by A. K. Vyas
Both men could see it in his eyes. This was the harsh reality of hunting big game with spear and club. The Spearmaker handed him a cool, leather water pouch. The little hunter took it but couldn’t open it. His hands were shaking. Chief Sev gently took the pouch and opened it. Bret took a long, slow drink and emptied the rest over his head.
“Bad day,” Bret said in a shaky voice.
Aash and the Chief nodded in patient silence. The little hunter threw the empty water pouch down. His usual sprightly eyes were resigned.
“They’re all gone. Dak’s whole team. The herd tore us apart,” Bret said in a hollow voice.
Aash put his arm on the little hunter’s shoulder. Bret looked down at the ground then handed him Zig’s unused water pouch. The little hunter went on in a tired old voice.
“We were in perfect position. The herd walked right into the kill zone. We lit the ambush. All except Zig. I think the heat got him during the stalk. His section of the line wasn’t lit. The Old White Bull headed for this gap instead of the cliff. They stampeded all over us. No place to run. There’s nothing left of them. We didn’t even get a single spear in one. Dak saved me. One hot day. Five brave hunters. A herd of bison.”
Life was hard for the People.
Aash wordlessly felt the stark dryness of Zig’s water pouch. He handed it to the Chief. Both men quickly figured it out, just as Bret had.
“Get some rest, Bret. I’ll send a team out for them before the Spirit Ceremony,” Chief Sev said.
Bret limped away in dejected silence. This is the hunter’s code. All for one. One for all. No man was left behind. No matter what. Living or dead. Your brothers would bring you home.
Emil saw Bret and grinned innocently. He ran over to his limping friend, checking for wounds.
“I have some fresh berries, Bret!” said the boy joyfully. Emil set aside a hare Cloud had caught and retrieved for him.
The little hunter’s hands had stopped shaking. He graciously accepted the berry pouch and sat silently on a log. As a rule, days like this were never discussed outside the circle of hunters.
Emil chirped away about his day. The boy described the races that day. He told Bret about the great new berry bush they’d found. Emil described a new wrestling move he wanted to try on Kilan. Bret wordlessly forced down a few berries with a listless look at Cloud’s catch.
The little hunter’s tired eyes crinkled at Emil’s oblivious chipper chattering. The boy told his friend a silly old joke about finding a worm in an apple. Emil hugged the little hunter and ran off to play. Bret smiled despite himself. He thanked Emil silently and went to rest.
This was the answer. This is why we do it, Bret decided. The little ones are worth days like this. We’re here to protect them, but they keep us safe too.
Emil ran over to Papa. The Spearmaker was repairing a shaky spear wrapping.
“When I’m a hunter, Papa, I want Cloud on my team!” Emil said. “He caught us a hare today! Papa, I think Bret is sad. What happened today?”
Papa answered, “Tough day, Babo. We lost a hunting team to the bison.”
“All of them?” Emil asked incredulously.
Papa responded quietly, “Some days you get the bear, and some days the bear gets you.”
The day’s events spread darkly across the village. Anger and disbelief at the loss of an entire hunting team sparked strong emotion and calls for scrutiny. The evening meal was too quiet. By dawn, the village was seething.
Bron, the strongest hunter of the People, and Zig’s big brother called for an immediate hunters’ council that morning. They met in Chief Sev’s Gher. A noticeably dejected Bret solemnly recounted the hunt’s details. The Chief began talk of the Spirit Ceremony for the fallen, when Bron stood up with a derisive snort, and turned to leave the Gher.
Chief Sev commanded, “Bron, if you need to say something, say it now, in the open for all of your brother hunters to hear.”
Bron said it harshly.
“This makes no sense to me. An entire hunting team? Dak was too good, and my brother, well I trained him myself… he’d never make this mistake. Why is it only Bret survives? The one responsible for initiating the ambush. He’s not even on a hunting team. And well…we know he fears the hunt. I’m thinking it was not Zig’s mistake.”
Bret stood, reaching for his dagger. Cowardice was the supreme insult for a hunter, followed closely by lying. The little hunter’s voice had a hard edge. “Bron, you talk the talk, do you walk the walk? Prove it.”
