin to make you some chisels.”
“Probably a good idea. Thanks… Um, you don’t need to come with us.”
Deltin snorted. “This time I haven’t promised not to laugh. I’m going to fully enjoy watching this.”
Pell rolled his eyes. “You know, that’s just not nice.”
Deltin barked a laugh, “Ah, but so much fun!”
Pell spent picked out several rocks that fit the trough. Then he handed all but one to Woday and put the one he’d chosen on the new thrower. He carefully swung the thrower back behind him, then whipped it forward like he had the first one, using a motion like he did when throwing. This time Woday saw the rock shoot out of the thrower and into the stream. It didn’t go far, but that was only because Pell threw it down into the water.
Woday thought the stone had flown really fast.
He felt pretty sure it’d gone much faster than people could throw stones with their hands.
Wondering what he’d think about how fast Pell had thrown it, Woday looked over at Deltin. He caught a surprised look on Deltin’s face, but Deltin quickly stilled his expression. He turned to Pell with a frown, “That was interesting. Are you planning to use it for killing fish?”
With a laugh, Pell turned to look at Deltin, but then shifted to a serious expression. “Oh no. I’m told it’s hard to spear fish in the water because they aren’t where they appear to be. Besides, I’ve tried to throw rocks at fish in the water. Rocks don’t go far once they’re under the surface.”
He held out his hand to Woday. Woday belatedly realized Pell wanted another of the stones. He handed him one.
Pell loaded it into the stick and whipped his arm forward. This time the stone crossed the stream to penetrate the brush and whack loudly into the bank on the far side. Pell held out his hand again. Woday glanced at Deltin and thought he looked impressed.
Pell aimed the third stone downstream. It flew high over the water, disappearing from sight into the brush on the other side—far, far away.
Much further than Woday had ever seen anyone throw a rock.
Pell held out his hand for the fourth stone. When Woday gave it to him, Pell held it out to Deltin. He said, “I think that last stone went pretty far. You want to try throwing one by hand so we can compare?”
Deltin grinned at him, “Now who’s not being nice?” He snorted, “You know no one can throw that far!”
Producing a surprised looking frown, Pell said, “Are you sure?” He extended the stone a little closer to Deltin, “Don’t you want to at least give it a try?”
Deltin snorted and stepped back as if he didn’t want to touch the stone. “I’ll grant you that your damned stick throws stones a long way. The question now is whether you can hit anything. Put that stone in the stick and hit the white tree.”
Pell glanced at the tree, which Woday thought was unreasonably far away. “Hah! I don’t even get to practice before you test me?!”
Rolling his eyes, Deltin said, “Let’s see what you can do.”
Shaking his head as if mightily put upon, Pell set the stone in the cup, eyed the tree and whipped the stick overhand at it. To Woday’s astonishment, the stone flew right over the tree. His aim was straight enough that Woday thought if he’d thrown it lower, it would’ve hit the trunk.
Deltin grunted, “Do I need to pick a taller tree for a target?
Pell laughed again. “Let me practice some, then I’ll come and you can put me to the test.”
“Okay,” Deltin said. He turned to go, then paused, and shook his head. “I’ll admit, that stick’s pretty amazing. Do you need me to do anything else to it before you start practicing so you can humiliate me further?”
Pell looked at the cup on the stick for a moment, then pointed, “Can you cut away a tiny bit of wood at the edge of the cup?”
Deltin looked at it. He said, “I think a chisel or knife would break the wood there. I’d suggest using a rough stone to rub it away gradually.” He glanced down, “There are plenty of good stones for that underfoot here, and you’ve got an apprentice to do the work while you laze about pretending you’re thinking up your next idea.”
After Deltin walked away, Pell sat down, picked out a stone and started rubbing at the lip of the cup himself. At first Woday thought it was nice his master hadn’t assigned him to do it like Deltin suggested. Then he began to worry that Pell just didn’t think he was good enough to do it. He cleared his throat, “Um, would you like me to do that?”
Pell looked up at him uncomfortably, “Just because Deltin said it doesn’t mean you should have to do it.”
Woday sat down beside him, but had to lift a butt cheek and move a couple of uncomfortable stones. “I don’t think I need to be taught how to rub away wood with a rough stone—I’ve got that down. But I’d be happy to rub away the wood so you have time to explain to me why it needs to be removed.”
