by A. K. Vyas
The dirt trail ended in a damp grassy area which extended into a narrow rocky chapparal. There was a gorge on one side and sloping high plains on the other. Cloud kept tracking in the direction of the grassy plains.
Bret asked, “Emil, which way did the dogs go—how would you know if Cloud wasn’t telling us?”
Emil thought really hard. The tracks ended with the dirt. There were no animal sounds or wind.
“I don’t know,” he replied dejectedly to his mentor.
Bret took a knee next to the boy, voicing, “Good, it’s smart to say so when you don’t know something. Many men can’t do this. It’s often not the things we don’t know that cause problems; it’s the things we know which aren’t true.” Papa nodded in full agreement.
Bret pointed at the dew on the grass. “There’s still dew on the grass ahead toward the plain. See here, there’s much less in the direction of the gorge. The pack’s feet soaked the dew off the grass that way. A big pack of hungry wild dogs is a nasty thing—we’ll go the other way.”
Papa whistled inwardly at Bret’s mastery. Most experienced trackers can read sign. Bret barely did. Instead the little hunter always looked ahead, already knowing the animal’s path.
Emil thought it was so easy when you knew what to look for and looked away embarrassed. Bret sensed this and smiled. “Your opa taught me this. It’s only easy when a great tracker teaches you.”
Emil proclaimed, “I’ve never seen wild dogs. They aren’t that big, right?”
Papa responded, “They are very cunning, hard to find, and the smartest animal in the forest. A pack of wild dogs will hunt anything in the forest except a mammoth. They prefer deer, but will even attack and eat tigers or panthers, though at great cost. You are right, Babo—they aren’t that big but have powerful jaws. They are smart and hunt as a team. Just like us.”
Bret cracked, “Why does a hunter have to be big to be dangerous, Emil?”
Papa and Emil got the little hunter’s joke.
“What is the most dangerous game?” Emil asked.
Papa and Bret looked at each other for a second and replied in unison, “That depends.”
This was a long topic of discussion as they gathered obsidian from the rock bed.
Bret added some obsidian stone to the pouch and began.
“Everything we hunt is dangerous and can kill you. It’s true for mammoth down to the little gazelles. Every hunter of the People is brave. For me, it’s deer and bear. We lose more hunters to deer, especially in mating season, than any other animal. I think it’s because deer aren’t predators. We aren’t as cautious and forget how powerful their hooves and horns can be.
“A bear has no weakness. It’s crafty with good hearing and eyesight, and their sense of smell is unmatched in the forest. Despite their size they can catch a deer over a short distance. We don’t hunt bear unless we have to. At spear range they are just too dangerous. A big cat’s nose isn’t much better than ours. If you get a good spear into a cat, it will go down. As powerful as they are, a big cat is much thinner skinned, with less fat for protection. Bears often steal our kills. At close range a big bulky bear can absorb three spears and still wipe out a four-man hunting team before you can blink. Though this might be different with your papa’s darts.”
Papa added, “Wind discipline is crucial in bear country. The easiest way to see a bear is to kill a deer or elk. A huge ill-tempered Grizzly will smell it and come take it from you.”
Bret chuckled darkly and knowingly at this, and Papa went on.
“Bears are very territorial and mark trees with claws. This tells you when you are in bear country and how big the bear is. Deer is important bear food, but berries are most important. Be very alert around berry bushes, especially late in the fall. All bears are very unpredictable. I surprised a massive rough-looking bear once near a berry bush. I was up the nearest tree in a flash, but it was running away from me just as fast. Another time, though, a little black bear stalked and charged my whole hunting team. We don’t hunt them unless we have no choice.”
Papa thought on it. “Panthers and mammoth are the most dangerous to me.”
Emil was surprised. “Why not a tiger?”
Bret nodded at Papa’s answer and responded.
“The big cats are dangerous in different ways. We aren’t usually their natural prey despite being a lot easier to kill than anything else they hunt. I think it’s because we smell so bad to them! They are ambush predators, built for power more than chasing down gazelle on the plains. Both panthers and tigers have the best night eyes and hearing. You will never see a panther during the day, and a tiger rarely, except for a maneater.
