Now he saw smoke pouring out of it and understood what Pell had meant by “guiding the smoke” up the outer wall of the cave so it could exit out the hole. The smoke was thick and jetting out much faster than he usually saw smoke rise from a fire. He turned to Pell, “Is that what you meant by a ‘smoke guide?’ That all the smoke from the fire is being guided up that little tunnel and then comes out up there?”
Pell nodded, “Yeah, I hate it when the cave’s smoky. It makes me cough.” He turned to talk to his mother who’d come up behind him.
Sandro turned to stare at the smoke coming out the hole. He hadn’t given any thought to the fact that, despite the fire, the air inside the cave hadn’t been smoky. “Wow, that really works… surprisingly well! Do all the tribes here in the east use these smoke guides?”
Yadin, who was sitting out on the ledge giving his young apprentice a lesson in how to knap flint, looked up and laughed. “No, only one tribe has a smoke guide.”
“Did one of you visit them? Is that how you learned how to do it?”
Yadin shook his head, a twinkle in his eye. “This tribe… This tribe’s the only one that has a smoke guide.”
“How did you learn how to do it?!”
Yadin barked a laugh, “Like all the other crazy things you’re going to find us doing around here, someone just thought them up.”
Sandro frowned, “Who?!”
Yadin pointed out into the meadow. Pell and his mother Dante had walked out there. They were squatting and examining the ground.
“Pell? Or his mother?”
“Pell,” Yadin said in an exasperated tone. “Sometimes it seems like he’s thinking up something new every day!” He looked into the distance, “But, actually, sometimes an entire moon goes by before he has another one of his crazy ideas. So, it isn’t really every day.”
“How did he know the guide was going to work?!”
“I don’t know!” Yadin said. “I damned sure didn’t think it was going to work. He claims he didn’t know if it was going to work. But, he says that about almost all of his new ideas. Thinks he just gets lucky.” Yadin shook his head again, “I didn’t used to believe in spirits. But now, I don’t know. I don’t think any one person could have had all these ideas if the spirits weren’t whispering them in his ear.”
Not knowing what to think about Yadin’s little rant, Sandro looked up at the smoke hole again. “Why’s the smoke rising out of the smoke hole so much faster than it’s rising off the fire?”
Yadin turned to look up and study the smoke as it came out. “I guess you’re right, it does look like it’s moving pretty fast, but I sure don’t know why that would be.” He looked out across the meadow at Pell. “Maybe he knows?”
Sandro hopped down off the ledge and started across the meadow towards Pell and his mother. When he got there, Pell was saying to Donte, “You’re sure these are young grain plants?”
She sounded a little exasperated, “Of course not! I won’t be sure they’re grain plants until they have grain on top of them. I’m just saying they look like grain plants. You asked me to tell you if I saw something like this!”
“And you’re sure there wasn’t grain here last year, right?”
Donte nodded. “That I’m sure of. We didn’t harvest any grain here last year, and I certainly would’ve noticed grain growing right out in front of our cave. It’d be the easiest to harvest, after all.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, “Maybe I could take one of these little plants and go compare it to the plants that are growing in one of the places where we did harvest grain last year. Would that help?”
Pell shrugged, “It’d be interesting, but I guess there’s no reason to try to figure it out right now. We’ll know the answer this fall when these plants either have grain or they don’t.” He looked around the area again, “Why do you suppose grain plants would’ve decided to grow in a circle?”
Sandro looked around, realizing that the little plants they were interested in did seem to be growing in a circle around the area where they were standing.
Dante slowly turned, also sweeping the area with her eyes. “I don’t know,” she said slowly.
Mother and son stood there for a few moments, just looking around the little circle. Since they didn’t seem to be doing anything, Sandro interposed his own question. “Pell, I see that your smoke guide somehow guides the smoke up and out that hole, rather than letting it fill the cave. It’s a wonderful idea, but… why does the smoke come out of the hole so much faster than smoke rises from the regular fire that’s out on the ledge?”
“Really?” Pell said, his eyes on the rising columns of smoke. He started walking back toward the cave. He said musingly, “That’s really interesting.”
Pell stopped about thirty paces from the ledge. Lifting a piece of wood on his necklace up to his eye, he turned and slowly tilted his head back as if he were following the smoke as it rose from the fire out on the ledge. Then he turned to follow the smoke rising out of the hole in the cave. He said, “You’re right. It’s coming out of the hole much faster than it’s rising off the fire.”
Sandro said, “What’s… Why are you holding that piece of wood in front of your eye?”
Pell turned and said, without any apparent embarrassment, “Like a lot of people, I can’t see things well when they’re far away.” He pulled the necklace off and held it out to Sandro, “But if I look through the little hole in this piece of wood, it lets me see more clearly.” He grimaced a little, “Unfortunately, it only works during the day, when the light’s bright.”
Sandro lifted the chip of wood to his own eye, seeing a small hole and peering through it. He took the chip away and put it back. He shook his head dubiously, “I don’t see any difference.”
“Ah,” Pell said, “I’ll bet you’re one of those fortunate people who can see well in the distance anyway, aren’t you?”
“I guess,” Sandro said, uncertainly.