“Oh,” Pell said, look
ing surprised—as if he thought it was obvious. He handed Woday the stick and the stone, fingering the area he’d been rubbing as if to suggest Woday continue rubbing away the wood in that region. As Woday did so, Pell said, “The stick still wants to release the stone after my throwing motion has gone too far over the top. Thus the stones get thrown downward. That’s why the first one went into the river. The others went more where I wanted them to go, but I had to keep my wrist cocked back so they’d release at a higher angle. I’m sure I could throw harder if I didn’t have to hold back with my wrist.”
Woday blinked, Harder than he was throwing them already?!
He realized he’d stopped rubbing when Pell reached out for the stick, saying, “You thinking I should try it now, before we might’ve rubbed off too much?”
Woday handed him the stick. Pell picked up a stone much like the ones he’d thrown before. He laid it in the cup, then said “Too big.” He dropped it and picked up another. He seemed to think the second one was the right size because he got up and, with the rock in the cup, went through a slow throwing motion, apparently watching to see where the rock fell out of the cup. He shrugged as if he wasn’t sure if it was right yet. Bending, he picked up the stone and put it back in the cup, then paused a moment before whipping it toward the white tree.
This time it hit just in front of the base of the tree and bounded up to strike the trunk and fly away. It left a definite mark in the bark. Woday involuntarily drew his head back, amazed by how hard the rock had hit.
Pell said, “I think we should rub a little more wood off the lip.” He looked around, “We also need more stones that’re the right size. Do you want to rub while I look for stones?”
Woday shrugged, “I’ll look for stones. That way if too much wood gets rubbed away, it won’t be my fault.”
“Hah!” He laughed, “You’ve got to promise not to be too hard on me if I rub away too much.”
“You should stop pretty often, trying more throws each time to be sure you aren’t rubbing away too much…” Woday stopped, embarrassed to realize he was telling his master what to do.
Pell gave Woday a rock the right size and Woday looked for more stones while Pell rubbed away at the rim of the cup. Every so often he threw some of Woday’s stones with the stick. After the fourth trial, he proclaimed the stick good enough and said he wanted to settle down to practicing to see if he could develop accuracy.
Pell sent Woday back to get a large piece of leather and they loaded it with the stones Woday had found, plus more that Pell found while Woday was getting the skin. Then they took all the stones up the ravine past the shale outcrop to a stand of small trees where Pell normally practiced throwing.
Instead of throwing at the trees with the beat-up bark, Pell started throwing at a bare area on the side of the ravine. At first Woday wasn’t sure where he was aiming, but when stone after stone slammed into the dirt within an arm’s distance of a head sized white stone, Woday decided the rock must be his target.
Ominously, the white rock resembled a skull embedded in the bank.
By the time Woday estimated Pell had thrown six or seven hands of rocks, he was hitting the skull with most throws. Pell backed up another twenty paces and started throwing again. The first throws were low, but he quickly adjusted and began hitting close to the skull if not caroming off it.
Woday was practically gaping in astonishment, wondering if the stick also made throws more accurate.
Pell threw the last stone and said happily, “Let’s collect the stones, then you can have a try at throwing with the stick.”
By the time Pell and Woday finished collecting the stones into the skin, Yadin showed up asking Pell to go with him on the afternoon snare run. He wanted Pell’s thoughts on some of the sites where he’d placed snares that morning. Pell said, “Sure,” then turned to Woday. “You can practice your throwing without me, right?”
Secretly quite glad that Pell wouldn’t be there to watch his miserable attempts, Woday said, “Sure, I’ll see you when you get back.”
Woday waited until Pell and Yadin had gone around the bend in the ravine before loading his first stone in the thrower. To his dismay, when he started to throw the stone it fell out of the cup, landing in the dirt just behind him. Thank the spirits no one was here to see that! he thought.
Cocking the empty thrower back, then looking over his shoulder, Woday saw that he was tilting it backward at the end of his backswing. He slowly practiced the throwing motion with the stick several times, watching the position of the cup as he did so. Once he thought he understood, he tried it a couple of times, slowly, with the stone in the cup. The stone fell out shortly after the cup crossed over his shoulder those times, dropping just in front of him. However, he felt pretty sure that if he’d been throwing full speed, it would have flown forward from the swiftness of the motion.
