by Jo Sandhu
‘When snow gone,’ Worj said, and spat onto the ground. ‘River too fast now. Ground soft. Sink down. Get stuck. Cannot pull Yarin out.’
So they remained a while longer with the clan.
Each day, he climbed to the meadow above the cave to practice the spear thrower. He couldn’t explain to Kaija why he felt so guilty about Yorv. He wasn’t sure he knew himself. But if this wondrous new weapon was going to change the way the clans hunted, he had to throw perfectly every time.
Luuka and the wolves often kept him company. Luuka could cast the spear further than Tarin, but he couldn’t match his accuracy. As Spring advanced, Tarin’s muscles firmed and his throw became deadly accurate. But he couldn’t interest the other members of Worj’s Clan in the new weapon. They found the throwing action difficult and unwieldy, preferring to use the heftier wooden spears their ancestors had always used. Nor did they want to use the flint spear heads Tarin had made for them. Instead, they hardened the tips of their spears in the fire, shaving the burnt wood down until a sharp point remained. This was how they had made their spears for generations, and they saw no reason to change.
It made Tarin realise how different the Esi’s way of thinking was to the people he had grown up with. They saw no benefit in the spear thrower. They listened as he explained how to fashion spearheads from flint and bone, but they shook their heads and smiled and kept living the same lives as their ancestors.
‘Long time past,’ Worj said, standing next to Tarin one day and looking out over the forest toward the mountains. ‘All land belong to Esi.’ He waved his arms wide and bared his teeth to the wind. ‘All land, forest and mountain and all way to big ice. Now land belong to others.’ Worj shook his head sadly.
‘To others?’ Tarin followed Worj’s gaze to the horizon, where the jagged mountain peaks softened to hazy grey.
‘Others like Yarin,’ Worj said. ‘Clan of Mammoth. Clan of Boar. Clan of River. Soon, Esi no more.’
Tarin shivered. The wind from Ice Bringer was still touched by snow. He pulled his tunic around him and tried to imagine a world that was yet to come. A world where the Clans of Men covered the earth, and the Old Ones, the ancient Esi, diminished and faded away. It was with a sense of loss that he imagined this world. And with a sense of inevitability. If the Esi didn’t learn new ways, or change the way they hunted, then how could they survive in such a harsh land?
So Tarin came to the meadow alone or with Kaija and Luuka, and each day he practised with the spear thrower.
The wolves spent their days roaming the meadow, pouncing on fluttering insects and chasing birds. Occasionally they helped with a hunt, but after startling a herd of saiga antelope too soon, they were banished from any subsequent outings.
At night, Tarin tried to dream of Spirit of Owl and Spirit of Wolf. He had felt their absence over the long, dark Winter, when all animals retreated to their place of safety and warmth and waited for the Ice Mother’s rage to abate. He called to them in his dreams, but still they eluded him, and he woke feeling bereft and alone.
‘Hei O.’ Kaija and Aba walked toward Tarin as he stood staring down at the stream. Baskets of herbs and Spring greens – dandelions, clover and nettles – were strapped to their backs. Nilkka frolicked beside them. ‘How’s the water level?’
‘Still high.’ Tarin bent to scratch Nilkka around the ears. She put her paws up on his chest and licked his chin.
‘It’s lower than yesterday,’ Kaija said. ‘Look, here’s my mark.’ She slipped her basket from her back and sat down on the rocks by the stream, waving to Aba as she continued on to the cave. Tarin looked happier, but his face soon fell again. Kaija studied him thoughtfully. ‘Tarin? Is something wrong? It’s not just the water level, is it?’
Tarin picked up a stone and cast it into the stream. It bounced off the rocks and disappeared with a splash. He took a deep breath and released it in a rush. ‘No.’
Kaija waited, and presently he continued to talk.
‘It’s Owl,’ he said. ‘Spirit of Owl.’ He picked up another stone. It was smoothed by the water and grey like an owl. He held it in his hand and frowned. ‘Owl has been with me all my life. Owl saved me when I was a baby, and whenever I needed help, Owl was there to guide me. He showed me how to chase the shadows from your Spirit when you were injured and he showed me how to run with Wolf and find Yorv and Narn.’ He gripped the stone in his palm. ‘Owl showed me how to fly!’ He hurled the rock as far as he could, far over the stream and into the forest.
