by Laura Jack
“No, not throw.” Varad was serious. “Give to me. This not spear; this – arrow, go into this - bow.” He explained placing the arrow in the groove. He stood up, aimed skyward and pulled back on the string then released it. The arrow shot so high into the sky that it disappeared from view.
“For the love of Magda!” Swore Brinan and Callom in unison. They were astounded by the power of the weapon and, like the implications of their idea of using sail for a boat; realised that this was a life changing invention.
“Now Brinan take bow!” Varad offered him the bow.
“Let’s make a target first. I don’t want to lose all the arrows we’ve just made.” Said Brinan. So much for ‘trolls’ being stupid and backward, he thought suddenly. They had far more efficient hunting weapons than his so-called advanced tribe.
They stuffed Ruban’s old winter parka with dried bracken (it had been badly torn when he fell in the gorge so it wasn’t wasted) and propped it up against two saplings at the edge of a clearing. Serena drew the image of a boar on the hide.
Brinan felt clumsy holding the bow. Even with his fingers in the loops, he struggled to keep the arrow in place and pull back the string. It needed a lot of brute strength. His arm ached from the effort but after a several goes, he hit the target and was impressed by how deeply the spear was embedded in the heavy bison hide.
“Boars eye!” He yelled in triumph.
Then it was Callom’s turn. Immediately, Callom appreciated the extra range and power that the weapon gave him. The spear throwers they used did a similar job but were not so good in thickly covered woodland. Varad demonstrated their stealth by hiding in the trees then firing from the cover of bushes. The arrow whistled passed the others and found its mark without them being able to see where it came from. Now that they knew what they were getting, they threw themselves into the making of their own bows and arrows.
The following day, they all practised, apart from Ruban who could not use his bow while his arm was still in a sling. But he was happy to act as retriever for the arrows. Even Matina was successful, as was Serena. Both girls could use this weapon even more efficiently than spears and proved themselves more accurate. They made a competition of it until the parka fell apart! Both Ruban and Matina slept with their bows in their furs that night to the amusement of the others. Tomas, as usual was cuddled up to Serena. She had stopped thinking of the baby as a burden and each day felt more bonded with him, almost like a mother.
On the third day, Brinan announced it was time to hunt. Serena agreed to stay at camp with the little ones but she felt a lot safer with her new weapon and almost willed a predator to attack. Ruban set himself the task of making more arrow heads and shafts. He was not letting his cast get in the way of that. Matina played with Tomas, but when he slept she got out her little bow and arrows and practised again. The day held excitement and promise for all of them.
The hunting party trekked silently through the forest. Brinan felt a quiet confidence that he had not the last time he hunted boar. He still shook with adrenaline coursing through his veins, but not fear this time; just readiness and excitement. It wasn’t long before Luma picked up the trail of a family of wild boar. The trail was fresh; and the boys instinctively slowed their movements and carefully picked their way through the undergrowth. Varad was in front and raised a hand to halt the other two. They froze as he did and all three listened. Luma froze too; she was careful to take her cue from her pack and stealth, for a wolf, was instinctive. With a slow drop of his palm, Brinan motioned her to lie down and stay. The forest grew silent as if all the creatures knew they were listening and held their breath.
They waited and listened. Then they heard it, a rustle of bracken, the snuffling of pigs. Varad looked back at the other two, pointed to his own eyes then pointed in the direction he could hear the pigs coming. He dropped gracefully to one knee trying to signal his presence as little as possible. Brinan and Callom flanked him keeping low and stepping cautiously. Luma crawled forward on her belly but Brinan commanded her silently to stay with his hand. She dropped her jaw to her paws and watched him. Once all the hunters were in place they watched the big male boar come in to view, followed by his clan of females and young ones. Normally they would have had to wait longer for the animals to get closer but Varad was already placing and arrow in his bow and signalling for Brinan and Callom to do the same. He made another signal that they didn’t understand then turned and set his sights – and aimed his arrow at the large male. Brinan set his sights on a young female, Callom on another young male that had almost reached adult hood.
