by A. K. Vyas
“What does ‘is this virtue or vanity’ mean, Papa?” asked Emil.
“Virtue is simply doing the right thing; vanity is doing something so you feel good about it,” replied Papa. “This is a simple but good test question our ancestors asked before making decisions. Think on this, my son.”
Papa asked Emil, “Have you been training for the Autumn Feast—it’s half a moon cycle away?”
“Yes,” replied Emil, “I’ve been thinking about my mentor too. Papa, who would you choose?”
Papa liked to hear Emil was putting thought into this. The People in their wisdom had learned the value of a mentor, other than the father to train young hunters. This maintained fairness and allowed a father to just be a father.
“I can’t answer that for you, Emil. You know it’s a personal choice. The People have great hunters. If you do well in the games, you can choose anyone you want,” replied Papa.
Emil tried the indirect route, “Of course, Papa, but if you were still a boy and choosing now, how would you do it?”
Papa responded only with a silent quizzical look.
Emil asked another question: “Papa, how did you choose the men on your hunting team?”
Papa grinned inwardly, appreciating his son’s maneuvering. This was a fair question regardless.
“I chose my team based on two things. All of my men were very different, except they are all high character, and sharp.”
Emil nodded, thinking deeply on all of this. There was only one choice.
Chapter Eight
“Roaring lions kill no prey.” -Zulu Proverb
The Deer Hunter
Early the next morning, well before sunrise, there was a quiet knock at the Gher pole. Bret was standing outside in full hunting gear. He told Papa, “Emil found this obsidian blade and gave it to me. He’s very generous but too young to know its value. It’s not right for me to keep it.”
Papa examined it carefully, commented, “This is spectacular,” then he handed it back to Bret. “Emil considers you his friend. This is his way.”
Bret was taken aback by this generosity. “Amazing. Spearmaker, am I still the best tracker in the village?” Papa nodded.
Bret asked, “Then with your permission, allow me to teach my young friend Emil deer tracking. Chief Sev has given me a break from fishing and there is fresh deer spoor close to the village.”
Papa called into the Gher, “Babo, this is your lucky day. No chores, instead the best deer hunter of the People will teach you how he tracks. Get your footpads, water pouch, some dried berries, and hunting kit.”
Emil was so excited he was hopping up and down in the Gher getting ready. Emil had a good sharp knife and Papa had made him a small throwing stick with six darts.
Sunrise found Emil and Bret at the edge of a rocky, bushy meadow. It then opened up into thick wooded forest. Bret had them circle around this meadow to get into the forest.
They did so and entered the forest area. Bret paused and asked, “Emil, why didn’t we walk straight through that low bushy area?” Emil shook his head.
“Snakes,” explained Bret.
“It’s late in the season and early in the morning. Bushy rock beds can have many dangerous forest vipers. Vipers aren’t as common in the forest because the birds and squirrels they feed upon can avoid their reach up in the trees. In rocky country like this, with low bushes, the birds are closer to the ground. The bushes give great natural cover for hunting squirrels or rabbits. Brushy areas also provide the snakes with better cover from things that might eat them.”
A lazy ray of sunlight gleamed down through the arboreal canopy. A speckled brown sparrow floated down into the edge of the rock bed after some worms. The bird hopped lower from branch to branch of a berry bush until it was almost on the ground. As if on cue, a hissing blur from under the bush struck the bird faster than any man could react. It disappeared back into the rocks. The sparrow wobbled shakily, and tried to spread its wings and fly. It just fell off the bush. Only then did the black-mouthed viper fully reveal itself with a spine-tingling hiss.
Bret motioned for Emil to step back further, saying, “Stay there but watch closely.”
The little hunter reached his spearpoint close into the viper’s area, holding the other end of the spear firmly with both hands.
“The People think vipers are fast. On the ground they’re actually clumsy movers. They can’t leap at you. They don’t have to coil to strike, and their striking range is a bit less than their body length. Their speed, however, is all in the strike. This comes at lightning speed with great power.”
