by C. S. Bills
“What is it?” Yural asked as Attu wrapped a hide around himself and sighed. She reached up and touched his cheek. “You look tired.”
“No more than anyone else. How much longer do you think we should keep Rovek and Rika away from camp?”
“Ah... you think you can’t make this decision. Nor Rika. Your hearts are too involved to hear the spirits plainly.”
“Yes.”
“And mine is not? It’s not my decision to make. It is our healer’s.”
“Rika’s thinking about Mantouk’s death. We know that if she and Rovek haven’t gotten sick by now, the chances must be slim that any evil spirit sickness is in them. But Rika is afraid to put anyone else at risk.”
“Then I will pray about it, my son. When I have an answer, I’ll tell you. I, too, want our family to be reunited. And I worry about Keanu and Soantek, still weak and on the fringes of camp. They are so vulnerable...” she let her words trail off as she turned to meet his eyes.
Attu saw his own fear reflected in them.
The next nuknuk hunt was postponed for two days, so Kossu could have his hunter’s ceremony and join the men. While Attu waited for the day, he spent his time finishing his new ice bear tooth nuknuk spear and checking on the pups.
Attu sat beside Suanu in the huge snow house Bashoo had built for them. At first, Attu was confused at the size of the structure, a full arm’s length taller than the others in the camp. Then he’d laughed at his own confusion. This is how high Bashoo can reach. He’s made his snow house just like the others, but to fit him.
“How is your pup’s training coming along?” Attu asked. He watched the dog playing with a piece of hide near the sleeping platforms. She had grown considerably since being rescued, but still had the gangly look of a young animal. Her fur was much like her mother’s, black on her back, with strong brown patches on her face and upper legs, white on her lower legs and belly. The contrasts in color had increased as the pup grew, and Attu was fascinated with how one color stopped and another began with little or no blending.
“She is remarkable looking, isn’t she?” Suanu had apparently noticed Attu’s interest in the pup’s coloring. “Watch,” Suanu added. “Come, Dog.”
The pup came to her side. Suanu motioned with her hand and the dog lay near her. She motioned again, the hunter’s signal for “wait,” and the dog sighed and rested her head on her paws. “She will stay there until I tell her to get up,” Suanu said.
Attu was impressed. He pushed his mind toward the dog, to hear her thoughts as he did for mind speak. He felt her contentment at being beside this other female, but also as he listened, he sensed an edge of hunger, which was mounting. The meat in the cooking skins smelled so good. But she must not touch it. The female beside her was lead dog. She decided when the pack ate.
Attu relayed the information he’d gleaned to Suanu. She didn’t seem surprised. “She’d better think of me as lead dog. I do control the meat.”
They laughed.
Bashoo came in through the entrance tunnel, smiling when he saw Attu. The pup began to rise, but a look from Suanu was all it took to make her lie flat again. Her tail wagged back and forth furiously, and she whined. Suanu smiled and gave a quick flicking signal as if to say, “Enough, Dog. Go play.”
The pup launched herself at Bashoo and licked Bashoo’s face while the big man held her off the ground. He sat down, still holding the pup, and she wriggled in his lap until he pulled out a piece of dried meat from his pocket. The pup stilled, looking at him expectantly. “Watch this,” he said, sounding much like Suanu.
Bashoo held out the piece of meat. The pup sat, her whole body vibrating with excitement, but she held in place. Bashoo set the piece of meat on the pup’s snout.
Attu popped his lips as the pup held steady and did not eat the meat. Attu could feel her tension as he reached out to the pup’s mind again. But he also felt a sense of satisfaction. She knew what was coming next, and knowing gave her the confidence to hold still while the aroma of the meat in her nostrils made her salivate.
“All right,” Bashoo said, and the treat disappeared into the pup’s mouth. She jumped up, wagging her tail in delight. Then she sat, eyeing Bashoo expectantly, ready for him to set more meat on her snout.
Bashoo ruffled her neck fur and laughed. Brovik awoke and scrambled from the furs where he’d been napping, leaping much like the pup had onto Bashoo’s lap. The three of them wrestled.