“Both are incredibly stealthy, but a tiger is more predictable in some ways. A tiger, for example, has a certain beat or territory it sticks to. If you see a tiger track, at some point the tiger will be back in that area. It’s different for panthers. The danger of a panther is it’s even stealthier and never completely loses its fear of man. A panther will always let you pass and silently ambush you from the rear. It kills using all four paws and its fangs. It’s much smaller than a tiger. It tries for a bite to the back of the neck. Unlike a tiger, a panther is completely unpredictable.
A tiger, on the other hand, is much braver. It can ambush you too, but will also announce itself with a growl and charge you. A tiger kills by snapping the neck. It can also kill you with one swipe of a paw. A tiger is much more powerful. If you see the charge you have a chance to get a spear into it. You will never see a panther. It’s just like your papa says. Most big cats don’t want us, but some decide they do. It’s most dangerous in the darkest nights of a new moon.”
Emil asked, “What about mammoth, is it because they are so big?”
Papa answered, thinking back to a winter hunt.
“Yes, they travel in large, powerful herds. They run much faster than you think and are relentless when provoked. Its trunk can smell you from very far away and it will chase you half the day and kill you four times. A mammoth can smack you with its trunk, or grab you with it and smash you into every tree in the area. It can stomp you into the dirt, and we haven’t mentioned the tusks. Their thick hide is also very hard to get a spear through. We hunt them with fire and drive them off cliffs unless we can isolate one. Otherwise it’s sure death.”
Bret chimed in with an observation that only hunters know.
“The amazing thing about a mammoth is how often you can’t see them. Anything that size should be easy to spot. Somehow, they just know how to move using the land and trees for cover. I’ve stood close to a mammoth in heavy brush. I watched it walk from tall grass behind thorny trees. I knew it was there but couldn’t see it! It sure smelled me, though, when the wind changed. It chased me for half a day. It took every trick I knew and some luck to get away. It’s also true they have great memories. A mammoth herd will see a trap and rarely fall for it the next migration.
“Emil, no two animals are alike—what we are teaching you is based on good experience. It’s all only true, until it isn’t. Out here everything bites and only food runs!”
Papa paused as old memories returned to him. “There is something else. In some ways, mammoth seem the most human of all the forest animals. It’s something in their eyes. Emil, your opa would not hunt mammoth later in life.”
Bret and Emil both turned and focused on Papa with acute interest as he continued.
“The People were suffering a brutally harsh winter with little food left. They saw a small mammoth herd on the plains headed for a small gully. The meat was worth the risk. Our hunters beat the mammoths to the gully and dug some deep pits in the snow just off the path. We covered them with shrubs and branches. As the herd passed our hunters began imitating Sabretooth calls and using torches and smoke to try to panic the herd off the path. It was starting to work, except a big Old Bull mammoth knew this trick.
“He was trumpeting loudly for the herd to stay on the path. He turned back and stood his ground, ferociously
blocking the trail from behind. Opa said we wanted no part of him. There was then a weighty silence to the frosty air which was suddenly pierced by a bleating cry off to the side.
“A frightened young calf had panicked and fallen into one of the hidden pits. All the People had to do now was wait—there would be plenty of meat. Opa thought the herd had no choice but to leave the calf and held the hunters back out of danger.
“The Old Bull saw this and ran over to the pit, looking down at the crying calf. His gaze swept back over the hunters and to his herd now escaping safely out of the gully. The Old Bull let out a thunderous huffing bellow. Every hunter shook in fear of his charge.
“Then the mammoth turned and slid slowly down into the pit. He gingerly picked up the squirming calf and lifted it over the edge of the pit. The Old Bull smacked it on the backside so it would sprint to catch the herd. The calf was safe now, but the Old Bull knew he was trapped.
“The Eagle Feather was deeply touched by the Old Bull’s leadership and sacrifice. He said, ‘Those old venerable eyes knew exactly what it was doing.’ This meat saved the People that winter, but your opa never hunted mammoth again.”
