Chapter Seventeen
The Sea
The sun rose slowly over the eastern horizon, coloring the high floating billowing clouds with soft pastels from pink to orange. The tops of the gentle waves caught the angled light, accenting the whitecaps with light hues of yellows and oranges. A few gulls mewed and floated effortlessly and gracefully on the gentle currents in the dim light, while others stood or walked along the edge of the surf. The soft sounds of the waves breaking on the shoreline whispered in the new day.
Brug and Mortan scampered along the beach gathering crabs. Each boy wore only a small wrap tied around their waist and had a sack made of netting thrown over their shoulders, both sacks were filling up quickly. They stayed close enough to the water to prevent the crabs from escaping into the surf, and working together the method they had perfected over the last three days continued to reap grand results.
A loose group of seagulls fluttered all around the boys. Soaring over them, dipping down between them and watching for any spare tidbits. They mewed constantly, and those on the ground ran ahead and behind them taking flight if either boy got too close. It looked like a graceful, slow motion dance, that could only have been choreographed by the Mother Herself.
Brenan and Branag sat in the sand up from the shoreline, their young sons in their laps, watching the hunters at work. The soft sea breeze blowing into their faces as the light of day increased slowly around them, and they enjoyed the serenity of the morning.
Bralut reached up toward the sky, doing his best to grab the fading orange of the edge of a small fluffy cloud above. His pudgy fingers opening and closing, grabbing at the soft, colorful shapes floating above.
"Looks like boiled crab for the first meal." Brenan said softly, not wishing to spoil the soft sounds of the peaceful morning.
"Well, that will be something new." Branag said with a sarcastic chuckle, as if the camp had not feasted on boiled crabs for the last three days in a row.
Brydag tugged on Branag's beard, grinning up at him when Branag looked down at the fat boy with an over exaggerated scowl. Brydag tugged all the harder, squinting his eyes and cooing softly. Branag poked his belly and Brydag's hands dropped to grab Branag's fingers. The little boys grip was firm, and Branag waved his hand back and forth in front of Brydag's face causing Brydag to giggle.
Mortan took off running up the beach, Brug watched him go while trying to coax a blue crab that was clamped down on his finger, into the sack. Brug looked out in front of Mortan, trying to figure out just what he was chasing. Up ahead, he saw a sea turtle struggle toward the water. Clumsy and slow on the sand, his legs were not a very efficient means of propulsion until he made it into the water where he would again be graceful and quick. The turtle won the race, but not by much. Neither boy carried spears, and the turtle slid into the waves and out of sight as Mortan arrived.
"No turtle soup today." Branag said, smiling at Mortan who stood at the waters edge with his hands on his hips watching the turtle escape.
"Not for a first meal anyway." Brenan said in answer as Bralut wiggled in his lap.
**********
The next six days passed pretty much as the previous three had. Breaking camp late following a first meal of fresh seafood, and traveling until mid to late afternoon before stopping for the night.
The travelers kept the pace relaxed and measured, it was getting a little harder to travel throughout the duration of the available daylight now for some of them. The women who were pregnant had slowed incrementally as their bellies had swelled. The Clan women as well as Regan and Fralie were within two moons or so from giving birth. This time around, Fralie had handled her pregnancy very well. She was stronger and in better physical shape and the adverse effects of her last pregnancy was not in evidence at all. No one was happier about this than Frebec, though he still doted over her shamelessly as if she were weak and helpless.
Nezzie was two moons or so behind the rest of them, but she had actually lost weight during her pregnancy. Nezzie had always been a rather robust woman who carried a lot of body fat on her wide frame. The exercise of constant travel had leaned her up considerably, and the effects of her own pregnancy had actually helped her to lose weight while the other women gained.
Matera was just about as far along as Nezzie, and though she and Nezzie were both a little older than the other women who were expecting, she was doing very well. She had lost quite a bit of weight off her rather voluptuous frame initially, but as she got into better traveling shape her body firmed up as well. Now she had a nice belly bulge and her already large breasts had grown even larger, but her previously softly toned legs and arms were now well muscled and hard. Vincavec had a lot of fun with her revised form, and if she weren't already blessed she definitely would be by now with all the attention she got between the furs from him.
The general health of the entire camp was incredibly fit and able, and for the most part getting even better. Even amongst the oldest of the travelers, they all felt better than they had in years. Wymez and the Mog-ur could keep up with the rest of the group without pressing themselves unduly, and even Rymar was showing almost daily improvement from his wounds.
The closeness that had begun so subtly when Danug was injured had increased steadily between him and Tressie. Danug had even drawn out the attention he got from the young, pretty healer by asking for a little more attention to his wound than was really needed or necessary. It was something that Talut and Nezzie had watched from a distance with hope, and often some amusement. Danug had never really shown much interest in the fairer sex, not with any sincerity up until now, anyway.
Deegie had the sneaking suspicion that she had been blessed by the Mother again. She had kept her presumptions to herself so far, but Deegie had missed her last moon time and she had felt a little bit of occasional morning sickness of late. So far, Branag hadn't noticed anything out of the usual.
Though most of the wounded were in good enough shape now to keep up an all day pace, Rymar was not. He walked without the aid of the crutch, but his stamina was depleted much more easily than it had been before he was hurt though he improved steadily. The leg itself was healing nicely, by the muscles stayed sore from the daily exertions.
