Brinan of the Wolf Clan

by Laura Jack

  “Chores first!”

  “But mother, you don’t understand.” Brinan yelled in frustration. “We set snares yesterday if we don’t get to them quickly our kills will be stolen.”

  “They are probably already in the belly of some old fox.” Deema was adamant. Brinan knew by the set of her shoulders and tight lips that she would not relent. He rushed through his chores, frustrated that Callom was ready before him.

  “Go on ahead if you want.” Brinan told him, but loyally, Callom waited, even helping Brinan to finish his chores. Free to go at last, Brinan called Luma. It would be good for her to come with them. Like the boys, she needed to burn off some exuberance.

  Of all the snares set so far, only two had caught anything. But as Deema had predicted something had got to them first. All that was left were the partially eaten carcasses of a hare and a stoat. The boys discarded the carcasses, wary of the infections that carnivores could spread. Now only the last snare remained to be checked.

  “I wonder if it’s worked.” Said Callom, as they retraced their route of yesterday.

  “I hope so, I hate returning empty handed and mother will have that smug ‘I told you so’ look on her face.” He pulled a face imitating his mother and Callom snorted with laughter, then added to the mimicry of Deema with a high pitched impression.

  “Chores first!”

  On reaching the clearing, both boys broke into a run.

  “Yeees!” Cried Brinan, punching the air. Dangling from the sapling was not a rabbit, or a fox, but a wolverine. Bigger than a badger and also a member of the weasel family, the fur of this vicious, wily predator was highly prized as it did not freeze when wet, making it perfect for hoods in winter.” The boys extracted it from the snare and re-set it. They agreed to share the pelt. It would easily make two hoods, possibly three in the right hands. They jogged home, keen to show off their prize and share the technique with their Clan. Neither boy felt guilty about hunting. They could just as easily become the hunted and in the glacial cold of Northern Europe, hunting was not sport - it was survival.

  “Mother, Jonan! Look what we caught!” Brinan held up their prize as he walked into the cave.

  “Very nice,” said his mother. Jonan looked up from the knife he was sharpening.

  “Impressive.”

  “Why are you so pleased with yourself?” It was the newcomer, Ruban who spoke. “Snaring a fox is nothing special.”

  “It’s not a fox, it’s a wolverine and it’s not what we caught it’s how we caught it that makes it special.” Retorted Brinan. Ever since Ruban had joined the Clan, he had found it hard to like the boy. He was cheeky to everyone, annoying in that way that seven year olds like to be annoying; testing the boundaries of every Clan member’s tolerance. Brinan had no guilt whatsoever in swinging the now stiffened carcass at him. Ruban ducked and stuck out his tongue, he was well practised in avoiding the repercussions of his bad behaviour.

  “We found a new way to snare animals,” announced Callom.

  “A better way,” added Brinan. Now they had everyone’s attention. Using a similar set up by the river near their cave, they showed the hunters their new method.

  “Clever! Very clever.” Said Arguus.

  ‘If necessity is the mother of invention; serendipity is her sister.” Felmus quoted sagely, ruffling Callom’s hair. “Who thought of it first?”

  “Both of us really,” said Callom looking over at Brinan. Brinan nodded in agreement.

  “We had the idea together then we both worked out the details.”

  Arguus smiled. He was pleased to see the youngsters sharing the credit.

  “It’s a brilliant idea. Do you think Felmas, we could adapt this to hunt larger game?” He asked turning to Callom’s uncle.

  “I don’t see why not. It could work on the small forest deer . . . even on something as big as a beaver if we did it beside water.” Felmas replied. He had that same faraway look on his face that Callom often did. The resemblance, not in physical looks, but in untapped genius - was uncanny.

  Callom and Brinan listened intently as the hunters took over their idea. On returning to the cave, they discovered that Serena had skinned the wolverine for them and extracted the teeth of the carnivore from its jaws for jewellery. She was in the process of pulling out the strong digging claws to use for burins – a tool that was used to gouge out wood and ivory for carving.