Bron laughed contemptuously. “Hunters don’t fight children, little man. Maybe the Spearmaker needs an assistant. You’re no hunter, we all know this.”
Chief Sev dressed down the room in a commanding tone. “Both of you idiots stand down. We’ve just lost five hunters! Five! Now two more of my hunters want to kill each other? Bron, you are way out of line here. Zig’s water pouch had never been filled, mistake one. Then the second mistake was a tragic one: he was too proud. It’s just as Bret said. The Spearmaker saw this clearly as well.” Everyone trusts Aash, thought Chief Sev. He’ll defuse this nonsense.
All eyes turned to Aash. He responded in a calm, even voice.
“It’s true. Zig’s water pouch was never filled. Zig was a good man, and my heart aches for your family, Bron. You couldn’t be more wrong here, though, brother. Bret did his duty. Mighty Bron, you were an excellent second spear to me. Think this through. Like a team leader must…”
Bron’s dismissive look cut through the Spearmaker’s pacifying words. He turned, disgruntled, to leave again.
Aash’s voice ratcheted into command tone, stopping Bron in midstep.
“Bron, one more thing. We all fear the hunt. We’ve all seen what’s out there. Anyone who says different is a fool. Bret does his duty as well as anyone here. He consistently makes meat. It’s your right to challenge Bret, and his to demand satisfaction. This bad blood will be pure disaster for your family. This isn’t wrestling, Bron. Bret will end you. Of this I’m sure…and if he doesn’t today… I will tomorrow.”
The entire Gher was shocked by this final statement.
Bron turned back to Aash incredulously. “You take his side over mine, brother, after everything we’ve hunted together, after all the times we bled as a team?”
The Spearmaker’s voice was even keeled. He stood up slowly next to Bret.
“Let this go, Bron. There are no sides here—we are the People. The last thing we need now is this false, divisive poison spreading. This is madness and beneath you, Bron. This is a threat to the People. I will end it if need be. You have my word.”
Chief Sev blasted the entire Gher.
“AASH, SHUT UP! There will be no more talk of this! There will be no fighting. I’ll banish anyone who disobeys. Bron, it was Zig’s fault, not Bret’s. Take the pain. Get over it. Stop this chaos—we have to figure out a way to feed the People. Winter is coming.”
The hunting teams left to do their duty. Bret turned to Aash and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you, brother,” the little hunter said. The Spearmaker nodded warmly in response. The little hunter left to hunt as well. Chief Sev and the Spearmaker were the only ones remaining in the Gher.
“Aash, what has gotten into you? I was counting on you, the son of The Eagle Feather, to be the voice of reason, to help me nip this idiocy in the bud before it gets out of hand,” Chief Sev admonished.
“Yes sir,” replied the Spearmaker. “I tried that, Bron wasn’t buying it. Then I gave it to him straight, in terms they’d all understand. The People come first.”
“Agreed,” the Chief eventually said, then he changed topics. “Do you think we should reorganize the teams, and if so, how?” This discussion lasted into midday and the Spearmaker returned to his cache of broken spears.
Emil finished his chores in the scalding sun and brought his father a water pouch. Papa thanked Babo and scratched the back of Cloud’s ear. The fiery heat was shimmering up in hazy waves off the grassy plain.
Papa peered at the glossy horizon for a long moment, then studied his son and the white wolf. Aash brushed his hand over Emil’s forehead. “Drink more water, Babo—the sun is angry today,” Papa said.
Emil brought Papa another glistening fresh water pouch. The boy drank deeply and ran off with his white wolf. He sipped water while watching his son and Cloud play fetch with a stick. The white wolf obeyed Emil’s every command. Papa imagined a pack of the People’s wolves corralling a herd of bison toward the cliff.
Emil’s right. I’ve seen wolves panic prey into ambush. A wolf pack is the ultimate hunting team. There is something to this, Papa thought. Can we train Cloud to do this for us? If we use fire, wolves, and brave hunters, why not? We need more wolf cubs…
Five good men.
Gone with the wind.
There has to be a better way.