With all the bounty they were able to secure from the sea on a daily basis, it seemed a waste to not to take full advantage of it. Whenever they were able to catch a more of the larger fish than they could eat in their nets, they took the time to dry the extra meat to replenish their low food supplies. Vegetables were scarce close to the sea, so they made occasional foraging runs inland to keep themselves supplied with greens and roots. Slowly but surely their traveling stores were put back into a reasonably sized stash.
Along the coast, the steadily cooling weather was blunted slightly and the effects of the fall were felt a little more gradually than they had been further inland. The warm salty winds that came off the water were pleasant enough, but the impending change of season was definitely in the air.
**********
A craggy outcrop of rock reached far out into the surf up ahead of them as they walked almost casually at the edge of the sandy beach. Heavy tree cover flanked the exposed rock to either side inland, but the trees faded out as the bare sand began. The breakwater had been visible for most of the morning, and now it was close enough to have the entire camp excited about the possibilities it offered.
Brug and Mortan took off ahead to check it out. Ludeg and Brenan followed them, but neither of the grown men were compelled to run.
Brug hopped up on a deep grey rock, and looked down the breakwater. Mortan joined him, and they started hopping from rock to rock working their way out. Brug stopped and pointed down into the water. Mortan followed where he was pointing. A huge cluster of crustaceans covered the rocks all the way up past the surface of the water, the tide was ebbing. Mortan grinned, and they moved on down the rocky formation.
"Brug!" Mortan said under his breath, pointing down the rocks at a dark shape that stood out in the grey rocks.
They watched together, seeing the strange looking movement as the dark shape swam between and around the rocks that jutted out into the water. It was hard to get a good look at it, but whatever it was had a long tail.
'Is it an otter?' Brug signed.
'Maybe.' Mortan answered, then used his throwing spear to push on a wide shell firmly attached to the rock they stood on. The shell didn't budge, and Mortan didn't want to take a chance of damaging the sharp flint tip so the boys moved on hopping from rock to rock.
Brenan and Ludeg stood at the shore, watching the two boys as they worked their way farther and farther out. The rock formation was huge, and it rose up over twice their height here on shore.
"We should probably see what's on the other side of this." Ludeg said, gazing up at the jagged rocks.
"Yeah, but I don't want to let the boys out of sight—let's wait until the others catch up." Brenan answered, knowing they would have to go all the way around the formation to get past it. He looked back inland, seeing the trees encroach and wondered how far it went.
Ludeg nodded, and turned back and watched Mortan point excitedly into the water as Brug looked beside him. Their youthful enthusiasm was catching as always, and both men considered walking out to join them.
**********
"...it is a good place to stop for a few days, besides we do need to get more food preserved and gathered." Talut was saying, addressing a loose group near where the breakwater pushed out into the sea.
"But I want to know what's on the other side of this." He continued, raising his arm up at the tall mound of jagged rock.
The rock formation here at the beach was four or five times as tall as Talut, and formidable in its rugged appearance. The majority of the rocks were huge, with smaller boulders intermixed almost as if the Mother Herself had pushed the ground together and forced this mound of stones up from the depths. A few scattered bushes and weeds grew from cracks and depressions in the stones, but it was mostly barren of any plant life at all.
"I'd feel better if we checked it out, I'm growing weary of unpleasant surprises too." Brenan said, and looked over to Danug who was busy staring at Tressie who was kneeling down and checking out Rymar's injured leg. "Danug, want to come with me?"
Danug jumped at the sound of his name, and Talut laughed aloud at his huge strapping son whose face reddened as he looked over to Brenan. He stammered something that was hard to understand and looked down at the ground. Draag walked up to him and put his hand on Danug's arm, and motioned for him to follow. They walked back over to the second sledge together and pulled out their scabbards of spears from where they were stored at the front.
"Let's go ahead and make camp here, but lets go inland far enough to get out of the sand." Vincavec said, pointing over to where the grass started to the north.
**********
The six men followed the rocks inland, the overall height of the mound seemed to be diminishing slowly, but it ran for as far as they could see from here. Short, stocky trees were scattered all around and the grass cover was thin, but consistent. They selected a place that looked easier than what they had seen so far, and began climbing, taking their time with the difficult footing. They stayed fairly spread out, not wanting to crowd each other in two lines.
Danug found a crease in the stone above, and pulled himself up and over a large boulder. When he stood back up, he saw a good place to go next. Brenan and Ludeg followed him carefully.
Talut grunted as he hefted his massive weight up onto a boulder that was just over waist high. He almost lost his balance but Branag gave him a push from behind and he leaned forward and got up on his knees, grinning broadly. Draag followed the two of them nimbly, the incredible strength in his arms and legs making it easy for him to pull his heavy body up onto the rocks, one at a time. If there were any lingering effects of his injured shoulder slowing him down, it was not obvious.
**********
Brug and Mortan waited on Crag, their patience was being severely tested and it showed in their body language. Both of them had their fishing spears strapped across their backs and a single throwing spear in their hands. Crag sipped a cup of tea, staring out into the vastness of the blue-green sea.
A huge black and white osprey soared on the low winds off the water, his sharp eyes watching every ripple on the surface. The tips of the feathers in his wings curled in the wind, and his tail feathers twisted to keep him headed straight in the direction of his choice. With a subtle twist of his wide right wing and tail feathers, he changed direction and pulled his wings forward a little to slow his speed. In a movement that was so fast that it was hard to follow, he folded his wings pointing them behind him and dropped like an arrow into the water. The bird disappeared into the waves, then the water exploded as the osprey burst up and back into flight with a bright silver mullet gripped firmly in his sharp, powerful talons. The mullet worked his mouth open and closed and waved his tail back and forth feebly as the osprey flew off to the east and out of sight past the ridge of rock.