Woday loaded the stone up and tried really throwing it again. This time, with his improved mechanics, the stone flew across the small clearing, hitting the ground just in front of the embankment with the skull target. Woday felt encouraged by the fact that he’d missed about the same way Pell had with his shot at the white tree.
Remembering what Pell had said, Woday held back slightly with his wrist and this time the stone flew over the exposed bank and into the bushes above it. With determination, Woday worked his way through the entire skin full of stones. By the end of it he was hitting the bank every time, and coming within an arm’s length of the skull some of the time, but he’d only hit the stone once. His shoulders sagged, Is it just that he’s so talented? Or am I so bad?
Having always been a failure at throwing, Woday feared it was the latter. With frustrated determination, he recollected the rocks and threw them again. He thought he improved a little more, but he was still a long way from Pell’s proficiency.
Wondering what to do with the stones after he’d collected them again, he carried them back to a couple of flat topped shale boulders near the other side of the ravine. There he found a large pile of rocks that were a little bigger than the round stones they were using with the throwing stick. He frowned a moment, then realized they must be the rocks Pell used to practice throwing by hand. I’ll come back tomorrow and practice my own throwing by hand, he thought.
But now, I’d better go check the fish traps…
Chapter Two
Hearing some cheering, Valri listlessly looked up. Good news for the sea people didn’t necessarily mean good news for her, Karteri, or Quen. But then one of the young men rounded a hut weighed down with five large fish. Valri’s heart thumped and her mouth began to water. Maybe there’ll be enough that they’ll give some to us slaves?! She immediately realized this was a forlorn hope; even when they’d had plenty of fish back last fall, they hadn’t wasted it on their slaves until it was starting to go bad.
When Radan saw the fish, he proclaimed a feast. Soon, Valri was bringing extra wood for the fire and Karteri had been put to work cleaning the fish. Instead of boiling water to make a soup, the fish were put on the coals intact, excepting Karteri’s removal of their internal organs.
Valri found the smell of the roasting fish intoxicating. So much so that she stood downwind just so she could smell it. As she stood there dreaming about the possibility she might get to eat some, she noticed Karteri signaling her. Reluctant to give up the hope that she’d get a few scraps, Valri walked slowly in Karteri’s direction.
Then she saw Karteri’s bloody fingers and walked faster. Sure enough, Karteri had saved some of the guts and organs of the fish for Valri and Quen. Thinking to herself that she would never have stooped to eating fish innards in the past, especially raw; Valri slurped up and gulped down the partial handful Karteri held out, then sucked at Karteri’s fingers and licked her palm.
Although even that small amount of food made her feel full, she still wished for more. “Is that all there was?” Valri didn’t want to sound accusatory, but her share of the guts from five large fish would certainly have be
en more than the small handful she’d gotten.
Karteri got a frightened look on her face, “No, but you know they use the offal to bait their gorges. I’m already worried they’ll realize I took the little bit I did.”
Valri’s eyes widened as she realized the truth of Karteri’s concern. Worse, just as she began to fear for her friend if she got caught, Valri began to feel her stomach revolting against the sudden onslaught of food. I will not throw this up! She knew that people who’d been hungry sometimes threw up if they suddenly ate a lot, but this hadn’t even been a handful! I will keep it down, and I will get stronger!
After a bit, the urge to vomit faded. Valri reached out and gently touched Karteri and Quen. When she had their attention, she said, “I think it’s starting to warm up. If we get enough food to get our strength back, I’m going to run away.”
A horrified look came over Quen’s face, “But look what happened to…”
Valri interrupted. Speaking with all the conviction she could muster, she said, “I’d rather die than live with these horrible people another winter. I hope you’ll both run with me.”
Karteri said, “Three of us together will leave more sign for them to track. Besides, we’ll only be able to travel as fast as the slowest of us.”
Valri didn’t want to run by herself. On the other hand, she knew Karteri was speaking on Valri’s behalf because she was the healthiest of the three so far. She’d been younger and stronger than Karteri when they were captured, and the pretty Quen had been here many moons longer than they had. Valri slowly said, “Perhaps we should take three different paths. It’d be much more difficult for them to capture all three of us because they’d have to split up. And if one of us wins free, perhaps she can bring a tribe back to rescue the others.”
“A tribal war?!” Quen asked in a horrified whisper.
Valri nodded, “Yes. I think the men of Agan’s tribe would be willing to fight to stop what’s been happening here. Everyone thinks slavery is wrong.”
Summer Page 5