At a barely perceptible nod from Varad, they cast their arrows in poetic unison. All hit their marks. At first, the boars left did not realise they were being hunted. It was Luma, who blew their cover; she had taken Varad standing up as a cue to move. She bolted for one of the piglets that ran towards her unaware of her presence. She soon dispatched the squealing animal by biting into the back of its neck and shaking it dead. Although it didn’t matter now, Brinan told himself that he would need to train her to stay until she was told to move.
Dazed by the speed and efficiency of their hunt, Brinan found himself standing in the midst of three dead boars, four if they counted Luma’s kill. It had been so easy! Callom howled first, raising his weapon in a power salute. Varad copied him, then Brinan. Their primal screams of victory set the forest birds flying out of the trees and earthbound creatures scuttling for cover.
“Long live the Wolf Clan!” Callom raised a salute; it felt so right.
“The Wolf Clan!” Acknowledge Varad.
“To the Wolf Clan! Shouted Brinan, “and to Varad, our hunting brother!” Both he and Callom saluted him. Varad’s smile of response could have lit up the dark side of the moon.
Deep in concentration, Serena shaded in the colours of her picture. Behind her, Ruban was gluing an arrow head into another hazel shaft. His broken left arm gave him no trouble. He was sat cross legged with a stone in between to use as a platform. Matina played with Tomas, rattling a necklace of animal vertebrae to amuse him. Tomas rolled onto his belly with a gurgle of delight. Despite not having mother’s milk he was growing fast on the foods that the children prepared for him. Mashed grains with shredded meat and meat juices were best, along with the ground up starchy cattail roots that were easy to find near river banks.
A rustling in the trees snapped their attention. Serena reached for her bow but then smiled.
“Hola!” Brinan was in front carrying one end of a pole on each shoulder, to which not one - but two - dead boar were hanging. Callom took the other end. Varad followed on behind pulling a travois with the third one.
Serena was delighted and a little in awe. “We’ll have a feast tonight!”
“Yes, it will be appropriate for the adoption ceremony.” Brinan announced, placing his hand on Varad’s shoulder.
“Adoption ceremony? For Varad?” Serena asked hopefully.
Brinan nodded.
“I think that’s wonderful, Brinan. But how, we don’t have a Shaman?”
“Yes we do Serena - we have you!”
“I’m not fully trained, you know that.”
“You don’t need be. An adoption ceremony isn’t that hard to perform is it? We’ve witnessed plenty at the Summer Gatherings over the years.” Said Callom encouragingly.
Brinan was more serious.
“We’ve got to face facts Serena. All of you, listen to me. We may never be reunited with the rest of our Clan. Surely, they would have found us by now. We stayed long enough near the cave and have left so many signs for them to pick up our trail.” He could see the others hearts sinking and tears swelling but continued, resolute.
“I’m not saying we will never find them, or ever be found by them. I just think we should be prepared for when we arrive at the Summer Gathering. I’ve thought about it a lot you see.”
“What’s to think about?” Serena asked. “I’m confused.”
“Listen, when we get there
they will want to take us in, but we might have to agree to being adopted by other Clans, separated even. I am not willing to give up my Wolf Clan status - even if all that remains is us six – seven, when we adopt Varad. That’s why I want to adopt him. We’ve been discussing it. He’s proved his loyalty by giving us an amazing new weapon . . . and he really wants to stay with us Serena - to stay with you!”
Realization dawned on Serena and Callom and they nodded slowly in agreement.
“Of course you’re right,” Agreed Serena finally. “We shouldn’t give up on finding the others.”
She swallowed down the tears that threatened. “We’ll we’d better get this meat skinned and butchered for a feast tonight. Most of it will need to be dried for travelling but I think those two youngsters roasted whole will be a special treat.”