Another grayish-brown blur struck the spear with a resounding crack. The force almost knocked it out of the man’s hands. Bret chopped off the viper’s head with the edge of the spear, and flicked the severed body back over his shoulder. The viper’s headless body landed in a bunch of ferns. The separated head now lay in a small pool of fluorescent amber venom. Both head and body were each still striking out at any leaf they touched. Emil was shocked at this.
Bret walked back over to Emil and pointed down.
“Even hours after you kill it, a severed snake’s head can still kill you. Never forget this. As you see, the headless body reflex is also to strike though it can’t hurt you anymore. Snakes are most active when it’s warm, but they never hibernate. A fire at night is very important to keep snakes away. They are attracted to one’s body heat. Be very alert nights after rainy storms, when frogs are everywhere in the mud. The snakes are very active, gorging themselves. Now you know the dangers of vipers, and how to avoid them.”
Now Emil was certain he hated snakes. “Snakes scare me,” he admitted quietly to Bret.
“Me too,” remarked Bret, with a wink, “but we are men, and men have to be brave.”
“Why doesn’t the venom kill you if you eat snakes?” asked Emil.
Bret replied, “I think the venom has to get into your blood. Are you ready to stalk deer now?”
Bret knelt and grabbed a small handful of dirt, tossing it in the air to gauge the wind. Then he took two small steps into the forest and stopped. He took a knee and whispered to Emil.
“First, always remember deer are one of the most dangerous animals in the forest.”
Emil wasn’t sure he heard the little hunter right. The boy listened closely.
He’s focused and listening, thought Bret. Then he went on.
“Deer are fast and strong with sharp hooves and dangerous antlers. Bucks in fall mating season don’t eat, they just want to fight anything they see. Lions and bears are stronger but much more predictable. Deer can smell so well and move silently. They appear right next to you before you know it. The wind flows higher up in the early morning, so they can’t smell you as easily as the rest of the day. My trick is to make them think you are a deer too. Walk like them. Think of the air like a swirling river of water. You always want to circle downwind. If you can’t do this ahead of you, back up until you can. Now watch my feet.”
Bret was kneeling at the base of a small hill. He loaded his throwing stick with a dart and took two small steps, then one more step. He would start in a balanced slight crouch with his weight shifted on one foot. Then he would step forward with his other foot. He let his little toe touch down first before rolling down on the outside edge of his foot. The little hunter was using his feet like hands in the dark. If he felt something noisy underneath, he wouldn’t step down. His head, however, was still up and his eyes stayed up on the horizon. Bret knelt down to one knee. He watched the ground for noisy twigs and scanned all the way around. The next thing Emil knew, he was already up the small hill. Papa was right, thought Emil, he moves like smoke in the forest. Bret motioned for Emil to try. The boy copied everything Bret did as he climbed up the hill.
“Not bad at all, little man!” Bret grinned. The boy is a natural stalker, like his opa, he thought.
“This is how a deer moves—learn this. First walk as slow as you can, and then slow down twice as much. If you st
ep on something noisy, sit still for a while. Even if a deer sees you and runs off, you might still get it if you sit still. When you see a deer, it can be exciting. Do your papa’s breathing exercise to calm down. Plan your approach carefully using as much cover as possible.”
They stalked silently all morning until the sun was high in the sky. Bret did a deer mating call. Emil realized, We are stalking into a potential bushy viper area. He backed them up and around it. There was a slight movement to their side as Bret quickly fired a dart into a deer which seemed to appear from nowhere. The deer stumbled, thrashing loudly into the brush. Bret ran it down and finished it with his spear. Bret carved the steaming heart out and dabbed the boy’s forehead and cheeks with warm deer’s blood. Emil thought, This is an honor. I have to eat some. He took a big bite of the offered dear heart, even though it made him a little sick.
“It was your kill, not mine,” offered Emil.
“No,” replied Bret, “the stalking is the hard part. It was our kill. You moved well for your first hunt. We share this kill.” He’s just like I was, thought Bret.