Pell took his necklace back and waved the little piece of wood at someone walking down the ravine toward them. He said, “Can you tell who that is?”
“Deltin,” Sandro replied, feeling a little puzzled.
When he looked at Pell again, the young man had the piece of wood up to his eye. He said, “You’re right. But I couldn’t have told you for sure who it was without looking through my far-seer.” He gave Sandro an admiring glance, “I wish I could see like you.”
Sandro felt surprised by the warm feeling that went through him on the compliment from the much younger man.
Donte spoke from behind them. “Pell, I’ve realized something. The new grain’s growing where we threshed grain last fall.”
Pell turned to look back out at the part of the meadow where he and his mother’d been looking at the plants they thought might be young grain. To Sandro’s surprise, Pell looked excited. Gathering and thrashing grain was women’s work; why would Pell care about it? Pell said, “You’re right! Why didn’t I notice that?!”
His mother gave him a little shove, “Well, it might be because you were never here on the days we were threshing grain…” She snickered, then said darkly, “Somehow.”
He held up his hands in aggrieved protest. To Sandro’s surprise, he said, “You know I would’ve helped you thresh grain!”
She lifted an eyebrow, “Sure. Sure you would have.”
Pell threw his head back and laughed aloud. He pointed an admonishing finger at her, “The next time you thresh grain, you be sure to let me know the day before so I can be there to help!”
She gave him the eye. Speaking ominously she said, “Oh, you can be sure I will.”
Pell laughed again, but his attention was already elsewhere as he walked back out into the meadow again. “Why would grain grow where you threshed?”
Why indeed? Sandro wondered.
“I don’t know,” Donte said, “maybe beating the wheat causes its spirit to leave the wheat and inhabit the ground nearby?”
“Oh… That’s a good idea. Or may
be the spirit lives in the chaff that blows away while we’re winnowing?”
Donte shook her head, “Then most of the new grain plants would be over there,” she waved a hand, “because the wind blows most of the chaff that direction.”
“Maybe it grows from the grain itself? You don’t catch all the grain on the skins you spread out here to catch it, do you?”
“Oh, no,” Donte said, looking around. “That’d explain why it’s growing in a circle, wouldn’t it? It grows around where the skins were lying.”
Pell smiled at his mother, “That’s brilliant! I think you’ve figured it out. The plants grow wherever grain falls.” He looked around, “This fall you should thresh the grain in a different area. If you keep moving to different spots, maybe someday the whole meadow will be growing grain!”
“Or, we could just thresh it wherever we want; then throw some grain where we want grain to grow.”
Pell threw his arms around her, “That’s an even better idea!”
Donte gave him a look that suggested she thought he should reign in his enthusiasm. “Don’t forget that the birds’ll be trying to eat the grain we throw out there.”
He shrugged happily, “That’s not a problem. We can put out traps and then we’ll eat the birds.”
Traps? Sandro thought, What in the world are traps?”
***
Valri saw them on her way back from the shore where she’d been collecting salt. Getting salt was a job the slaves were expected to do whenever they weren’t assigned another task. Although there were a couple of small sandy beaches close to where the sea people lived, much of the shoreline consisted of massive rocky shelves. After high tide, pools of water containing splashed seawater dried up. As they dried, they left behind the essence of the sea in the form of salt. The best salt came as fine, white, flaky little “flowers” that floated on the surface of nearly dry pools. Valri collected the flowers into a separate pouch for ceremonies—and to trade at a premium with other tribes. Less precious salt was scraped from dried pools for everyday use and to trade with those who didn’t recognize the exquisite beauty and flavor of the little white flowers.
Hoping she’d collected enough of the precious salt to avoid a beating, Valri hurried along the trail back to the village. A flash of low bushy green leaves caught her eye through the brush lining the path. Pausing to see what it was, her heart caught. Glancing around to be sure no one was watching, she pushed through the brush into a small open area. It looks like…!
Valri glanced around again, looking for a stick she could dig with. Not finding one, she knelt and scrabbled at the dirt with her fingers. She used the thin flat rock she scraped salt with to break through hard spots. She saw a flash of yellow.
Finally, with one hand pulling on the leafy green top and the other still digging with her rock, she broke the carrot free. Still looking around for observers, she quickly consumed the mildly bitter carrot greens. Valri brushed the dirt off and tucked the carrot’s yellow root under her furs as she started to push back through the brush to the path. A glance back over her shoulder showed her a few more splashes of green that might represent more young carrots.
For a moment she pondered going back and trying to eat as many as she could. But if the sudden large meal made her sick and she threw them all up, it’d be a disaster. Better to leave them there, hoping she could come back again for another carrot every day or so, thus stretching the little bit of food she’d found over a period of time. They’d be getting bigger. It’d also be easier to share them with Karteri and Quen if she took one carrot at a time. If she took a lot of them, it’d make a bulge under her furs that might attract attention.
As she continued back to the sea people’s camp, she looked around with heightened interest. She’d always assumed that the women of the sea people must gather all that there was to be had in the immediate area. Since the slaves were never allowed to go far, she hadn’t thought it’d be possible to find any food. How could I have been so foolish! It isn’t as if it hurts me to keep an eye out!