Crag watched this fine exhibition of the osprey's hunting prowess with awe and more than a little appreciation of the skills shown. Patience, he thought to himself, watching the two boys out of the corner of his eye. They were fidgeting around and basically acting like the children that they in fact really still were. Learn patience, be like the osprey, he thought, sipping his tea.
**********
Danug reached back and gave his hand to Brenan, who used it to pull himself up onto the wide, flat rock. The rock sloped forward and Brenan felt like he could just slide off it at any moment, until he looked down to the bright green valley below.
"Wow, will you look at that." Ludeg said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his tunic.
The six men stood silently in awe of the lush green valley below. It stretched for at least a full days walk along the coastline before the trees began further off to the east, and twice that distance back to the north. In both directions, the ground looked to rise up into gentle hills. The ridge of rock they were on gradually petered out somewhere in the cover of what looked to be a forest of willows and brush to the north, just how far was hard to judge.
Several moose waded thigh deep in the waters of the marsh that ran through the center of the valley, and beyond them was a small herd of old male bison. The marsh was surrounded by deep green grasses of several varieties. To the northern side of the marsh, aurochs grazed with several huge red deer just beyond them. A lone megaceros stood at the edge of the low slung branches of a wide willow, nibbling leaves.
Directly across the valley to the east, another rock formation jutted from the ground. This one was tiny compared to the one they were on, but it stuck out distinctly from the greens and blues of the valley. A monster of a brown bear gathered nuts or berries from the greenery on the left side of the rocks, sitting on his wide haunches.
"Well, I know what we're doing tomorrow." Talut said softly, grinning broadly. He could already taste the sizzling moose meat, hot and juicy—and so very filling.
"If that's the case, we better find a way around this ridge," Ludeg said. "We'll never get anything of any size over all this."
Danug took a long last look down at the moose, then over at the bear. He wondered what else was down there that they couldn't see.
**********
Crag watched, sitting on a nice flat rock just out of reach of the spray from the waves crashing into the rocks. Behind him, a small pool of water stood in a gap in the rocks, shells clinging to the sides under the level of the water.
Brug had his gaff tipped spear along with the coil of cord in place and ready as he worked his way south from rock to rock. Mortan was similarly outfitted, and both boys wore only a wrap around their waists. They would hop onto a rock, then sneak up to the edge of it looking down into the water for a target.
They made a very efficient team, having learned and hunted together for as long as they had. The silent communications between them wasn't all Clan signs, they knew each other well enough to read body language and subtle gestures, and even facial expressions.
Crag sat up and watched more closely, he could read their body language as well. They were on to something, and began a slow, stealthy stalk down the rocks. At least they are patient when they hunt, he thought with amusement.
Brug held his left hand out, the coil of cord dangling loosely, his spear held high and ready in his other hand. Mortan aped him, two steps to his right. They crept forward with such stealth it took a trained eye to see that they were moving at all.
In a sudden flash of movement, both hunters threw their spears. A moment later, both were struggling with the ends of their cords as they fought to pull in their catch.
Crag knew instantly that whatever they had speared had some serious size to it. Both boys fought hard to keep their balance and even looked to be having a hard time staying on the slick, wet rock. Mortan slipped and fell on his butt, and pulled back all the harder, laughing out loud. Brug pulled his cord in hand over hand, the muscles in his arms and legs rippling and flexing powerfully.
Brug reached down and pulled up a large, fat fish by the shaft of his spear that was mostly silver with bright red gills and a light red streaked neck with heavy looking scales. He tossed it in between the rocks behind him and with a single step, grabbed Mortan's cord and helped him haul in his fish. The second fish was just about the same size as the first, but had a little more red under its head. Both fish had been hit well with the spears, and it took the boys a little while to remove the spears. They had to pull the spears and the cords the rest of the way through the bodies of the fish, it wasn't easy.
Brug carried his fish with one hand by the gills, but it took both hands for Mortan. Though older, he was no where near as strong as the stocky young man of the Clan. Brug carried Mortan's spear with his own as they walked back to Crag. After showing off their catch, they dropped them into the small pool behind Crag, and went back to hunting. Crag watched the fish, one would be belly up shortly judging from his erratic movements, but the other may live a little while.
**********
None of the six men were paying enough attention, all of them had their minds on the fertile valley and not on what they were doing. They all had spears in their hands, but they were really just walking along to the north through the scattered trees and day dreaming of hunting moose. No one was really being very cautious at all of their surroundings, sights or sounds. Not even Ludeg who led them with Danug beside him, in fact they were talking about possible strategies for the hunt tomorrow.
The roar made them all jump. Danug was the first to see him, and it was all he could do not to turn and run. Between a willow and a small patch of brush, a saber tooth tiger fed on what was left of a deer of some kind, a large one. Blood dripped from his mouth and front legs as he stood up and took two quick steps forward and growled, then roared again. All tigers were large, but this one was the biggest any of them had ever seen. A male in his prime, and a magnificent specimen of his kind, this cat had obviously never know hunger at all judging by the size of him.
None of the scouts had spear throwers, but they all had full scabbards of throwing spears strapped across their backs. A standoff began, and the men pulled extra spears out, holding them with their free hands.
The tiger lurched forward another bounding step, and roared again. It was all any of them could do to stand still and hold their ground as he swiped a paw at them, bloody claws extended.