  “I’ll make the hoods if I can get one?” She offered. The boys agreed - sewing was not their strongest skill.

  Autumn seemed to last for ever. The weather stayed dry and warm, although nights brought lower temperatures and the leaves turned dry and brittle but still stayed on the trees. Arguus had planned an expedition to the flint mine in the north east. It was an annual trip to allow the hunters a chance to collect raw materials to give them plenty to work with over the winter months when they were confined to the cave. Flint was always better if it was mined from its source and it happened that this flint mine came from a white cliff face of chalk which also had its uses.

  While the hunters were away mining flint, the children were set the task of foraging for whatever they could find to store for the winter; mushrooms, blackberries, hazelnuts and apples. Each morning the children made up their haversacks for a day’s foraging. Gathering was now a priority and occupied everyone’s time. Who knew how much longer the fine weather would last. The children had been left in a high meadow with a limestone rocky outcrop to the north and a belt of trees to the south and west. From their elevation, they could see the shimmering horizon of the sea to the east in the far distance.

  Each day they would build a camp fire, feeding it with plenty of damp wood that created a lot of smoke to deter predators so they could forage in safety. Each day Ruban sulked and had to be cajoled into helping the others. This time he whined that he wanted to go to the flint mines with Dovan.

  “You can’t,” snapped Brinan. “They’ll be miles away by now.”

  “Don’t worry Ruban; the hunters will bring back some flint for you too. I’ll show you how to make a hand axe when they do.”

  “You will?” Ruban looked at Callom with suspicion.

  “I promise, but only if you work hard with us today.”

  Ruban nodded. For the rest of the day he stayed close to Callom. Collecting everything that he said, even adopting his mannerisms. Unlike Brinan, Callom didn’t mind the boy and encouraged him.

  Matina, when she wasn’t looking for herbs and plants for medicine, picked some of the apples that were scattered near a gnarled old tree. She picked one up that looked promising but on turning it over saw that it was rotten. She threw it far away so she would not be fooled into picking it up again. Luma thought this was a new game and bounded after the apple, picking it up and bringing it back.

  “Clever girl!” Matina picked up another apple and threw it. Again, Luma retrieved it. Soon all the children were throwing apples for Luma until she flopped down on her belly, her tongue rolling out with exhaustion. The children, cheered by the distraction returned happily to their chores.

  It was monotonous work gathering. While looking for mushrooms, Serena noticed some blackberry bushes still heavy with fruit. She went over to investigate but the berries were past their best, shrivelled and bitter by the first night frosts. She turned back to scan the ground for mushrooms but a gaping hole in the rock face behind the bushes caught her eye.

  “Callom, Brinan over here. Bring your axes.” She shouted. The urgency in her voice brought the boys at a run.

  “I think it’s a cave but I can’t get in to look for this bush.” Serena explained. Excited by the prospect of a discovery, the boys hacked at the blackberry canes until they had cleared a way. Callom gestured for Serena to go in first but Brinan stopped her.

  “We’d better check that it’s empty first.”

  Serena nodded and paled a little. The cave could easily be the den of a predator, a wolf or cave hyena or even a bear. She peered in cautiously, her senses heigh
tened for any sound or smell of an animal. The odours of carnivores were particularly pungent but she couldn’t smell anything to worry about. Callom had lit a torch from the camp fire and passed it to her but before she could stoop down to get in, Luma ran between her legs and straight into the cave.

  “Luma, no! Wait!” Commanded Brinan. Fearing for his cub, he grabbed the torch from Serena and went in after her, visualising himself having to fend off an angry predator. Luma, however, knew that the cave was empty. Her wolf senses were far better than the childrens’. She came back out almost at once carrying in her mouth the leg bone of a small mammal and proudly dropped it at Brinan’s feet then scooted down on her forelegs and yapped for him to throw it. Brinan examined the bone. He knew it was very old because it was dried out and brittle. On it were the teeth marks of a carnivore. A wolf perhaps? He threw the bone for Luma and gave the torch to Serena.