Chapter Four
“He who doesn’t go to war roars like lions” -Rajput Proverb
Jungle Lore
Banks of silvery morning mist floated up through the forest as the false dawn gave way to the true. The melodious songs of the night loons yielded to the cheerful chirping of the day birds. There had been no sign of the Sabretooth in six moon cycles.
Papa felt the first twinge of chill in the air. He hoisted his ash spear and motioned for Emil to quietly follow into the woods. Emil and Cloud followed Papa until they were deep in dark canopy. They sky was barely visible and they could only hear the birds chirping from the branches above. Papa sat still, holding Cloud and made the silence sign. After a while, the bird chirping died down and then stopped. Cloud sniffed something and went off stalking down the hill. The birds began chirping again at this movement.
Papa asked his boy:
“Did you see how the birds started chirping when Cloud moved? As quiet as a wolf glides, the birds see all. Use the birds. They will tell you if you are stalking or being stalked. Babo, the ability to stay perfectly still is the most important skill in the forest. Even if the wind is against you, even if you are seen, you have a chance if the animal or enemy is confused.”
Emil observed, “So, Papa, we should first stop still in thick forest until the birds go quiet. Then, if we hear the birds again, some animal or person is moving close.”
Papa smiled. “Good.”
Papa pointed to a bush on the far side of the valley and asked Emil what he saw. Emil noticed, “A bunch of little birds are flying up out of the bush.”
Papa asked, “Why are they doing that, Emil? Which way are they flying?”
Emil thought about it and offered, “Something spooked them, there must be another animal very close to that bush now. They flew away west. It’s coming from the east.”
“Exactly, Babo,” replied Papa, “this is how to think. Now why does Cloud hunt so well?”
“He can run really fast, Papa, and has sharp teeth, and can smell things very far away,” said Emil.
“Exactly,” said Papa. “Predators and prey animals have better senses of smell than us, but the wind is also our friend. Now let’s imagine you are a tiger or a bear.” Emil gave his best growl.
Papa grinned. “So, if a bear wanted to hunt something in that bush, how should it stalk?”
“Upwind,” noted Emil. “I mean it should stalk, so the wind is blowing in its face.”
They watched Cloud emerge into a clearing below upwind, silently stalking into heavy bushes. Emil noticed, “Papa, Cloud is hunting into the wind just like you said!”
“Good,” observed Papa, “Now let’s say you are hunting something dangerous, a tiger, alone. Where is the most danger?”
“Everywhere!" Emil exclaimed.
Papa snorted darkly.
“Yes, Babo, only fools hunt tigers alone. Imagine the hunt from the cat’s point of view. Prey animals have a great sense of smell. It will always try to approach into the wind. When stalking alone, it’s impossible for one person to track and watch all four directions. You don’t have to. The predator danger is from two areas that you aren’t watching, downwind and behind you. Imagine the wind is blowing from your left to right. As you track you can see in front of you. The greatest danger is to your right or behind you. The wind shows you the danger direction. You know where it will likely come from.”
Emil recounted: “First we go quiet and listen for the birds, then if it’s an animal we know how it uses the wind. Papa, you are so smart!”
Aash laughed and admitted, “No, little one, I didn’t think of all this. Your opa taught me this, just as I am teaching you. Do you remember his name?”
Papa knelt down so they were eye to eye.
“His name was Kishor, little one, and the most important thing he taught me is real men are strong and gentle, Emil. Always remember this, my son. A real man is strong because life is hard. He supports his family and friends and fights fiercely for them when needed. However, mostly he’s gentle. He is kind and respectful to others. I’ve learned the best warriors aren’t the biggest, strongest, or loudest, but men like this. There is nothing deadlier than a good man fighting for his family or friends. You need both strength and compassion, Emil. This balance is vital in life. One is useless without the other. Always remember this.”
“Strong and gentle,” Emil repeated. “Strong and gentle.”
“Emil, it isn’t easy to live this way. We must constantly work at both,” Papa recalled.
Papa cupped his hand under Emil’s chin. “I see all of this in you already, Emil. You will be a better man than your papa in every way. Be smarter, stronger, and kinder. You must work at this constantly and never, never, never quit.”