"Danug, Draag, we'll throw first. The rest of you be ready." Talut said, looking at Draag to make sure he understood the plan, he did. The three of them moved forward a step or two to get into position.
The tiger roared again, swiping at them menacingly again with his bloody paw.
They let fly almost as one. The power of these three men, possibly the strongest among all the men of the traveling band, showed in kind. Draag's spear hit the tiger full in the chest and Talut's spear hit just a hands width below that. Danug's spear hit the tiger in the flank, a grazing shot that spun him to his left and ripped a wide bloody wound as the spear penetrated the thick muscles of his rear leg. The double impact to the chest knocked the tiger another step sideways, almost taking him off his feet.
Brenan and Ludeg sighted in and let loose, hitting the cat in the side and in the neck. When Branag threw his spear, a loud pop of breaking bone was heard when it struck the tiger's right shoulder and the tiger hit the ground hard, snapping two spear shafts as he hit the ground. He roared out in pain, pulling at the spears in his chest with his sharp claws. The tiger rolled over and tried to get back on his feet, but Draag's next spear hit him in the throat just below his head and knocked him back down. He rolled as he hit the ground, and tried to roar a last time, but his strength was ebbing fast. The sounds that came from him wasn't really a roar, but more of a raspy wail. His movements slowed, and finally stopped.
From somewhere off to the east, a good distance away, a roar sounded. Even from far away it was easy enough to recognize it as similar to the roars of the tiger that now lay dead before them.
Talut wiped the sweat off his brow, lowering the tip of his spear to the ground. He took a deep breath, watching the tiger for any more signs of life. There were none.
**********
The succulent smells from the cooking fire permeated the camp with the steady, gentle sea breeze adding a salty tasting tang to the delectable scents of the cooking fish and the shoulder of the deer. A hanging stew skin of sea water simmered at the edge of the fire, with crabs occasionally bobbing to the surface, cooking slowly amongst thin strands of seaweed. The sky was still dotted with fluffy, puff ball clouds and together with the setting sun made for a colorful, serene background panorama of bright pastel colors.
"...we didn't find the far end of the rock mound, after coming across this brute we came on back." Danug said to Vincavec as the two of them dug the saber toothed tiger's claws out of his massive paws with their knives. "I guess we'll have to follow it on down in the morning to find a passage on through to the valley. I know Talut has his head set on hunting moose though, so I guess we'll be making an early go of it."
Vincavec grinned, fresh moose sounded good to him as well. "I'll take Rug and we'll scout out a place to cross, let Talut organize a hunt at dawn with whoever else wants to go."
Danug nodded his head, and with a firm tug wrenched the claw free and dropped it onto the tiger skin at his feet. His arm ached something fierce, and he looked back toward the fire. Tressie and Brenan sat huddled together with their medicine pouches open between them. Matera and Etra joined them, carrying their own bags and sat down with them. Danug grinned, watching as Tressie smiled at something Matera said. He noticed the swell of her breasts pushing against the light colored tunic she wore that was open in front. The slight movement of her breasts as she laughed caused a sudden uncomfortable swelling in his leggings.
Vincavec saw what Danug was staring at, and smiled at the smitten young man knowingly as he reached down and fumbled around with one hand to give his manhood a little more room in his leggings. When he looked back over at the healers, Vincavec couldn't help but to leer at Matera's swelling belly, and the sight of this made him smile all the more.
**********
The evening meal was a smashing success. It had been a while since there had been such nice variety of fine foods available, and it was savored accordingly. Talut and Danug both had more helpings than either of them cared to count, and there was still a lot left over when they were finally finished.
"I want to get an early start, who all wants to hunt moose in the morning?" Talut asked after burping loudly which got the attention of the majority of the camp. Most everyone sat around sipping tea and relaxing pleasantly full bellies.
A lot of people were quick to volunteer, but surprisingly, Mortan and Brug weren't among them. The young hunters had other ideas for their own morning hunt, Crag saw the look in their eyes and decided to stick around and keep an eye on them.
Vincavec told of his plan to explore on down the ridge to find a suitable place to cross with Rug who nodded his approval. Nezzie brought up a few chores that needed tending around the camp, and got several female volunteers, and a few of the older men offering their willingness to help. Matera mentioned that she and the other healers were low on a few specific supplies, and they would need to go foraging for fresh plants and roots to process.
Talut listened patiently, and when the general planning discussions for tomorrow died down, he began to lay out his ideas for the morning hunt.
**********
Mog-ur sat off to the side of the fire with little Ooga in his lap, watching the discussion through Tornec's constant translations. He couldn't help but to compare how these people of the Others opened their plans and ideas up to everyone to the much more stringent ways the Clan normally did things. Though hard to fully grasp, it was obvious to him that this was indeed a better, more efficient way of doing things. These concepts ran directly against his way of thinking, the Clan ways and traditions were so extremely different than what they were all exposed to now. Mog-ur had changed the way he felt about a lot of things since coming to know these people of the Others, and it never really seemed to stop.
He looked over at the faces of his fellow Clan members. Of them all, Etra and Rug seemed to be the most accepting of these new strange ways. Etra was considered to be a medicine woman of equal abilities and knowledge by her peers, and though a bit quiet and demure by their standards, was consulted in all major medical decisions. Rug, without giving up his mantle of leadership, participated actively in all the discussions of importance. Though less interested in the general planning talks, he added frequently to most of the hunting strategies as Crag often did.
