Pell stopped him, “No. I’ll be gone tomorrow night.”
At this statement, Gontra’s eyes flashed a look of dismay, but he called for thongs and set about tying the healer up. As he worked, he demonstrated the knots for Pell, first tying Pont’s hands behind him. Then Gontra dragged him to his feet and marched him to the back of the cave. There he forced him to the ground and began tying his feet together. Then he tied each of Pont’s bonds to pieces of firewood, small enough that the healer could move them, but large enough that moving them would take effort and make noise. They laid dry twigs and grasses about Pont and placed bedding of grass and furs for Gontra and Pell between Pont and the rest of the Aldans.
Meanwhile, the women had eagerly set about butchering the boar and preparing a small feast. Pell had eaten some of his smoked meat just before he and Gontra arrived and, not wanting to incur any obligation by partaking in the feast, he pled weariness and lay down in his place in front of Pont to sleep.
Despite his pleas, he thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep because of the excitement of the day’s events. Lessa brought Pont some of the food and fed it to him though neither of them spoke. The next thing he knew, Pell was waking, freezing cold, just as dawn broke outside.
He checked to be sure that Pont was still securely bound, then stepped around Gontra and went out to empty his bladder. The sky was clear, the last stars were fading and, it was bitingly cold. He stamped his feet, passed his water and came back in to stoke the fire. He sat before it trying to warm back up and decided to leave as soon as he could decently get away. He couldn’t help thinking morbidly of all the problems this little tribe faced, the worse for the loss of two of its hunters. He wanted to get away and back to his own, simpler problems. Perhaps he could send some spirit meat back with Belk when Belk had recovered enough to return? For now, Pell just wanted to get away. In fact, his feet were nearly warm. Perhaps he could get out before they awakened and not even have to be reminded of their despair as they woke and set about the new day. He set about assembling his things.
He was nearly packed and ready to go when Gontra woke and saw him getting ready. “No, Pell, don’t go! Tonday! Exen! Ontru! Lenta! Pell’s getting ready to leave!” The others bolted up out of their own sleeping nests, exclaiming. Soon the entire camp was up, even the children who, disturbed by the adult’s emotional displays, began crying. Pell’s heart filled with despair as they began to beg him to stay. One of the women cried, “The children will starve without your help.”“We don’t have enough hunters.”“The hunting has been so bad.”
“We talked until late last night. We want you to be the new leader now that Roley is dead.”
“We know that you have become a great hunter and a mighty shaman. Please, save us.”
“Please?” Pell looked over at Pont, whose sullen glare told him that he certainly couldn’t remain safely with the Aldans while the healer still lived. Though Roley’s second wife, Ontru, was pleading for Pell to stay, he could see that hate remained in the eyes of Fellax. He turned to Lessa, who was begging him to stay and said, “Look Lessa, deep into the heart of your husband, Pont. Can you truly tell me that I will be welcome here?”
She looked over at Pont, then turned and looked out to the horizon, biting her lip. A tear formed and rolled down her cheek, but she said nothing.
He looked over them all, catching each one’s eye in turn, “I must go. I’m not welcomed here by some and, truth be to tell, I like my new home and my new tribe. When Belk is healthy enough to travel, we’ll send some meat back with him. Some of our ‘spirit meat that doesn’t rot’ so that you will have something for when your hunts don’t work out. Maybe without Denit leading your hunts your luck will improve.”
“No! Then take us with you. Let us join your tribe. We will do whatever you say.”
“I’m not the leader of my new tribe. I have learned many good things from Agan, our leader, but one is that she leads from her own wisdom, not through others’ dread, like Roley did. Agan may be an old woman, but she is wise and therefore mighty. So it would not be up to me to decide whether you could join us. It is not even up to Agan. She would consult with everyone in our tribe before she decided.”
Gontra stared at Pell incredulously, “Pell, I’ve seen the way they look at you there. If you asked, they would take us. They would do anything you asked.”
Taken aback, Pell considered. Could Gontra’s estimation of his own influence be true? He shook his head, “Even if that were true Gontra, I won’t ask the members of my tribe to make an exception to their rules for me.” He looked around at all of their expectant hopeful faces, “I will put the question to them when I return. In the meantime I will stay two days and hunt for you. I will also teach you how to make your cave warmer.”