  “It’s safe, and it’s your discovery so you should go in first.”

  Serena grinned before stooping down to the entrance, the braids on her head flopping over her face. Matina and Ruban had left their gathering baskets to join the others watching Serena disappear into the hillside. Everyone held their breathe in anticipation.

  “It’s okay. Come in.” Serena’s voice sounded distant and echoed. First Brinan, then Callom, then Ruban and finally Matina stooped down under the archway of blackberry canes and walked into the cave. Lit by the torch they could see it was not nearly as big as their home cave – but big enough to be a secret cave for five children.

  “Wow. We could live here.” Said Callom. Serena stared round at the bare walls just crying out to be drawn on. This could be her sacred cave. Brinan scanned the ground and found more bones bearing the teeth marks of a wolf. It couldn’t be a better omen.

  The height of the cave was high enough for Brinan to stand up in with a few feet to spare. They could have a fire in here. Callom searched for scat but there were no droppings to indicate that the cave had been used recently and it certainly showed no sign of human occupation – they were the first.

  “It needs a fire,” announced Matina. “But first we need some hearthstones.”

  Gathering for winter was forgotten while the children cleared out their new den. Serena damped down the floor then Matina swept out the dirt with a broom that Callom quickly made for her using his spear and some heather for the bristles (on Matina’s orders, she could be very bossy when it came to cleaning).

  “This is perfect.” Said Brinan, once he was allowed back into the cave. Matina had shooed everyone out to sweep. Ceremoniously Ruban carried in some stones for the hearth. Matina brought in more dried grass and fresh wood. Carefully Brinan carried in a partially burnt branch from the fire outside and lit the fire inside. The glow of the fire gave the children a primeval sense of relief of having a roof of their own over their heads. When the fire was brought in, it filled the cave forcing the children outside for fresh air. Brinan noticed smoke coming up through a hole on the hill above the cave. He climbed up the rock face and shifted heather and dirt to make the hole bigger. Callom brought up three large stones. Two wide ones which propped up the third, a long thin one to act as a chimney while letting the smoke escape but still keep rainwater and snow out.

  While they were up there, Brinan and Callom surveyed the scene around them enjoying a commanding view of the whole valley and river. They sighted the lake to the east and the grassy plains to the west leading to the great sea of the West. Below them, the forest panned out concealing their home cave from view but Brinan knew by the alignment of landmarks that it was directly below them.

  They agreed not to tell the adults of their find. This cave was to be their secret cave.

  “I wish we could live here all the time.” Matina sighed.

  “You would miss your mother.” Serena said, not taking her eyes off her drawing.

  “It would be fun to camp here on our own.” Brinan said, feeling like a headman.

  “It’s getting too late in the season.” Serena replied curtly.

  “Oh Serena, where’s your sense of adventure?” Callom sighed wistfully. Serena just pulled a face at him.

  “It’s getting late in the season. We won’t be allowed to come up here at all soon.” Said Serena. “Maybe we should think about organising the cave and stashing our things in caches for the winter. I don’t want our efforts wrecked by some wolverine or hyena.”

  ‘You’r right, let’s do it tomorrow,” said Brinan. The others nodded their agreement.

  Little did they know then how important this decision would be.

  9 Boat

  Over the next few days, the children returned to their secret cave, bringing up surplus goods that made it into a proper home. Ruban brought tools for flint knapping. Callom took tools and wood for carving. Brinan brought up a spare haversack; a bison hide to stuff as a target; and spears to hone his hunting skills. It was power he lacked, not accuracy. It frustrated him but every day he got stronger and his range got farther. Callom practised too and Ruban sometimes.

  The girls brought things up as well, squirreling them into every available niche. The cave was getting quite homely, especially with the drawings that Serena put on the walls. Matina brought up cooking utensils, including one of her mother’s large cooking pots. Sensing a great purpose behind the children’s activities, Lodina did not ask her daughter where she was taking it. Instead, she suggested to Matina that she find a use for some surplus stores she had. She had already guessed the children had made a secret den somewhere.