Mog-ur knew that the rest of his Clan was still less comfortable with actively participating in these types of open talks. More and more though, the men were joining in on planning the hunts and the women added to the discussions of meal preparations and other camp activities and chores. It was a slow transition, but it was happening.
Crag and Rymar, at least until he was injured, were continuing to train and oversee Brug and Mortan. Mog-ur saw the incredible ease in how the two older men worked together explaining and teaching the young hunters, and though he did it on the sly, Mog-ur was learning from them too. The constant contributions the boys made to the food supplies spoke for themselves. Never had the Mog-ur seen such dedication as these boys showed on a daily basis. If it was light outside, they would rather be hunting than doing anything else.
Mog-ur felt Ooga's body slump against his chest gently, and he knew she had fallen asleep. Her hand fell away from the bottom of his beard slowly, he took hold of it and placed it gently between their bodies. Mog-ur enjoyed the closeness and warmth this delightful child showered him with, somehow, it helped the old holy man to keep things in perspective.
The firelight flickered, casting bright streaks through her deep brown, wavy hair. He ran his fingers through her hair, gently pulling it away from her face, admiring the innocent child's beauty in the serenity of the evening.
**********
Talut led the band of seventeen hunters, made up mostly of men, through the darkness. Tulie, Regan, Stolie, and Silvie were the only women who came along, the rest being busy with other things.
It was still dark, and the sun wasn't due to rise for quite a while yet. They walked down the length of the rocky mound all the way to where they had been surprised by the tiger the day before. Talut and Ludeg explored the rocky rise, and decided it was easy enough to get over it here. They led the others over the craggy mound that was only half again as high as Talut was tall here, establishing a path and helping the others over a couple of the harder spots to get over.
Ludeg peered through the trees with Talut and Branag beside him. It was still too dark to see much, but the unmistakable, soft sounds of animals out in front of them were easy enough to distinguish. He led the rest of them down the edge of the tree line back to the south.
**********
The first light of dawn began gradually, and the hunters grouped together to figure out a plan. They stayed back in the cover of the shade of a pair of short oak trees, and surveyed the situation.
A pair of bison were closest to them on down to the south grazing on the tall grass at the base of a few scrub trees. Across the body of shallow water to the east was a single moose knee deep in the water. Past the moose, the small band of male horses grazed peacefully at the waters edge. To the far north, a band of some twenty or so hyenas clustered around the carcass of something big, probably an aurochs or bison by the size of it. Though a long way off, the occasional cackling of the hyenas as they fought and scrambled over the kill could be heard.
There was no sign of the other three moose they had seen yesterday, but it wasn't likely that the others were too far away. With the light slowly increasing, it was time to get started. They all started cutting tall grass and small branches off nearby bushes and trees to stick into their clothing, and before long all of them had their profiles considerably softened by the camouflage of natural materials.
Six of them headed to the north, staying just within the trees and bushes as they made their way, going slowly and quietly. The rest of them went south, staying at the edge of the mound and in as much cover as they could. It would take a while to get into position unseen, if they were lucky.
**********
Crag followed the boys back out onto the breakwater, it was just barely light enough to see so they took their time. Footing here was treacherous at best, and they stayed well away from the waters edge so as to not spook any potential prey. The winds were gusty and cool, and the salty spray that sprinkled them from time to time off the rocks was cold but refreshing. It was a cool, brisk morning.
They passed the place where they had caught the fish the day before, working their way on down the ridge to where the water got deeper and the rocks bigger but farther apart. The waves got a little taller in the deeper water, and when they broke over the jagged rocks sent a lot of water up onto the rocks in cascading sprays that glimmered and formed soft translucent rainbows in the light sunlight.
Crag found a good spot to sit and watch out of the range of the spray of the breaking water and got comfortable on the flat top of a good size boulder that was mostly dry. The boys took off their foot covers and left them with him. He watched them walk on, the excitement they felt obvious in their body language.
Brug slowed as he peered over the edge of the wide rock he stood on, Mortan beside him. Both of them had their gaff tipped spears and cords ready. Seeing nothing that interested them, they moved on.
The boys hunted their way further down the ridge, slowly and carefully. The rocks were all wet and slick, so the going was slow and tedious. Crag was proud of the patience they were both showing, and he could see just how well they were working together. Staying side by side and communicating with simple gestures and very subtle signs, they were one deadly efficient pair of hunters.
Crag was distracted by a trio of sea gulls who soared on the currents, shadowing the boys as they worked their way on down the breakwater. The effortless way they hung in the sky amazed him, oh to be able to fly like that, he thought to himself as he watched.
A slow movement caught Crag's eye, and he shifted his vision back to the boys just as they were raising their spears. Something was different, he thought. The way they moved, the stony looks on their faces, what he could see anyway. Crag stood up, trying to get a better view, an uneasy feeling hit his stomach.
Mortan was almost afraid to throw his spear, that had to be the biggest fish he had ever seen. His heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt, he glanced at Brug and could see that his younger friend was just as anxious and uneasy as he was.
Brug looked into the water, almost up against the wide rock they stood on just a few feet down under the surface of the water was the biggest, fattest fish in the world—it had to be. His strong arms trembled slightly with anticipation and fear as he tried to concentrate enough to throw the spear. He caught Mortan's look out of the corner of his eye, Mortan was ready, and Brug nodded his head subtly.