A nearby bush parted as Cloud returned with a small water bird in his mouth. He dropped it at Emil’s feet with a toothy grin. Emil scratched the back of Cloud’s head behind the ears and hugged the young white wolf’s shaggy neck. Papa picked up the water bird and inspected it. Cloud had stalked and killed it cleanly, but brought it back untouched for Emil. Papa watched the two of them, slowly shaking his head in amazement.
One bright sunny morning, Emil and Papa went out looking for flint stones. Cloud stayed with Mama and the boys hunting eggs. Before leaving, Emil took Cloud’s head in his arms, ordering, “Guard Mama and the boys.” Cloud licked Emil’s face and obeyed. Mama and Papa both beamed, watching their little son and his white wolf.
The sun was now a heavy orange fireball high in the late summer sky. Papa led the way into the wooded thicket as shimmering waves of fiery heat reflected off the parched brown grass. They squinted up to see birds circling over the next small hill. A massive hairy boar carcass lay on the ground ahead. A glossy black raven cawed loudly in a nearby apple tree. Papa had an uncomfortable thought. He quickly helped Emil climb the nearest tree. He said, “Wolves are coming, little one—be still and learn their wisdom.” Emil was confused.
A large pack of wolves treaded cautiously out of the forest, into the clearing. They sniffed the wind then began savagely devouring the carcass. As the pack left, the raven came down from the tree and finished off the greasy scraps.
“Papa, did the raven tell the wolves about the boar?” asked Emil.
Papa nodded. “Yes, Babo, wolves and ravens have a pact. The ravens from up high can see almost everything. The wolves have the sharp teeth needed to break tough animal hides. They help each other. This way both eat together what they couldn’t see or eat alone.”
Emil and Papa often spent time quietly observing wildlife from trees. Emil learned the language of the forest. All forest creatures have several distinct calls depending on the situation. The People could identify and imitate them all, and in time so could Emil.
Emil came to grasp the incredible value of just sitting perfectly still, listening intently, and quietly watching the environment around you. He learned which plants and fruit were good to eat, and which were poisonous. The boy absorbed which plants to squeeze over an open wound, and the ones to chew if you had a bellyache.
Emil was learning fast. They’d occasio
nally spend moonlit nights in a tall tree. Papa taught Emil many predators are nocturnal, especially the big cats. One clear, starry night they were in a tree by the river. The toads were croaking as the crickets chirped up a storm. They heard the shrill screech of an alarmed monkey. Emil whispered, “Papa, that is a monkey warning call. He must be in a tree by the water. He’s seen a panther or a tiger stalking close.”
The night suddenly came alive in a concert of sounds. Hearing the monkey, a spotted deer whistled its warning call, “Phreww, Phreww!” The fear spread to a peacock who let out a disturbed call of “Miaooo, Miaooo!” The whole forest was alarmed and alert. The toads near the bank stopped croaking; even the crickets were now silent. Every animal in the jungle knew the same thing. Beware, a stalking tiger is near!
Emil heard fierce growling echo melodiously through the trees. Then followed shrieks of scattering monkeys. An agonized, abrupt wail shot through the darkness. Emil gave Papa a befuddled look. All the animals had plenty of warning to escape the big cat.
Papa whispered, “Tigers do this to monkeys. The monkeys see the cat and are perfectly safe up in a big tree. The cat roars fiercely and scrapes the tree. The terrorized monkeys think it can reach them. Some panic and jump to switch trees, and the tiger usually catches one.”
The forest sounds had told them this story. It was as if they’d seen it in broad daylight instead of hearing it by moonlight. Emil knew a stalking tiger had been spotted by the monkeys. This was between his tree and the river. The cat passed by north of Emil’s tree at some distance. It then spooked the deer and peacocks. Then it circled back to the riverbank before returning to the monkey trees. The wind even told him the tiger had stalked the monkey tree from the east. Emil pointed to his palm to indicate their location. He traced a finger around it to show the beat the tiger had stalked. Papa checked the wind. He put a proud hand on Emil`s shoulder, smiling in the darkness.
“Competence makes bravery easier, Emil. Put the time in. The People respect this. Finally, when things get crazy, make sure you don’t. Knowledge can help with this.”