Emil drank some water and ate a few berries as Bret quickly carved up the deer. He didn’t want to linger in bear country and put the steaks in a large pouch. They worked back close to the village. There was another low, bushy field in front of them which Emil knew to avoid now.
As they walked Bret noticed Emil was unusually quiet for such a cheerful boy. He knew why.
“Emil, are you sad we killed the deer?” the little hunter asked.
Emil nodded. “I know we need meat. Stalking is fun, but I felt sad after we killed it.”
Bret stopped and dropped down so he was eye level with Emil. “My friend, I feel the same way. Killing is a serious thing. When you kill something, you take away its life and its future. We only kill for food or defense. It’s good you think of the animals. If it helps, remember it’s a cycle. When we die, we turn into food for the grass which the deer eat.
“Is that older boy from the races still teasing you?” Bret asked.
“Kilan? No, he’s a good friend now. Some of the other boys do sometimes, though. I don’t give any dingleberries the satisfaction, just like you said,” Emil replied. “Did you know Kilan has the smelliest farts in the village? Even worse than Bron. It’s great, it always sends the girls running!”
Bret chuckled. “Now that’s impressive. Though someday not long from now you may feel quite differently about the girls in the village, Emil. Our women and girls are as brave and harder working than the men. They admire strength, honesty, compassion and especially a sense of humor.”
The little hunter reminded himself to watch his language around the boy, then told a snake story.
“A long time ago, the snake had bitten and killed many forest creatures. It started to feel really guilty. It asked the Sky Spirits to take away its venom. The Sky Spirits said, ‘Doing this would leave you defenseless. We will change your nature so you rarely bite.’ The other animals figured out the snake rarely bit anymore and became careless around it. The snake grew weak and listless. The Sky Spirits saw how bad the snake looked and asked, ‘What’s wrong now?’ The snake replied, ‘I feel better. I don’t kill so much, but now all the animals step on me.’ The Sky Spirits thundered, ‘You foolish creature! We told you not to bite as much. Who told you to stop hissing?’”
This brought a smirk into Emil’s eyes. “I can’t wait to be a hunter like you or my papa.”
Bret declared in a gentle voice:
“Good. Be more like your papa than me. The hunters tease him a bit about being the Spearmaker now. But they all know we need good spears or else. The Eagle Feather, your opa, was born a natural warrior, and such men are truly rare. He was both the most dangerous, and safest man I ever met. He was like no one else.
“Emil, your papa is different—he’s as steady as they come. In a dangerous situation or real trouble, he’s the first one you want by your side. The hunters would all choose your papa over any man currently in the village. We all have our talents. He’s a rock for the People because he willed himself to be this way. He’s calm and determined. This is the kind of man you want to be.”
Emil beamed at this and felt much better. He then naturally had a bunch more questions for Bret. “How many deer do we lose if we don’t hit them right?” Emil asked.
“Too many. As you saw, they appear almost instantly. You can’t always hit them well, some run off, and some are just country tough,” Bret answered.
“Bret, what do you think would happen if a dart dipped in viper venom hit a deer? Could we still eat the meat?” queried Emil.
Bret thought then answered, “That is a very interesting question, Emil, very interesting.”
They made it back to the village shortly before dusk. Emil ran up to hug Mama and excitedly told her about the great day, the deer, and the snakes. Mama held the hug for a long time and thought, My little boy is growing up so fast.
Papa thanked Bret for the day.
Bret replied, “This boy reminds me of the Eagle Feather. He asks great questions.”
Papa forced a straight face. This was the supreme compliment. Bret shared Emil’s question about using the viper venom for hunting. Both hunters agreed this was something to explore.
The People welcomed fresh venison after a steady diet of fish and fruit. Mama and Papa told Emil his deer was the best they had tasted. Emil’s proud smile lit up his face at helping feed the People.