With a deep breath, Brug flung his spear. Mortan saw the beginning of the motion and threw his almost at almost the same exact instant. Both spears were spot on accurate, and the huge grouper flinched and with a single swing of his tail moved away from the rock in a powerful surge of speed. The cords unwound quickly from the boys hands, but when they reached the ends and the boys got a grip where they were tied to their wrists and they pulled back against the fish—it happened.
Crag screamed out as both boys were pulled off the rock and into the water. He was signing frantically as he hurried toward where they had been. 'Cut the cord! Cut the cords!'
A distinct disadvantage of the silent language of the Clan was instantly apparent. You couldn't speak to someone that couldn't see you. Crag moved as fast as he could over the rocks.
Brug got a mouthful of water and choked as he struggled to pull the knife from his belt. Mortan crashed into him from the side, his elbow hitting Brug in the cheek. Brug pulled his knife free of the scabbard and let go of the cord tied to his left wrist and caught Mortan's arm. Brug felt his way up the arm and when he felt the cord he slashed at it with his knife. Mortan's hand hit him in the mouth as he suddenly went past him, and Brug felt the cord on his wrist pulling him deeper down into the cold, dark water.
With his chest constricting, screaming for breath, Brug tried to pull himself forward to reach the cord with his right hand. He was quickly getting weaker and weaker and needing to breath badly.
Crag jumped into the water just as Mortan's head broke the surface. He was not a strong swimmer at all, but he slapped his arms violently against the water trying to close the gap to Mortan. Mortan coughed and sputtered and his head went under again as a wave washed over him. Crag kicked furiously toward him.
Brug felt a stab of pain as he slashed at the cord, he could barely reach it. He started to lose his vision in the stinging darkness of the water. Cold enveloped him. He slashed again, and the constant pulling stopped abruptly. Brug's chest hurt more than he could have ever thought possible, but his fear lent him a surge of strength and he kicked and pulled upward with his hands. He could see the dim light above and kicked harder, and harder, his chest constricting tighter and tighter.
Mortan broke the water again, close enough for Crag to grab his arm. Mortan screamed out at the vise like grip squeezed his upper arm and got another mouth full of water in the process. Crag held Mortan's upper body up out of the water as his own head went under from the strain.
Brug was losing his strength, he kicked again, harder and harder. His chest felt like it was about to explode. The coldness crept into his bones.
Mortan took a deep, rasping breath and spit out a blob of water. He coughed hard as Crag's head surfaced beside him. Crag took a deep breath and shoved Mortan toward the rocks, then spun around in time to see Brug's head pop up to his right. Crag kicked toward the boy who was obviously in trouble. Bad trouble.
Brug gasped for air just before he cleared the surface, and got half a mouthful of seawater. He coughed and retched, and got a partial breath before slipping back under. His eyes burned so badly from the salty sea that he could no longer see and he threw up under water from his mouth and nose as he slowly began to sink back into the cold depths. The last conscious thought he had was of how much his wrist suddenly hurt.
Crag pulled as hard as he could toward the surface, his arms and legs were so fatigued that he could hardly force them to move, but force them he did. He needed fresh air so bad, but he pushed all the harder, on and on. Higher and higher, farther and farther.
When he finally found air, Crag jerked Brug's limp body up. He took a deep breath and kicked toward the rocks, a weariness such as he had never known enveloping his tired, shivering body. Crag saw that Brug's head kept going underwater, and he slowed and got a grip on the boys hair, pulling his face out of the surf and keeping it out. Crag was tiring badly, just a little farther, he thought to himself, pushing his body all the harder.
Just when Crag thought he could go no father, he kicked something hard with his foot. The sharp, stabbing pain gave him one last bit of energy and he scrambled up onto the rock well below the surface of the waves. He pulled Brug up to his chest by the armpits roughly, the water was waist deep, and he squeezed the boy's chest against his own. Nothing. Crag repositioned Brug's limp body, and squeezed the stocky boy again, harder this time. Nothing. On the third try, water gushed out of Brug's mouth and he coughed loudly and retched violently all over Crag's face and chest.
When Crag's eyes cleared a little from the stinging salt water and he could see a little again, he saw Mortan sitting on a rock with just his head and shoulders out of the water, his eyes wide with fear, his face deathly white.
Brug gasped and took a deep, ragged breath, and clung to Crag tightly. Crag exhaled loudly, and relaxed his grip on Brug just a little. He was so tired, so very, very tired.
**********
Branag led the other four men and Tulie around the perimeter of the shallow water just inside the edge of the cover of the brush and scattered trees. They moved as quietly as they could, while trying to stay out of sight of the moose still wading in the shallow water. Timing their brief surges forward with the movements of the moose, they moved on cautiously.
Across the pond, the other hunters were all in ambush position. Well hidden, Branag caught glimpses of them on occasion as they hunched down in the stands of tall grass and behind bushes. The camouflaged hunters formed a wide semicircle on the south side of the pond.
Two thirds of the way around the pond, they came across the other two moose that they had seen the day before. They were eating willow leaves from the back side of a wide tree up from the water a dozen steps or so.
"We might have a decent shot at them." Branag whispered to Tulie, both of them crouched down in the shade behind a short oak.
"Yes, but if we miss are you going to be the one to tell Talut why he didn't get a shot at the other moose?" Tulie grinned as she finished.
"Come on." Branag whispered, scowling as they moved on to the east.
**********
Crag carried Brug back onto the breakwater, setting him down on a wide, mostly dry rock that slanted away from the water. He turned to help Mortan who seemed to be incapable of moving. Mortan had a blank, far away look in his eyes and his face was still ghostly white.