“This is how my man spends his time, playing like a pup with our son,” Suanu tried to sound as if she were annoyed, but Attu heard the pride in her voice and saw the adoration in her eyes for this bear of a man who had rescued her baby from the river and had filled their lives to overflowing with his love.
Veshria had trained their pup much as Suanu had, and Ganik took the dog wherever he went. The pup wanted nothing more than to bring back sticks the boy threw or wrestle with him in the snow. This pup was large, twice the size of the others, and there was a wildness in his mind that was absent from the two females. When Attu walked over to Veshria’s shelter, Ganik was playing with a small sled. He held a rope in his hands, the other tied over the dog’s shoulders. At his command, the large grey pup pulled and the sled moved across the ground, Ganik balancing precariously on it. As Attu watched, the sled picked up speed.
Then a movement in the snow beside them caught the pup’s attention and he veered to the right. Ganik flew sideways off the sled and landed face first on a jumble of snow and rocks.
“Are you all right?” Attu rushed over to the boy. But Ganik was already pulling himself up, laughing. “That was fun!” He ran after the pup, who was dragging the sled around in circles, biting at the rope.
Still reckless. But Attu couldn’t help smiling. Now we know at least one pup will pull.
Tingiyok was working on a new spear. The small dark female pup was curled on some furs on the sleeping platform. She raised her head when Attu entered, calling out the familiar greeting, but a look from Tingiyok was all it took for her to relax again. She stretched out on her side and fell back asleep.
Attu compared Tingiyok’s pup to Suanu’s. She was the smallest of the three, black, lighter only on her underside, which was grey. Unlike the other female, this pup had a thick ruff of fur around her neck, and he knew her tail was also thicker, lighter at the end, but still much darker than her sister. As if the pup had heard his thoughts, she moved from her side into a tight ball, curling her furry tail around her front paws and face. Now the pup’s tail resembled the fur around the Nuvik’s hoods.
Tingiyok set his weapon aside. “You are here about the pup. Suanu told me you’d finally gotten around to checking on them.” He raised his hand before Attu could speak. “Her words, not mine.”
“How is your pup?” Attu knew Tingiyok understood why he’d had no time for the pups until now. Attu settled on some furs near the nuknuk lamp, which, like his own without a woman to tend to it, was only burning with half its regular flame.
“Warm Fur is doing well.”
“You have named her?”
“Yes. Did you know the pups’ first teeth are falling out?” Tingiyok held up a sharp-pointed tooth. It was so small Attu had to look closely at it before he recognized it as being a tooth and not a sliver of bone. “Much larger teeth are coming in behind them. It seemed an important enough development, from pup teeth to true hunter teeth, to warrant a naming. And she is a warm fur in this old man’s bed at night.” Tingiyok grinned. “When I touched her mind, she agreed to the name. She likes her fur to be warm. Some mornings I have to pull her from the sleeping platform.”
As if in response, the pup rolled to her side again, pushing her body deeper into the furs beside Tingiyok.
“Then Warm Fur she is,” Attu agreed. “And your mind speech with her?”
“Is more like impressions of senses and some thoughts. She does know a few words, ones I’ve used enough for her to understand, but she thinks in images, remembrances of what she’s seen and
experienced.”
“Much like the impressions I get when I mind blend with animals.”
“I think so, from what you’ve told me. I can send her an image of what I want her to do, and she’ll do it.” The Elder grinned his nearly toothless smile. “Most of the time.”
The old man sat back. “It’s curious, though. She sees things differently than we do. The white snow shows up brightly in her mind, as well as the white of the rabbit furs this time of the seasons. But the red of blood she sees looks brown in my mind, and the blue of the unfrozen water in the river looks brighter, like the white.”
“Do you think she sees as well as we do?”
“Better, when it’s dark. She sees movement before I do. And she can find animals by their smell. I’ve already speared two rabbits just because I followed her as she followed their scent trail. It’s hard to hold her back, but she will approach quietly with the promise of her share of the meat, and she seems to have been born knowing to come from downwind toward prey.” Tingiyok sat back.
“I know you have done much with Warm Fur,” Attu said, hoping his tone conveyed his thanks as he made his decision. “Would you consider taking on the job of continuing to train all the pups – with the others’ help, of course – eventually teaching them all to pull sleds and hunt with us? Guard us?”