“Can you teach us to make the spirit meat?”
“Uhh… no, that is our tribe’s secret. I would have to ask the others before I could teach you that. But I will ask them.” Pell thought to himself with some irritation that it was his idea—he should be able to teach that secret if he wanted. But, Tando thought of the smoking process as a very important secret and—Tando was very important to Pell as a friend, so…
Pell spent an hour planning out a mud wattle closure for the cave. He looked at the cave opening and laid it out. Then he took members of the tribe out and showed them the kind of staves, sticks and grasses they would need to collect. He found some good mud at the stream’s edge and organized others to carry skins of it up to the cave. Then he borrowed some thongs and a hand axe and set out to lay some snares. He said he was going hunting and, when he did, Gontra and Exen wanted to come. He didn’t want them along, first because he didn’t want his image as a great hunter tarnished and second, because he wanted them to put in some labor improving the cave. Under Roley the hunters had lolled about watching the women and children doing the laborious chores. Pell felt that, since he’d been doing those chores for himself and then with Tando and Donte, it would do the hunters of his old tribe some good. He tried to deter them by explaining that his hunting technique required him to be alone to be successful. Then they became excited and wanted to learn this new technique, but he insisted that today they needed him to bring back some food and that to close off the cave opening the others in the cave needed their strong backs. Perhaps he could show them some other time?
As he walked about, setting snares, he thought of his dilemma with one mind and with another saw his old homeland around the Aldans’ cave in a different light. He had come to think of this area as “different” than his new home, as he had had so little success while hunting in the area when he was a boy (he thought of himself as a “boy” back then for, though it was only a Spring, Summer and a Fall ago, so much had happened that it seemed as if it were ages ago). Now he saw that it had all of the same kinds of wildlife that he regularly saw at Cold Springs. He saw the rabbit runs in the brambles and set snares in them. He noticed the game paths now, though they must have been there before. He used his traveling rope to drape nooses across two places where game paths narrowed next to sturdy trees. He perceived the tuber bearing plants, including one of the tubers that he had not known of before Cold Springs. He had discovered it when he was digging up every kind of plant looking for tubers, because he didn’t know what the tuber bearers looked like. A large number of them grew in one area, the parts of the plants that were above the ground were withered, but he saw no evidence that any of them had been dug up. He realized that the women of his old tribe must not recognize that this plant had an edible tuber, any more than he had known about that particular tuber before being cast out. He dug up an armload of the tubers to take back.
When he neared the cave, he saw that there was a large pile of staves and smaller sticks beside the entrance of the cave as well as mud and dried grass. It didn’t look like enough to wattle the opening though, and he was angered to see everyone sitting about the fire. He realized that they didn’t know how much would be needed. He should have told t
hem what to do next anyway. But Spirit! They should be out trying to hunt or gather if they didn’t have anything else to do! Were they just waiting for him to bring them some food?! He thought back on old times and realized that his old tribe had spent little of their time either trying to improve their lot, or to stock up for winter. If there wasn’t an immediate need, i.e. an empty stomach, they simply laid about relaxing. The women did try to stock up on tubers and grain for winter and the men would have a big hunt at the time of the expected first frost, but otherwise little thought went into their future. Perhaps the better situation of his little tribe at Cold Springs was more due to hard work than to good luck?
“Hey, it’s Pell,” called Gontra as he walked up.
Pell stopped before the fire and set down his armload of tubers. Exen snickered, “Look what the mighty hunter killed! Tubers!” He burst into a laugh.
Pell’s face darkened as he stood back up. Then he walked around the group, many of whom, even the women, were also smirking at this evidence of a man doing a woman’s job. He bent, swept his traveling gear into his carrying sling and stood, throwing it back over his shoulder. His gaze swept over the group, now looking apprehensive and uncomfortable. As they focused a moment on Exen, Pell’s eyes dripped contempt. Then he stepped back around them and headed out of the cave.
Gontra leapt to his feet, “Pell! Don’t leave! No, we’re sorry! Please, we need you!” But Pell stalked out of the cave and down the path towards his new home.