Brug sat with his head between his knees, breathing deeply in a ragged sort of way and his whole body shivered in rippling, uncontrollable waves. He didn't notice the bright streak of blood that ran down his left leg from the gash in his wrist.
Crag ended up picking up Mortan by the armpits and setting him down beside Brug, then climbed up the slick face of the rock to join them.
"Brug", give me your hand.' Crag signed, and Brug weakly complied. Crag squeezed the wrist, and reached for the flap of a pouch on his belt and fumbled to untie the thin, wet leather that held it closed. He was having a hard time, his fingers were cold and fat feeling and the leather strip was tied tightly.
"Mor-tuh!" Crag's voice startled the boy, and he looked up at Crag, his eyes still wide with shock and fear. His face was so very pale.
When Crag made a motion with his head, then held Brug's bleeding wrist a little bit towards him, Mortan came out of his lethargic stupor and reached up to help. He took Brug's wrist in both hands, squeezing down to slow the blood flow and Crag gave all his attention to getting the knot undone.
Brug coughed again, and spat out a bit more seawater, the remnants dripping down the sides of his mouth. Mortan started talking to Brug, soft whispers that were meant to calm and assure his friend that everything would be all right. The hard, cold look in Brug's eyes softened a bit at the calming sounds of his hunting partner's familiar, soothing voice.
Crag got frustrated and quickly gave up on the tight, wet knot, and pulled his knife and cut the cord with a strong flick. He reached into the pouch and pulled out a few strips of soft leather, picking one that was almost as wide as the palm of his hand. Crag squared himself in front of Brug and Mortan, and nodded at Mortan who held Brug's wrist up a little higher up on Brug's forearm so Crag could get to the cut easier. Mortan slid his other hand down a little to give Crag more room to start the wrap.
Brug grunted when Crag finished and pulled the wrap tight, and Mortan looked over into his deep brown eyes and grinned at the slightly pained expression on Brug's face. It was a look, a familiar look he had seen before. Brug would be all right, he thought, and a tremendous weight seemed to fall off his shoulders.
Crag tied two additional thin strips around the wide wrap, securing it tightly. He sat back and took a deep breath, watching a small dark spot begin to seep through the light colored leather strip.
**********
The moose had her head down, pulling a wide clump of weeds from the bottom when the chasers made their move. They had watched and waited, and as soon a she ducked her head down the six of them took off running at her from the north, breaking out of the cover of a thick stand of brush. They ran as fast and as quietly as they could, trying to get as close as possible before she spotted them.
When the moose lifted her head out of the shallow water with a mouth full of dripping weeds, she saw them and started back pedaling toward shore. She flung her head sideways, sending the bright green weeds flying and bellowed as her feet were slowed by the thick, dark mud. She scrambled up out of the water, falling to her knees once in the mud at the edge of the marshy pond.
Branag and Tulie led the charge, screaming now as the six of them got closer, and closer. They all waved their spears as they ran at her, spreading out wider from each other as they came.
The moose hit solid ground and strained to get going, loping away from the screaming encroachers and working herself up into a full gallop. She turned her head for one last look back at the noisy humans when the first spear hit her full in the chest.
**********
Brug was still pale and a little slow, but walking pretty much on his own by the time the three of them finally reached the rocks at the shore. Crag assisted both boys as they traversed the often jagged rocks, going first, then helping them along.
Crag hopped down off the last short rock and onto the hard packed, wet sand. He turned and helped Brug off the rock, while Mortan hopped off on his own. They trudged up the sand toward camp, shivering still in their soaking wet, heavy clothes.
Vincavec spotted them first from the southern edge of the camp, he had been chopping dead fall and driftwood for the fire. Wymez was with him, stacking the firewood, and they both rushed out to meet them. It was obvious that something was amiss by the way they were walking.
Matera was the only healer still at the camp, she had stayed while the others had gone out scouting for plants because of a slight bout of nausea in her swelling belly. She had put together a drying rack behind the main tent.
A large crowd had gathered as Matera cleaned the knife wound. She began with a stinging antiseptic solution that Vincavec helped her to mix and got it all wrapped up with fresh, clean bandages.
Mortan told the story to an enthralled audience while Matera and Vincavec worked on Brug. Crag sat off to the side, watching and sipping tea. He had not even put on dry clothes yet, Crag would change when the boys did, there was a lot for them to talk about.
"...the biggest fish ever, it was so long and fat that we didn't even think about how strong it would be." Mortan said, Brug looking and nodding on as he spoke while signing at the same time. "When the cord ran out, we pulled back against the fish and wham—we were both in the water. It all happened so fast!"
A murmur went through their audience, and when it waned, he went on.
"Brug saved me, he cut the cord and I swam up to the surface as fast as I could. The water was so cold and the fish had pulled us down so deep and so fast that I didn't think I would ever get there." Mortan's voice softened slightly at the harrowing memory.
"When I got to the surface, I couldn't stay there. I was so tired and out of breath that I started going back under but Crag grabbed me and held me up high enough out of the water for me to catch my breath. Then he went after Brug."
Crag blanched as he watched Mortan sign as he spoke, he could almost feel his chest constricting at the memory of the ordeal. A shiver ran through him, he was still cold.
"He was still underwater when I got to the rock and pulled myself up, I watched and watched but I couldn't see either one of them..."