  Matina felt like the mother of her own hearth, bossing the others and fussing over them at the same time. One night she left Flossa at the cave. No-one got any sleep that night for Matina’s tearful tantrums – it threatened to give the game away on their secret – Serena was sure she would blurt out where she had left Flossa but to her credit, she didn’t.

  Thanks to the clever door, Brinan and Callom had fashioned using the blackberry canes threaded through hazel branches to make a barrier that could be opened and shut to keep predators out, Flossa was safely where Matina had left her. Serena had taken up some of her drawing materials, glad for the chance to draw again and practise her lessons from Tamo.

  Her discretion wasn’t as secret as she thought. When Deema and the hunters returned from the mines, Deema noticed that she no longer had to shake out ochres from Serena’s bed furs and talking of bed furs, her stores were definitely lighter. Serena had taken up furs and stuffed them with bracken for seats, she liked her cave comforts when drawing and studying. She drew a horse on the wall, like the one she had seen at the Clan of the Horse, then using Luma as a model, she drew a wolf – it felt like being the Shaman of her own secret cave.

  Callom and Brinan practised their hunting skills and set their new type of snare in the woodlands around the cave. They had more failures than successes but enough was caught to keep Matina busy playing hearths. She enjoyed having small mammals to skin and cook, and was particularly delighted when the boys brought back a grouse. She saved the feathers for decoration.

  When the children returned to the cave that evening, Felmas announced he was planning a trip to the lake to start work on a new type of boat he was wanted to build and asked the boys if they would like to join him. Eager to learn and curious, the boys jumped at the chance. Ruban was torn between going with Callom or going up to the cave with Serena where he had a stash of flint for knapping. He decided to stay with the girls. He carried with him a stone hammer and bone chisel. Ruban’s father had been head flint knapper for the Aurochs Clan before he died. Ironically, he had been gored by the beast in its living form on a hunt last winter. It seemed to Risella that since her mate’s death, Ruban had taken on even more of his father’s spirit. It pleased her to think so, even if he did help himself to Dovan’s flint stores.

  “I hope that wherever you are taking all this flint is safe from predators. Do the others keep a fire going?” Risella asked him.

  “How do you know about
our secret cave?” Ruban blurted out confirming everyone’s suspicions. Four pairs of eyes shot Ruban with flint daggers.

  Risella raised one eyebrow, and, in an all knowing voice, said “A little bird told me.”

  In Magdalene legends, birds were thought to be carriers of the souls of the tribes most ancient ancestors. Mother’s warned their children that they should never be naughty because they were always being watched over by their ancestors. Ruban scowled at the sparrows pecking the ground for grains.

  Setting off in the chill of early morning, the trip to the lake had the excitement of an expedition about it. As well as Felmas and the two boys, Arguus, Dovan, Yorak and Jonan came too. All hands were needed for the task Felmas had in mind. When they arrived at a suitable spot, Felmas scanned the woodland above the lake for a suitable tree – one that would be big enough to be hollowed out and would hold four men comfortably along with fishing gear and supplies. A suitable candidate was found but it was much higher up than he would have liked.

  “We’ll chop it down, work on it up here, then take it down to the shoreline once it’s built.” Announced Felmas, laying a hand on its trunk and sealing its fate. Arguus nodded and began the first cut. It occurred to Brinan that although Arguus was Clan leader; Felmas was fully in charge here and then he understood what Arguus had told him about acknowledging the skills of others and respecting their authority.

  Between them, all the hunters blunted several axes chopping down the tree; it was a full day’s work. It was Brinan’s job to keep re-sharpening the axes. Meanwhile Callom came to the rescue with his large axe; the one Brinan had traded off Rufus in the summer. Felmas fixed it onto a wooden handle making it easier and more efficient to use.

  Callom took his turn chopping down the mother tree carefully following his uncle’s advice on where to chop. Like hunting did for Brinan, boat building now dominated his thoughts. Sweating from exertion, he gave the axe to Dovan who wielded the heavy tool much more efficiently. Callom would grow into it one day.