Emil had moist eyes. Bret also looked away, as if quietly picking something out of his eyes.
“I never heard that story. Thank you,” remarked the little hunter.
The stony rock bed had yielded a bountiful supply of obsidian. Papa’s flint pouch was filled with enough of the sharp volcanic stones to make eight to ten new spears as well as a few knifes. One glossy oblong piece was almost as good for a hunting knife as Bret’s.
Emil peppered them both with questions on the way back to the village. Cloud flushed a flock of birds out of a little wood off the trail and the boy found a few eggs for his pouch. They all marveled again at the abundance of fresh game sign around them.
Emil asked, “Papa, why do we send hunting teams in the four directions every day?”
Papa’s reply was slow in coming and thought out.
“Babo we never know how the game animals move or migrate. After a while there isn’t enough game in an area and we have to move the village to follow the game. So, it’s best to hunt in all directions.”
Emil responded, “Yes, Papa, but we haven’t moved the village in a long time. Is this because where we are now is good for game and water?”
Both men nodded in agreement, and they could see a tentative question on the boy’s mind.
“Papa, because of the Sabretooth, the People didn’t hunt or go near the Mountain River for a full four days. Look how many game animals are here now. What if, instead of hunting in all four directions every day, we only hunted in two or three directions? Wouldn’t the animals in the quiet directions for a couple of days lose some fear of being hunted? They’d all come back like we are seeing in the river direction today? We might not have to move the village away from a good spot like we have now.”
“That’s a very good question, young buck,” whistled Bret appreciatively.
Papa thought this made sense too. It was so obvious when you thought it through. He made a point to bring this up to Chief Sev back in the village.
Chapter Fourteen
“Better one day as a lion than a hundred as a sheep.” -Spartan Proverb
The Mistake
It was a perfect day for the Spirit Ceremony. The sky was robin’s egg blue and there wasn’t a single cloud in sight. A slight aromatic wind wafted faint vestiges of sweet maple and juniper into the village. Robins, cardinals, and blackbirds serenaded the young sun from nearby trees.
Chief Sev addressed the People.
“We are the Auroch People. The Sky Spirits look down on us just as they did our ancestors. They sent the first Auroch. There is a time for everything, a time to live, a time to die for every creature. Some of us live to be old and gray, others see but a single winter. It’s all written in the stars. All of this is beyond our control. We only control our thoughts and actions.
“I’m so proud to be Chief of the People. We lost good people, strong hunters, young mothers, wise elders, and bright children. All were taken far too soon, far too fast. All bravely died in service to the People.
“Leif and Bron died fighting the Sabretooth as warriors should. Kara, a young mother, sacrificed herself to save her baby. Arik, a young man, charged the cat like the brave hunter he soon hoped to be so others could escape. The three Elders, Jun, Max, and Eli, went down fighting as well. We honor them today, and send their bodies up to the Sky Spirits to watch over us. We grieve for them. We never forget them and we go on. If your heart is heavy, think of how blessed we are such People lived. Lulu will lead us in the People’s song as we send our honored into the sky.”
Papa was holding Emil’s hand as Mama led the People’s song. The wooden pyres were lit as the hazy blue smoke circled lazily up to be received by the Sky Spirits. The village went back to work. Hunting teams went out for game. The women continued to work on the damaged Ghers. There weren’t very many bird eggs for the boys to find this time of year.
Kilan, Mats, Lars, and Emil were watching the determined bustle around them.
Lars ranted, “We should hunt eggs, but there are none. The hunters are looking for game. We should do something to help the people too.”
Emil recalled, “I was by the Bear River yesterday too. The fish run is over, but there were plenty just lying there on the shore or in shallow pools. I just didn’t have a basket.”
Kilan and Mats thought it would be a great idea to take baskets and bring the People back fresh silver-scaled fish.
Emil shook his head. “It’s too late in the season. My papa says the bears are too dangerous before their winter sleep. They would never let us go alone, and all the adults are busy today.”
Lars blurted back, “We will be really quick! Maybe the bears are already asleep, and we’d have Cloud with us! We could all be great heroes like Bret.”