That night back in the Gher, Emil was still bouncing off the walls telling his parents all about vipers, deer, and how smart Bret was. Then just as quickly, he was sound asleep cuddled with Cloud in his sleeping furs.
This Autumn Feast was the most plentiful in memory. The throwing sticks and darts had greatly changed their lives for the better. Many of the young boys were now at the age of mentorship. Each boy must choose a mentor other than his father. Emil knew his choice and was nervous the hunter would be chosen before his turn.
The boy’s up for mentorship drew marked bones out of a leather pouch to determine order.
Emil luckily drew the first bone.
Chief Sev congratulated him. “Which hunter will mentor you, Emil?”
Emil’s giddy reply was, “Bret!”
This was greeted with hushed silence. This was not meant to be a slight, so much as surprise at the boy’s choice. Leif was the strongest hunter in the village. Bron could wrestle two men at once. When the People looked at Bret, they saw a small hunter of only seventeen winters. He fished well, and could run fast, but wasn’t even on a hunting team. The other two actually led hunting teams. The People were embarrassed for Emil’s folly.
Bret was astounded by this honor of being chosen first among every hunter of the People. He’d never even been chosen before. The little hunter’s eyes met Papa’s with a silent promise. Emil will learn everything I know about hunting and life. The stars have finally given me the chance to honor the Eagle Feather.
In the very near future, the People would soon see the wisdom of Emil’s choice. This day, however, aside from Emil, the only clear sign of approval was a fleeting spark in Papa’s eyes. Wise choice, Babo. They don’t see what Bret is yet.
Bret came over to Emil’s family with his usual lopsided grin.
“Emil, Emil, Emil, I thought you were so much smarter than this. I’m truly honored. Tomorrow after daily tasks we will run, then track, then throw. Rest up, young buck.”
Chapter Nine
“There lies a lion in every heart.” -Sikh Proverb
Courage
A crisp black wind sailed ghoulish sounds through the moonlit clouds. The Sabretooth had killed in the valley. Its roar was an outrage at being hunted that carried the cat’s fervent bloodlust to kill everything in the valley. Small furry animals shivered in their burrows, as the fearsome echoes haunted the hills.
Cloud woke up stiff legged and growling at this sound ringing in the distance. Emil hushed the white wolf. This telltale threat stabbed fre
sh nightmares of fear into the hearts of the People. A Sabretooth’s roar carries over an incredible distance at night. Emil saw Papa was already armed and awake. He was looking in the direction of the Mountain River.
“The Sabretooth has just killed. It wants to kill all of us, Papa,” Emil stated.
“Yes, Babo,” uttered Papa, “but it’s very far away tonight. Don’t worry. We have a good fire and Cloud’s nose. Try and sleep, little one.”
Papa still threw another log on the fire and began sharpening his darts. He wondered, Why would the big cat announce its presence with a roar? Now they knew it was back.
At sunrise, Chief Sev sent a hunting team to the area the Sabretooth roars had come from. Bret, who usually preferred to hunt alone, joined the team. They returned shortly before dusk. Bret’s typical lighthearted grin had hardened to stone. He reported to Chief Sev while handing him a small deerskin bundle. The Chief quickly called a council of warriors. Chief Sev opened the bundle to reveal an ivory-chipped axe blade made from the tusks of a mammoth. Only the Mountain Men use this weapon. There was finely dried blood near the base. This was trouble. The Chief let the weary hunting party eat before reporting. The hunting party wolfed down some fish and drank deeply from the water pouches offered to them. Bret finished first, and spoke for them.
“There’s Sabretooth spoor all over the big hills by the Mountain River. It gets worse. We also found the partially eaten body of a Mountain Man. Also, fresh tracks from one of their hunting parties by the hill caves on our side of the river. They were moving fast and unbelievably trying to track at night. The great cat ambushed them on a narrow trail by the hill caves.”
“The Mountain Men cannot be allowed to hunt our lands, or others will as well. We must answer this aggression,” Chief Sev responded in a tone of worry.
Papa raised his hand to speak.