Exen stood as well, but only to grasp his father’s elbow and say, “Come on Gontra, let him go, we don’t need him.”
Gontra struck a backhanded blow that sent him flying into the gaggle of women behind him, then turned and shouted, “You… you are going to starve this winter without his help. Look at him! Is he skinny and wasted like you? No! He has been eating, eating very well! The Spirits themselves are on Pell’s side! I’ve seen what the spirits do to those, like Denit and Roley, who don’t respect him. He knows things that you desperately need to learn. Now get your ass down the hill, apologize to him, beg his forgiveness, and urge him to return… or… or… I’ll cast you out of this tribe myself! My own son or not, I swear I’ll cast you out for the harm you’ve just done to all of us!
Pell was far enough down the path in his rage that he heard Gontra yelling but not the substance of his words. When he heard someone running down the path behind him, he looked to see who came. Seeing Exen, he gathered himself to resist an assault. He was horrified when Exen fell to his knees, begging for him to return. His heart remained hard as the others came down the path behind Exen, also pleading. His heart melted however, when several of the children ran up to throw their arms about his thighs, sobbing piteously. Eventually he turned to climb back up to the cave again.
However, after returning to the cave he remained angry enough that he drove them relentlessly for the remainder of the day. It had warmed enough to make it a good day for building the wall to close the cave. He set some of the Aldans to getting more poles and mud, some to digging a little trench for the bottoms of the poles, others to stacking the poles in place and lashing them together. When most of the staves were in place he set groups to slathering on the mud, small sticks and straw. The stones that contained the fire were moved over beneath to an upsloping part of the cave roof. This upsloping area rose to their new wall, where they left a hole at the top of the wall for the smoke to exit. Some of the women were put to work stitching together a heavy drape of old skins to cover the entrance.
He took time to explain to each of them, including the men, what the leaves of the new tubers looked like and how to find them. When the new wall was nearing completion, he sent a small party out to find some. He enjoyed ordering Exen to join this group of “tuber hunters.”
Pell especially enjoyed driving Pont as hard as possible. Initially he had been angry when he realized the healer was untied, but Gontra explained that he thought that the healer should work as hard as all the rest of them. At the outset, Pont had sullenly tried to refuse some task Pell assigned him as too menial, but before Pell had a chance to react to Pont’s insolence, Gontra had cuffed the medicine man to the ground, threatening to cast him out or kill him immediately.
Lying on the ground, Pont had tried to bluster and threaten as in the past, “Gontra, you don’t want to treat your Medicine Man this way. Who’ll care for you when you’re ill?”
“Pell will. He’s a better healer than you ever dreamed of,” Gontra rasped out in a barely contained fury. Pell thought to protest that he wasn’t a healer but a bonesetter, but kept his peace.
Still lying on the ground Pont made some finger motions at Gontra and began to chant. Though Pell had no respect for Pont, he still felt a chill run up his spine at this “casting of an evil spell.” Gontra, however, was not intimidated. He stepped forward, delivering a huge roundhouse kick to Pont’s ribs that left him gasping for breath. “Chant around that, you boar’s turd! Try it again and I’ll cut your throat.” Shaking his head he muttered, “Should’a done it last night.”
It took Pont a while to recover, but since then he had complied immediately with Pell’s every demand. Pell had made a point from then on to assign him the most menial tasks he could think of. Pell pitched in and worked alongside the Aldans, though carefully far from the healer, wanting to provide no opportunities for an attack or even an “accident.” His excellent physical condition allowed him to work easily, even after the others were exhausted. They began to look on him with more and more awe. Soon the wall and door were in place. The cave was much darker and somewhat smokier, but already much warmer than before. The others noticed the difference before it was finished, exclaiming in delight. Pell showed them how to use a brand from the fire as a torch to see into the darker areas when necessary.
They finished a hard day of work with a feast composed of more of the small boar from the day before and a roasted version of the new tubers. While they ate Pell found himself giving them a little philosophy lesson about his concept that everyone should know how to gather and everyone should understand hunting and cooking well enough to do a little if pressed. When the men protested that the women couldn’t possibly have the strength for hunting he pointed out that they could still act as beaters, driving the large animals toward the men. They would certainly need such tactics in their decimated tribe. He also reminded them that not all animals were large and dangerous. “If I teach you my new methods for hunting, you will soon find that they work as well or better for small animals and that women can employ them as well as men. This is something that a small tribe like yours, with few men, should appreciate, not fight against.”