Emil shook his head. “The rule is no one leaves the village without telling someone first. We shouldn’t go to Bear River. My papa said all the bears are there gorging on fish and berries.”
Lars was adamant, “We even won’t go by any berry bushes! If the fish are just lying trapped or close to shore like you said, we can really help. Besides, bears aren’t dangerous unless you scare them when they’re with their cubs. Cloud can smell them first.”
Mats bragged, “No bear can catch me. Emil, you are just scared. I’m taking a basket like a real hunter and getting fish for the People. You can stay here and help the girls fix the Ghers, Emil.”
“We have to let someone know we are going at least,” pleaded Emil, but no one heard him but Cloud.
Kilan and Lars grabbed baskets and followed Mats. Emil knew it was wrong. He grabbed a basket and told a little girl from the village where they were going. Emil and Cloud ran out to follow the boys before she could answer.
Papa and Bret were chipping the new obsidian into spear points. The sun was at its highest point in the sky. Papa had mentioned the idea of rotating hunting sectors to Chief Sev. His only hesitation was the People might be blind from approaching enemies in quiet sectors.
Bret, with no patience for crafting a spearpoint, had a thought.
“True, but as we saw on the other hand, there’d be so much more game to hunt. We could remain in a favorable area like we have now. There’s plenty of game here, good water from two rivers, and we can see any approaches to the village. Maybe we just avoid one sector at a time instead of two. We could even scout around the edge of a sector while leaving it open.”
A little girl named Shala brought them cold meat, berries, and water. The men thanked her initiative. Papa realized he hadn’t seen Emil or heard Cloud barking since the Spirit Ceremony. He asked Shala if Emil and the boys were out picking eggs.
Shala looked away quickly. The little girl had a conflicted look on her face.
Papa went on, “Shala, what aren’t you telling me? Are the boys in the village? This is very important.”
Papa and Bret were the only two hunters left in the village. They both shared an incredulous look. Then Papa’s voice had a trace of alarm: “Lulu knows the bears are too dangerous by the river now. She’d never take them?”
“No,” said Shala, “she is helping fix Ghers. I just saw Emil and Cloud leave alone.”
Papa and Bret dropped their food, grabbed their weapons, and began sprinting for the river. She could hear the Spearmaker praying as he ran. Bret was loudly screaming words she had heard but didn’t know what they meant. Everyone knew Bret was the fastest runner of the People. Shala saw he was two lengths behind the Spearmaker, as she lost sight of them in the woods.
The riverbank was full of pink and silver salmon squirming and flopping in the sandy shallows. There was fresh bear sign everywhere. This smaller river was called the Bear River for good reason. Emil knelt at the water’s edge, nervously filling his basket with the speckled fish. The far bank held even more of the grounded silver-scaled fish. The shallow stream sparkled in the sunlight.
Kilan pointed to a massive bear claw mark high up a tree trunk, admitting, “You’re right, Emil—we’d better be quick. You stay here. We’ll grab all those fish on the other side and leave fast.”
Emil pleaded, “Let’s just go now! The trees are too close to the water on the other side. We are downwind. If there are bears in that dark grove, Cloud can’t smell them!”
The other three boys’ eyes just saw all the fresh fish flopping in front of them and didn’t listen. They hurriedly splashed across to the other side. Emil stayed put and focused on filling his basket as fast as possible. He tried to breathe through the dreadful feeling coming over him.
Kilan was grabbing a trapped fish from the stream when he heard a twig snap behind him. He had that eerie sinking feeling you get when something is watching you. The boy shielded his brow from the glaring sunlight while looking back into the sage underbrush. Nothing. Kilan reached back into the stream for a big speckled fish. There was a nearly imperceptible sound behind him. The sound of a heavy padded foot. Kilan wouldn’t have heard the sound even if it wasn’t muffled by the flowing stream. The bad feeling was stronger. He knew it was time to go. Somehow, he was suddenly, inexplicably in the shade. Cloud growled from the opposite bank, just as Kilan saw the reflection of a colossal silvertip bear standing right behind him in the stream.