“That settles it then. Serena, you’re co-leader and Shaman. Matina, you’re keeper of the hearth and medicine woman. Ruban, you are flint knapper and guardian of Tomas. Callom, you’re both wood master and boat master. Varad, you’re chief hunter on land. Callom is chief hunter on water.”
“What does that make you?” Serena wanted to know.
“A lot happier;” quipped Brinan. “I’m doing what a headman does best – delegating! One final thing, with this new weapon – we are all hunters!”
Serena didn’t have a wolf skin to wear as Shaman but the presence of Luma as a living embodiment of the Clan was, they all decided, even better. Nor did she have a tattoo, so instead she mixed up a little of the woad powder she had left and painted bright blue symbols on her face and arms. She did some in charcoal as well, the black contrasting dramatically with the blue. The others were given painted tattoos too; as a mark of their status within the Clan and Serena spoke the formal words of the Tribe to announce their new status within the Wolf Clan.
It only remained for Varad to be adopted and marked as Clan. He stood facing Serena, while the others stood behind him, waiting expectantly. Serena closed her eyes and tried to recall the exact words for an adoption ceremony. Varad waited patiently, understanding her need to get things right. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. He nodded in readiness.
“Varad of the . . . er . . . Woodland Clan . . . you have been invited to join with the Wolf Clan. Do you accept this offer?” I should have asked him what his Clan was called, and I should have said Tribe of Magdalene. Serena thought suddenly. Oh well, this will have to do.
“Yes.” Varad replied simply.
“Members of the Wolf Clan . . . of the Tribe of Magdalene . . . do you accept this hunter into your Clan?”
“We accept and welcome him.” Replied the others in unison.
“Varad’s gift to the Clan is three-fold, by the saving of Ruban’s arm and possibly his life; by his willingness to share food and hunt with the Clan; and finally by his willingness to share a powerful new weapon with the Clan, he has greatly eased our troubles and proved himself a valued member of this Clan. In the name of Magdalene, the Mother Goddess I hereby announce that Varad is now a member of the Wolf Clan; held within the protection and love of all the Clan. People of the Wolf Clan you may come forward and acknowledge our newest family member.” Serena concluded taking a deep breath at the end. It was a lot to get out but she had done it.
It may not have been the full and proper ceremony but the meaning was equally important and that was what really mattered. In their eyes, Varad was now a member of the Wolf Clan. Brinan was the first to shake his hand and then laughed at the formality and hugged him. He presented Varad with a canine wolf tooth from his own amulet. Matina, as keeper of the hearth, gave him a fire making kit of tinder and a piece of iron pyrite which, when struck with flint would produce a spark. It was a symbol of his right to make a hearth within the camp of the Wolf Clan. Callom gave him a flint hand axe; Ruban presented him with a pouch full of arrowheads.
“Ruban good flint knapper. Varad is happy.” Varad said feeling the edge of the blade.
“You say, Ruban is a good flint knapper and I am happy.” Serena corrected him, she knew he appreciated it.
“Yes, Ruban is a good flint knapper,” Varad repeated back to her, “and I am happy. I am happy to know you all - as my Clan.” Serena was the last to acknowledge him with a gift and handed him a small colourfully decorated pouch. “It is for your personal talismans like the Wolf tooth Brinan has given you. You should also keep your birthstone in it. I don’t know what your birthstone is; but I’m sure the shamans of the tribe will tell you and give you one when we get to the Horse Clan.”
She took out her own birthstone and showed it to Varad.
“This is my one, Amber, it is for creative thought and serenity – it is the stone of the artist.”
“My one is jade – it’s for healing and compussion!” Matina piped up.
“Compassion,” Serena corrected her with a slow pronunciation of the word.”
“Com-paaa-ssion!” Matina mimicked cheekily.
“I wonder what yours will be Varad.” Brinan said, hoping that the tribal Shamans would honour their adoption of him. Yossef, the old disagreeable Shaman of the Horse Clan came to mind, and Brinan couldn’t shake a feeling of foreboding that trouble was ahead. He quietly resolved that if Varad was not accepted then they, in support, would not stay at the Gathering.