‘And now?’ Kaija asked softly, as Tarin fell silent.
He ran his hands through his hair and dropped onto a rock next to her. ‘Now,’ he said. ‘I cannot find Owl. I cannot find Wolf. I try to call them, but it is as if they cannot hear me.’
He stared at her, his gaze locked with hers, but his eyes were wild and Kaija felt as though he was looking at something a long way away. It was an uncomfortable gaze and Kaija shivered.
‘What have I done?’ he asked. ‘What have I done that Owl and Wolf turn away from me? Because that is what it feels like. In my dreams, I see them, but we are apart. I see Owl in the sky, but I cannot reach him. Wolf is running through the forest. I hear his howl and see his trail, but I am slow and clumsy and cannot catch him.’ He raked his hair again and stared once more at the water.
Kaija shifted on the rocks and let her fingers trail in the icy stream. She was wondering what to say, when Tarin continued.
‘After I left Mammoth Clan, Spirit of Mammoth no longer walked with me – Mammoth told me to run with the wolves. And here I am, with you and Luuka, Rohk and Nilkka – our Clan of Wolves. I thought maybe the Ice Mother was keeping me from Owl, covering the forest in her snow and ice, but as she returns to sleep, still I cannot fly.’
‘Maybe she still holds you back,’ Kaija said. ‘The ice and snow lies heavy in the forest.’
‘Maybe.’ Tarin shook his head and rose to his feet. He held his hand out to help her from the rocks. ‘You must be right. I have to be patient. Once the ice and snow is gone, Owl can fly free. Then we can continue our journey and finally reach the Mother’s Mountain.’
Kaija’s hand convulsed in his and she caught her breath. Slowly she stood and reached for her basket, not meeting his eyes. She knew this moment had to come, but still she hesitated.
‘What is it?’ Tarin asked.
Kaija adjusted the woven reed straps on her basket. ‘Nothing. My leg went numb from sitting on the rocks.’
‘You look pale.’ Tarin frowned at her.
Kaija shook her head. She had to tell him . . . she had to tell the truth, but how could she? They had become so close after all the dangers they had faced. They were Clan. How could she tell him she had deliberately lied to him?
The stream had dropped further and the moon was full once more before Yorv was able to leave the cave. He was pale and thin, and placing weight on his leg was still painful, but Luuka had made him a sturdy pair of sticks to lean on as he walked. He took a few careful steps, with Roba and Luuka on either side of him, before his face paled further and he had to sit down.
Tarin dropped his head and returned to his work. He was knapping a new spearhead from flint, using a heavy river stone to carefully chip flakes of flint into a sharp point. He kept his eyes on his work, but he was aware when Roba left Yorv resting in the sun and came toward him.
‘Show Roba spear.’ The man made a throwing movement with his hands.
‘The spear thrower?’ Tarin passed one to him and Roba hefted it in his hands, feeling the weight. He lifted it up, as though to throw, but his movements were clumsy and he shook his head in disgust. Then his gaze followed Yorv as he struggled to stand and his grip tightened.
‘Show Roba throw. Teach Roba.’
‘Teach you to use the spear thrower?’ Tarin asked. ‘Now?’
‘Now.’ Roba started to walk toward the meadow, the spear thrower in his hands.
Tarin shrugged and hurried after him. He caught up with the man at the t
op of the trail and paused to catch his breath. The sharp climb from the cave was easier these days – he had grown strong and his leg no longer hurt so much – but it still made him sweat and his heart beat faster. He breathed in deeply. The wind was cool and scented with the Spring flowers that covered the meadow in a thick layer of yellow, pink and blue. Roba pushed through the flowers and waited by the targets for Tarin to catch up.
‘Show.’ He pushed the spear thrower toward the younger boy.
‘Like this.’ Tarin placed a wooden spear in the thrower, then he pretended to cast it forward. Roba nodded and tried himself. After several pretend throws, Tarin took aim and cast a stronger throw. It sailed through the air and landed in the grass-stuffed target.
‘You try.’ He gave the thrower to Roba.
Roba gripped it and narrowed his eyes against the wind. His arm was the sturdy, muscled arm of an Esi hunter, and his throw was strong, but he didn’t have Tarin’s precision of eye. The spear fell wide, but not by very much. Tarin whooped and clapped him on the back.