“And do what we ask with mind speech. Yes.” Tingiyok pulled his shoulders back, pleasure lighting his face. “I will gladly accept this responsibility.” Attu rose with Tingiyok and pounded the man’s back in a quick hunter’s embrace.
Attu stood with his Clan, the men in an inner circle, the circle of women behind them as the words were spoken over Kossu. The fresh tattoo of the People of the Waters stood out on Kossu’s bicep, and the rest of his body shone with nuknuk fat. His hair was now braided in the single braid of a man, the end cut off and ready for the fire. The shadows made Kossu appear taller and older as he stood, proud and lean, in his place beside the blaze.
All members of the Clan were present to witness the hunter’s ceremony. Attu saw Trika nearby, her son Chonik at her side. She looked sad, but also determined. Attu knew she wanted her son to see this ceremony he would one day have to look forward to, but Attu also knew Trika’s grief must cut like a knife, knowing her son no longer had a father to walk with him from childhood to manhood.
Even Soantek had insisted on coming, knowing how important this was to the Clan. He sat, wrapped in furs, at a small fire Keanu had built far enough away from the gathering not to endanger anyone, but so they could still see. She sat beside him. Both looked wan, but they were recovering. Attu thanked Attuanin again for sparing their lives.
Yural spoke the words, and Veshria, Ganik, and Tishria each placed a hand on Kossu’s chest, fresh with the blood of his last kill, as Kossu pledged to hunt for them all until he took a woman of his own. Rusik threw Kossu’s hair into the fire, and lips popped as it erupted in a quick flame of many colors.
“A good omen,” Ubantu announced, and the others agreed. Then everyone was surrounding Kossu, clapping him on the back and congratulating him.
If Rusik were any prouder, I think he would burst, Attu mind spoke to Rika. She stood at the edge of camp, longing to be right in the middle of things. He was showing her what he could.
Kossu is a son to be proud of, she replied. May our son be like Kossu when he is grown.
“I thought I had it,” Tingiyok said.
Attu and the other hunters were gathered around Tingiyok, Suka, and Kossu, looking at Tingiyok’s latest attempt at bow making.
“What’s wrong this time?” Suka asked.
“The wood has enough spring in it, but that’s the problem.” Tingiyok showed them three bows he had made. “This one is new. Looks good, right?” He pulled on the bowstring and the bow bent well. He let it go, and the string twanged viciously.
Lips popped.
“But look,” Tingiyok said. “This one has been pulled a few times.” He showed them the second bow, which was more bent than the first one. “And this one. I’ve shot it about twenty times.” He held up a bow so bent that even strung, the bowstring was limp.
“This is so frustrating,” Suka said, examining the third bow. “Either the wood is too hard and it breaks, or it’s too flexible and won’t hold its shape.” He handed Tingiyok back the ruined bow.
“I’m not sure there’s any wood left to try,” one of the other hunters said. The men turned away, discouraged.
“I’ll keep trying,” Kossu said, his eyes fierce with determination as he spoke to Attu. “I won’t give up. There has to be wood somewhere that will work. The thieves’ bows didn’t come from the Between.”
Attu couldn’t help but admire the young hunter’s determination. “I’m counting on someone finding it.” Attu grasped Kossu’s shoulder in encouragement before turning back toward his shelter. “I’m not sure what we’ll do if we don’t,” he murmured to himself, feeling his own discouragement at Tingiyok’s latest failure.
“I believe the spirits of sickness will be gone from Soantek once his sores have scabbed over and he hasn’t run a fever for at least half a moon.” Yural stood near Attu, speaking with Rika from a safe distance. “But it has been long enough for you and Rovek. I believe you can both return.”
“Now?” Rika sounded unsure.
“I know of no evil spirit of sickness that can exist in the air alone for longer than half a moon. Soantek has been recovering for many days now. In a few days, it will be a half moon since he had a fever. Then we can be sure the evil spirits of sickness have left him. For you and Rovek, it’s been a full moon. You must be safe.”
My children. My man. My home. Rika’s mind overflowed into Attu’s. And then she ran into his arms.