That night as she, Karteri and Quen bedded down under the discarded thatch from one of the huts that had been rebuilt, Valri broke her small carrot into three little pieces that they shared with great joy. It was a welcome supplement to the small bowls of fish soup they’d been given earlier in the evening.
As they snuggled up to one another for warmth, Valri said, “I think I’m getting stronger now that there’s a little more food. And we should be eating more now that I know to at least keep my eyes out for greens we can eat. Maybe we can try our escape the next time the moon’s thin?”
She felt more than saw Quen shake her head, “Later in the summer, we’ll be stronger yet. Besides, more of the foods we can gather will have matured. We’ll need for there to be a lot so we can find something to eat even while we’re on the run.” Her voice got sad, “They won’t easily give up the chase you know. We have to be ready to run for days.”
“I guess you’re right,” Valri said disappointedly. She should know, Valri thought, she’s already lived through a summer with these horrible people.
***
Sandro woke before everyone else. For a while he just lay there thinking. He wondered if he and Jomay could leave for home now. After all, Jomay’s elbow was back in place, the swelling was going down, and he was starting to use his arm for little things. But, maybe even if Jomay was ready to go, they should stay around to learn about some of the amazing things that the people of Cold Springs were doing. Maybe I could trade some of my goods for one of their spear throwers and a couple of spears?
Deciding he wasn’t going to get back to sleep, he decided to get up and put a few pieces of wood on the fire. Everyone always appreciated the person who warmed the cave on a chilly morning.
Sandro crawled out from underneath the furs they let him sleep under. Like the furs many of the Cold Springs people slept under, it was stitched of the skins of many small animals—in this case, rabbits—rather than one or two large animals like he was used to. At first he’d been surprised by that, but then after seeing a hunter coming in almost every morning with several small animals, and then another hunter come in with several more in the afternoon, he realized they’d found a better way to hunt small animals. I wonder if they’re killing them by throwing stones with those “throwing sticks?” That’d be a little hard to believe since the reason small animals are so hard to kill is because it’s difficult to be accurate enough to hit them when you throw. They’d let him throw stones with their throwing sticks on a couple of occasions and he knew that the sticks could throw very hard and very far. However, they certainly weren’t any more accurate.
While he’d been thinking about this, he’d made his way over to the stack of wood they kept for their fire. He carried a couple of substantial sticks over to the fire and reached into the opening in the smoke guide to stir them into the hot coals that remained from the night. Maybe I could get one of them to take me hunting. Learning how to hunt small animals as successfully as they do would make me quite welcome back home.
Having warmed a little, he was turning away from the fire to go outside and empty his bladder when his eyes tracked back to the fire. The two sticks he’d put on the coals were already burning. Those coals are hotter than usual, he mused to himself.
Sandro went outside. When he was returning, he met Yadin on his own way outside. Still wondering about the hot fire, he said, “Hey, the coals on your fire are hotter than the ones in our fires back home. Do you put a different kind of wood on the fire at night?”
Yadin shook his head, “The fire’s been hotter since Pell built his smoke guide. We don’t need to put as much wood on it for it to be just as hot as our previous fires.” Thoughtfully he said, “We have to put wood on it more often than we used to though.”
Puzzled, Sandro asked, “Why is that?”
Yadin snorted, “I have no idea. You’ll have to ask Pell.” He moved past Sandro, evidently intent on emptying his own bladd
er.
When Pell got up later that morning, Sandro waited for a pause in his conversations, then waved at the fire, “Your fire’s hotter than a normal fire. I asked Yadin if you burned a different kind of wood, but he says that it’s just been hotter since you built your smoke guide. Why does your smoke guide make the fire hotter?”
“The fire’s hotter?” Pell said, as if surprised and interested.
Sandro told him about the wood catching fire faster from the coals and what Yadin had said about the fire radiating a lot of heat even though it was smaller than it’d been back before the chimney had been built. He also brought up the fact that Yadin said the fire had to be fed more often as if it was burning wood faster.
“That’s amazing!” Pell said, picking his way through to the fire and squatting down to stare at it.
His apprentice, Woday, had gotten up and come over. Sandro had noticed the apprentice followed him everywhere as if fearful that he’d miss learning even the tiniest tidbit. When Pell said he was going to get a piece of wood so he could see it catch on fire more rapidly himself, Woday quickly stood and, saying, “I’ll get one,” moved off toward the stacks of wood.
Pell called after him, “Thanks. Get a long one that’s about as big around as your thumb.”
When Woday returned with a stick of those dimensions, Pell took it and reached into the fire, placing one end of the stick on one of the hot coals. As Sandro had noticed earlier, the wood caught fire quickly. Once it had flames on it, Pell pulled it out of the fire. For a moment he stared contemplatively at the flames coming from the stick; then he blew them out. Thinking Pell’s experiment was over and feeling a little hot, Sandro stood up in order to move away from the fire. However, Pell stared at the smoking tip of the piece of firewood he held in his hand. Then he moved the stick closer to the opening in the smoke guide, then off to one side, looking at it as if with great interest. Curious, Sandro said, “What are you looking at?”
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