Roba grinned. ‘Throw bad.’
‘It was a great throw!’ Tarin smiled widely. ‘Try again.’
Roba’s second throw was closer, but his third went wild. He shook his head and spat on the ground.
‘You just need to practice. Every day,’ Tarin said as they collected the cast spears.
‘Every day.’ Roba nodded. ‘Roba practice.’
Every day, Tarin and Roba climbed to the meadow to practise their throws. Soon, they were joined by Luuka, Yeb and Narn. The young men were more eager to learn than their elders. Yeb and Narn gained skill quickly, but it was Roba who was the most determined. Even when the weather was poor, still he practised, and his accuracy was soon close to Tarin’s.
‘Roba hunt for Yorv,’ he said, his face serious. He glanced at his clans-men and they nodded.
‘We hunt for Yorv.’ Narn gripped Roba’s shoulder and drew the others into a tight circle. With arms around each other’s shoulders, they touched their heads together.
‘For Yorv,’ the group chanted.
Tarin shivered as his skin turned clammy and the hair on his arms rose. He knew this feeling. He held his breath, waiting, anticipating, and suddenly he was running – they were all running – through the trees, through the forest. Their feet were large black paws. Their muzzles the long, canine muzzles of black wolves. Wolf Clan was running, and their howls echoed through the forest as they shared their grief and their determination. They would not let Worj’s Clan die.
Tarin raised his head and howled. Each wolf’s voice was pitched slightly differently, so their song blended together and filled the air. This was their forest, and the other animals – the wolverines, the foxes and even the boars – shivered and melted into the shadows as the wolf pack ran.
Then Tarin noticed the bigger wolves were slowly outpacing he and Luuka. They were running ahead, and suddenly the two smaller wolves were alone in the silent forest. Tarin Wolf panted, the air steaming around him. He whined and pawed the ground, but he knew the others had run far ahead and he could no longer follow. The Esi would endure. They were strong, and it was time for Tarin and Luuka to leave them. Sadness filled his heart and he lifted his head and howled. It was a howl filled with loss.
The vision faded and they were once more young hunters, united, resolute and strong. Tarin hung his head, the feeling of loss still heavy in his heart.
It was the wolf pups who broke up their solemn circle. Rohk and Nilkka had been whining and sniffing at the edge of the meadow, where the hazel brush gave way to scattered birch trees. Luuka had been training the wolves not to rush off wildly through the trees and they were slowly learning, but they had spotted something moving and they dearly wanted to chase it.
Tarin narrowed his eyes and strained his senses. The feeling of running as Wolf stayed with him. He sniffed the air and the scent was familiar to him. Now he could see the movement. Through the trees and past the stream.
‘Reindeer!’ he said.
Narn turned to where he pointed. ‘Small herd,’ he said. ‘Young males. Eat birch trees.’
A small group that had broken away from the main herd’s Spring migration, Tarin thought. Too young to realise their danger. Too far from their herd to be protected. His heart quickened.
‘No time to dig a pit.’ Luuka strained to hold back the wolves. ‘They will be gone soon.’
‘The spear throwers!’ Roba said. ‘We hunt now. Yeb. Narn. That way.’ He directed them downhill. They nodded and disappeared into the trees with their spear throwers. ‘Luuja, hold wolves. When deer run, chase back to Roba.’ He demonstrated his plan with his hands and Luuka nodded. Roba slapped Tarin on the back. ‘Yarin with me.’
They made their way swiftly and silently through the trees, edging closer to the grazing animals. Roba raised his head and sniffed the air. He signalled Tarin to stay where he was. ‘Scent on wind. Warn reindeer.’ Another benefit of the spear throwers, Tarin thought. They could hunt from further away so the animals wouldn’t get their scent.
When they were in position, Roba raised his spear thrower. Through the trees, Narn and Yeb did the same. They would have one cast each before the panicked reindeers would turn and flee, but Luuka and the wolves were in place to send the animals back toward the hunters. With luck, they would have another chance to bring down their prey. Tarin hoped Rohk and Nilkka wouldn’t give chase too quickly and scatter the herd.
Roba grunted, drew back his arm, and cast his spear toward the reindeer. It flew long and far, much further than any Esi spear could go. Tarin, Yeb and Narn quickly followed with their own throws. Two animals dropped straight away. Another ran, a spear hanging from its flank. The rest of the animals crashed blindly through the trees, running toward Luuka and the wolves.