After eating, they spoke around the fire. First they talked of old times, then of plans for the future. Ginja, sitting at Pell’s side and being fed bits of roast pork was a source of unbridled curiosity. Questions about how he controlled her and how he communicated with the Great Wolf Spirit abounded and had to be dealt with. The Aldans’ conversation regarding the future contained some hope; hope instilled by a long hard day of work where everyone had pitched in and something of significance had been accomplished.
As the tribe prepared to sleep, Gontra tied Pont back up despite his protests. Initially they were protests of his innocent intentions, then of his importance. Finally, it degenerated into threats of what his magics would do to those who dared tie him. Pell worried that Gontra might buckle under the threats as so many had in the past but Gontra seemed unfazed, reminding him of his earlier threat. “Pont, you go ahead, start a spell on me, like I promised before, I’ll cut your throat before you finish.” Pell wondered what was to keep Pont from cursing Gontra during the night while he was asleep but apparently Gontra didn’t consider this to be possible with Pont’s hands tied behind his back. Hobbled and led to the back of the cave Pont shot Pell a venomous glance that chilled his blood.
When Ginja lay down to sleep she lay directly in contact with Pell’s legs. He found her presence reassuring.
&n
bsp; The next morning Pell awakened feeling well. He secretly delighted in rousting the others who were obviously sore from the previous day’s hard labor. He told them that he was going hunting again but that he expected them to be working while he was gone. When they protested he lambasted them about their laziness. “You tell me you’re worried about surviving the winter. You whine about how hungry you will be and cry about the children who might starve. Yet, you lie around as if you were a bunch of fat pigs. If you are fat, fine, but then don’t ask for my help. If you’re starving then work like you’re hungry pigs.” He set them to gathering firewood and, after criticizing Exen’s party of the day before for only bringing back a few of the new tubers, sent out more tuber parties. He explained his theory of dryness and air circulation as regarded the rotting of food and had some of the Aldans begin making shallower baskets to store food in, both their current stores as well as anything new. He even put the children to work, restacking their tubers and turning the grain that they had stored that summer, admonishing them to dry out any moist areas.
When he set out to check his traps with Ginja bounding at his side, he was in a banner mood. It was a brisk Winterfall morning and their breath puffed out before them. There was a little frost on the ground, but he remained warm in his thick new moccasins, furs and leggings. He even felt as if most of his old tribe members might survive the winter, with a few gifts of “magic meat” and some coaching in some of his new ideas.
He had been worried that the traps might not yield much so late in the fall. Hunting had always been hard late in the year except for the occasional bounty from the big herds migrating through on the high plains above the cave. Sometimes they could be trapped in a location where it could be driven over the cliffside into one of the ravines. Usually several large animals would break their legs and could be killed. If the winter freeze had already occurred or occurred soon thereafter, the meat might keep almost all winter. Of course he had never had any experience trapping in the late fall, but hadfeared that the success rate would fall off drastically as some species began to hibernate and fewer animals were out and about. He was gratified to find a rabbit in the very first snare. The next several were empty but then he found that he had snared three squirrels who had used the previous warm afternoon to try to collect a few more nuts for winter. Finally one of the two large nooses he had made from his traveling rope had a young deer in it. The deer had broken its own neck trying to get away, so he didn’t even have to spear it. Finding that it was very difficult to carry all of the animals at once he cleaned all four animals, then put the hearts, livers and smaller animals into the deer’s abdominal cavity. He thought to sling the deer over his shoulders as he had the young boar several days before, but didn’t want to get blood all over himself from the wound he had made to clean the deer. Remembering the one-ended stretchers from the move they had planned at Cold Springs, he cut two poles and tied the deer between them. He started back, dragging the poles behind him down a game trail. This is surprisingly easy, he thought. He was almost back to the cave when he thought to stop and stick his spear into the deer’s ribs to cover his “hunting” story. Then he struck the smaller animals with rocks, thinking to himself that he had never even heard of someone killing three squirrels with thrown rocks in one day.
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