“I’ll tell Rovek.” Yural grinned and turned away.
Chapter 13
Attu shared a nuknuk hole with Rusik. He’d been pleased to see the man had learned from his first few hunts and now stood back from the hole at a reasonable distance. Attu had thought Rusik would want to hunt with his son, but Rusik said Kossu was nervous and preferred hunting with Suka and Tingiyok his first time out with the other men.
Attu understood. “I wanted to prove myself to my father so badly that I botched my first few nuknuk hunts, throwing my spear too soon and scaring away any game that came close.”
Rusik laughed. “I may do that as well. This is so different from hunting game on land like we Seers always did. My son may well bring a nuknuk home to his mother before I do.”
Attu heard the pride in Rusik’s voice. So far, Rusik hadn’t been able to spear his own nuknuk. But he desires his son’s success in the hunt over his own. He is a good father and a true hunter.
Rusik still had trouble crouching and remaining motionless, but Attu knew such ability required much practice for most hunters. They sat opposite the hole now, and Attu’s mind drifted while his eyes and ears remained alert.
Finally, a bubble broke the surface. Attu’s spear shot out and was first to hit the nuknuk. Rusik’s spear followed. The two men grabbed their ropes and pulled, each at an angle away from the other, but both in the same direction away from the hole.
“We have only angered it,” Attu hollered as the two pulled on the thrashing nuknuk. “We hit no vital organs. Be careful of its tusks.”
Rusik had a huge grin on his face as he pulled, and Attu remembered the thrill of the first few times he’d speared one of these large animals. Even now, Attu still felt a surge of excitement at the kill.
Attu stopped pulling when he thought they were far enough onto solid ice. He approached the animal cautiously. It had stopped thrashing, but was breathing heavily, and there was little blood. Attu pulled at the rope connected to his spear. He knew he needed to spear it again before getting any closer.
“No!” Attu shouted, as Rusik rushed past him toward the now-still nuknuk. “He’s not-”
Rusik screamed as the animal thrashed its powerful head and caught his lower leg with its tusks. At
tu heard a sickening ripping sound as the tusks tore through Rusik’s hide pants and into his muscles. Rusik fell, and the animal rose up on its front flippers, arching its head back and striking Rusik’s chest and abdomen with its twin points of sharpened bone. Rusik screamed again, then fell silent.
Attu pulled his spear loose and hauled it in by its rope. He threw it again, catching the animal in the side and forcing it to turn away from Rusik. He pulled out his killing club. Attu knew he could be impaled as easily as Rusik had been, but he had to remove the threat. The animal might strike Rusik again in its anger. Rusik groaned and rolled to his side.
“Don’t move!” Attu shouted. Attu waved his arms, making loud noises to attract the nuknuk’s attention. It worked. The huge animal turned toward Attu, glaring at him as Attu approached, raising its head to Attu’s height and daring him to come any closer. Attu darted to the animal’s side and struck it on the back of the head as hard as he could, then speared it again.
The nuknuk swung its head around, barely missing Attu’s legs with its tusks. The blow was hard, however, and the nuknuk dropped its head after it turned. Attu took the chance and pulled out his spear, causing the animal to thrash again. But Attu could see the nuknuk was weakening. Attu dodged its tusks a second time and plunged his spear through the animal’s ribs from the back into its heart. The nuknuk dropped like a stone. Attu clubbed it again, in the killing spot this time, just to be sure. Then he stood for a few breaths, his sides heaving from the exertion, before he turned back to where Rusik lay in a pool of blood on the snow.
“Rusik?” Attu asked, kneeling beside the man, cupping the hunter’s face in his hands.
Movement to the side caught Attu’s attention. Kossu, Suka, and Tingiyok were racing toward them across the ice, careful even in this emergency to follow the tracks Attu and Rusik had left.
“Your son is coming. Hang on,” Attu said.
Rusik tried to roll onto his back again, and Attu helped him. Rusik took in a deep shuddering breath, and Attu thought he was about to speak, but then Rusik’s body relaxed and he stared sightless toward the grey skies above the frozen bay. As Rusik’s eyes glazed over in the Between of death, Attu gently closed them.