‘Now, Rohk. Now, Nilkka!’ Luuka gave the order to run, and the wolves gave chase, one on each side of the herd.
‘Don’t spear the wolves!’ Luuka shouted, running after them. Tarin held his throw. Nilkka was too close. It was too dangerous. ‘Nilkka! Back!’ Luuka dived for her and grabbed her around her middle. Tarin saw his chance and threw his spear. The deer fell. Nilkka wriggled free and tried to grab the deer by the hoof and her brother joined her. Tarin ran to save his spear and the remaining reindeer disappeared through the trees. He shook his head at Luuka. ‘I don’t know if they help or hinder.’
The pups snarled at each other, arguing over ‘their’ kill. Nilkka batted Rohk on the nose and he whimpered.
‘Six deer!’ Yeb yelled. He raised his spear thrower in the air and shook it triumphantly.
Roba grinned at him. He knelt and touched the fallen reindeer, then touched the ground. He bowed his head. ‘Good hunt. Thank Great Spirit.’
Tarin didn’t think he had ever seen the man so happy. It had been a good hunt, and a fast one. Tarin’s spirits lifted. If the young men used the spear throwers so effectively, all their hunts should be successful.
‘Six deer!’ Yeb ran through the trees. Rohk and Nilkka yelped and ran with him. ‘Good wolves. Help hunt.’
Luuka grinned and shook his head. ‘More training.’ He tried to make the pups come to him, but they were too excited. ‘Yeb! Come and help. Rohk! Nilkka! Find Kaija.’ He pointed toward camp. ‘Get help. Go.’ And the wolves disappeared into the trees.
‘Do they understand?’ Tarin asked, and Luuka shrugged.
The hunters quickly started to gut the deer before the stomachs swelled and spoiled the meat. Tarin knelt over one of the deer and helped Narn slit the abdomen and break through the ribs. It was hard work but the young, strong Esi men worked swiftly. Tarin rolled the insides away from the deer meat while Narn lifted the carcass to drain the blood. Tarin rubbed his face wearily. Butchering was sometimes even harder than hunting. He had seen the men of Mammoth Clan gut the animals many times, but he had never been allowed to help.
You are too weak . . . You do not know what to do . . . You will spoil the meat . . .
He s
hook his head and helped Narn to strip the hide.
‘Hei O!’ A cry went up through the trees and Rohk and Nilkka bounded into the clearing, followed by Iva and Mohv. They stared at the fallen deer and bloodied hunters.
‘Good hunt,’ Roba said. ‘Spear thrower good.’
Iva cut thin, young branches of birch and quickly wove a makeshift sledge. While the sledge was loaded, Tarin stepped aside to wipe his bloodied hands on the grass with slow, deliberate care. His heart still pounded with the excitement of the hunt, but there was a sadness there, too, that he wanted to hide for a little while longer – at least until he had the chance to talk to Luuka and Kaija. He finished wiping his hands and looked up. Luuka was watching him.
He knows, Tarin thought. He knows it is time to go. He nodded at the question in Luuka’s eyes. Now, they knew that the clan would survive. Even if Yorv couldn’t hunt, there would be many successful hunts, thanks to the spear throwers. Tarin’s heart swelled. This would be their gift to Worj’s Clan. When Yorv and Narn had first carried them into the cave, bruised and battered, injured in body and spirit, they had no way of knowing how special the Esi clan would become to them, or how great their debt. It would have been enough just to survive the Winter, but they had been welcomed as family. He would make sure before they left that they also knew how to make the throwers.
Perhaps Yorv could become the master carver, shaping and smoothing the throwers for the hunters to use. Tarin would make sure he knew how to shape the flint spear points and lash them to the spears, too.
The hunters were preparing to leave and Tarin hurried forward to help.
It was time to leave, he thought, and together they marched back to the cave, the wolf pups proudly leading the way.
It was forty days since the birth of Novi’s baby girl and the clan were celebrating. Reindeer stew had been simmering all day and there was a fat trout, low-growing currants and ptarmigan eggs as well. Mohv and Zuuv had proudly found the eggs and now hovered hopefully as the food was ladled into closely woven baskets and serving dishes. The wolves waited with them, licking their lips and edging forward when they thought no one was looking.