18 Cave Lion
Setting out on the last leg of their journey, the Wolf Clan were in high spirits. Well fed and growing in confidence in their ability to take care of themselves; Brinan especially was feeling as a head man should. Two more days of travelling and they were out of the woodland and back in high country as they travelled further inland. It was high summer and all were feeling the heat. Finding water was not so easy as streams dried up along their route. Brinan resolved to take on extra water for storage at the next usuable source – but it was a long time in coming.
The high grasses of the steppes were at times difficult to travel through and more than once, they wandered off course and had to take an unfamiliar route to get back on track. At one point, they had to skirt round a small pride of cave lions feasting on the carcass of an onagor, an animal that was related to horses but with a longer, mule-like face. If it had been a pack of wolves, they would have used fire and drums to chase them off to get some of the meat but cave lions were massive and this pride consisted of young cubs which made them even more aggressive and protective of their kill.
Vultures soared overhead. Round the perimeter of the kill site, spotted cave hyenas and wild dogs - paced expectantly, waiting for an opportunity, Brinan gave them a wide berth too. The mountains to the south and east provided a distance landmark that kept their direction of travel more or less accurate.
Where the grass was shorter and dried golden in the summer heat, they walked in single file. Brinan worried that being forced to climb higher reduced his chance of finding water. He though bitterly of the large body of water that had forced it’s way into their lives so destructively; what he wouldn’t give for a cupful of that water now!
“I’m tired Brinan, I want to rest!” Whined Matina, in that voice that usually got her what she wanted.
“Me too and I’m thirsty.” Ruban added.
“We’re all tired and we’re all thirsty but we can’t stop here. It’s not much farther, I promise.” Brinan said firmly.
“You said that ages ago, and ages ago before that.” Matina whined again.
“Shut up Matina and keep walking.” Serena snapped.
“Carry me!” She whined, looking first at Callom then at Varad.
“Stop it Matina, you’re too big to be carried.” Shouted Brinan, putting an end to her whinging.
Matina’s bottom lip quivered then pouted. She dragged her feet; slowing down more and more in an attempt to get the others to stop and wait for her. Ruban copied her. Brinan looked back once then pointedly kept walking. “Keep moving!” He commanded; he wanted to be out of this countryside and by a cool running river before sunset.
Brinan knew roughly wh
ere they were and if they made good time he knew it would be possible. He didn’t like them camping out on the open steppes. The steep banks of a river would give them something solid at their backs for protection from predators. He thought about what they needed to do when they got there and then worried again if they had brought enough provisions and trade goods to make a good impression. As his train of thought drifted, the two youngsters trailed even farther behind. Fatigue and thirst was slowing their thinking as well as their feet.
It was Matina who spotted the outcrop of rocks and the promise of shelter from the sun; there might be a pool with some water from an underground spring, just like at their old home cave. She veered towards the outcrop followed by Ruban. With heads lowered in the blazing heat, the older ones did not notice them leave the trail until it was too late.
Matina wandered among the high rock walls glad to be out of the sun, it was easier to breathe here. If there was a cave there might be water. Boldly, she wandered in further, followed by Ruban. They got separated and when Ruban shouted for her. Matina giggled and called back, she ran through the maze of rocks that opened out into a blind canyon. “Come and find me!” She sang out playfully.
Her merriment was cut short by the snarl of a cave lion. Matina froze in terror as the great beast; twice as large as its modern counterpart jumped down from a rock ledge and padded towards her – what easy prey, its body language said. It had already eaten and had been dozing near its kill when the two youngsters had wandered in. It was in the mood for some play; like a cat with a mouse it batted the small girl to the ground. Matina had either passed out or was – instinctively - playing dead. Ruban wandered into the blind canyon, spotted the lion standing over Matina and screamed loudly. The lion snapped up his head, alert and cautious and looked at the boy. He sniffed at the body of the girl then sauntered towards the boy.