**********
Talut grunted as he and Branag rolled the heavy body of the moose over. It had taken seven spears to bring her down, and when she did finally hit the ground four of them had been broken off cleanly. Ludeg and Tulie reached down to continue slicing the heavy hide free as soon as the two men stepped back out of their way. Rug stood off to the side, holding the broken haft of his favorite spear, staring at it with a sad look on his face.
"I sure wanted to try for the other two moose, but I knew if we did you all would have been disappointed at not getting your own chance at this one." Tulie said, grinning up at Talut while she worked.
"I wonder if they're still there," Talut said as he looked back to the northeast.
"Not a chance, " Branag said. "They took off as soon as we came out of the brush. I'm still surprised we got past them at all without spooking them."
"Talut, are you worried that you won't get enough to eat?" Ludeg quipped, smiling broadly at him.
Laughter erupted all around them. Talut got a little red in the face, then laughed along with them.
**********
Latie pulled up on the prickly stem of the nettle, she had a soft piece of leather in her hand to protect her from the stinging sharp points and her knife in the other. She snipped the stem at the base of the well past its prime flower and watched as droplets of white liquid oozed up from outer portions of the hollow stem. Letting it go, she picked up the flower pod by a twisted dull green leaf and dropped it onto the small skin flat on the ground beside her. There were four more just like it already there.
Etra walked over to Latie as she stood up, holding the skin with the flower buds in it by the four corners. She held out a root system with three fat bulbous root pods connected by thin root strands. Latie looked at it and nodded, Etra dropped them into her own gathering basket and the two of them walked on through the brush and tall weeds to the northwest.
Brenan and Tressie knelt side by side at the base of a young willow sapling, slicing off thin strips of the inner layer of stringy bark from the bare spots where the dark outer bark had already been removed. They had quite a pile of the strips harvested, and they covered the entire bottom of Tressie's basket a couple of layers deep. Brenan looked up when he heard his mate and Etra approaching.
"Any luck finding any marigolds?" Latie asked as they walked up.
"Not yet, it may be too late in the season." Tressie answered.
"We can use the roots, the flowers aren't the only usable parts of the plant." Latie said, scanning the ground around them.
"I know, we could also use some datura..." The discussion continued as the healers worked to replenish their supplies.
**********
Crag and Vincavec walked the shoreline with Wymez and Rymar, they started out close to the breakwater. They hadn't gone too far when Vincavec spotted a large, dark shape lolling in the shallows with the rhythmic waves in the surf.
It was the grouper, all right, and it was indeed a monster. It took three of them to drag it ashore, Rymar was in no condition to help and stayed up on the sandy beach. The fish was as long as Talut was tall, and even wider. A large bite had been taken out of the lower neck of the fish on one side, probably by a shark, but the rest of him was in great shape. The two spears were still intact, just a few inches apart from each other stuck deeply into the body of the fish a little behind his fat head with his oddly fat lips.
Crag could see now how the boys had been pulled under so easily and quickly. This was one huge, powerful fish. He knew that he would have to spend some time with his young hunters, they needed to learn their limits. Their experience would surely help this lesson go easier, he thought as he admired the huge grouper.
Once they got the fish up past the breaking water, they started cutting her up.
**********
Nezzie sat at the fire with Bralut in her lap. Ooga sat on one side of her and Deegie on the other with Brydag suckling noisily on her breast. Ooga tickled Bralut's fat belly, watching the boy coo and giggle and trying erratically to catch Ooga's finger with his hands.
"Happy babies, fat babies." Nezzie said softly, smiling at Bralut's cute antics when Ooga allowed him to catch her finger. He pulled her finger from side to side, grinning as Ooga kept pulling lightly against him. Nezzie felt a movement in her lower belly and put her hand on it, feeling a flush of warmth and happiness like she hadn't felt in a long, long time.
Deegie smiled, she couldn't have said it better herself. She had pretty much decided that she was indeed blessed again, and wondered when she should tell Branag. Deegie was sure he would be thrilled, but dreaded the extra attention he had given her when she was pregnant with Brydag. Her strapping mate had treated her like she was fragile, over protective to a point that he smothered her with his constant demands that she rest and take it easy. It all stemmed from love, she knew, but it was tiresome to be treated like a helpless child. Maybe this time it would be different.
**********
With their baskets full to overflowing and three additional tied skins of plants, roots, and crab apples, the healers started back to camp. Happy of what all they had found, they had a spring in their step as they wandered through the trees.
Brenan led them back and carried the bulk of the load, he had tied the three loose skins together and had them slung over his shoulders with a single throwing spear in his right hand. Latie carried a spear as well, and had her heavy basket at her left side bouncing off her hip as she walked.
A pair of squirrels chattered at them from the safety of the tree above them. Brenan grinned at the way the loudest of the two lay stretched out facing them hanging onto the bark of the tree with just his back feet. The squirrel continued to chastise them as they passed by.
Coming around a short stand of briars, a pair of motley colored ptarmigan broke from the grass and flew away from them with a drumming of beating wings. Both birds had already started putting on their white winter feathers and looked a little strange during the transition. It took them no time at all to get out of sight and away.
"Look at that! Mushrooms!" Tressie said excitedly, pointing to a scattered growth of fresh mushrooms surrounding a fallen log that was over half decayed and rotting.
"Onions too!" Latie echoed as she reached the shaded spot.
Brenan smiled as the three women headed straight for it to gather the tasty vegetables. He stopped and waited patiently, gazing up at the treetops. A single hawk sat on a flimsy branch silhouetted beautifully in the blue sky beyond, watching them closely. He swayed as the soft breeze moved the thin leaf covered branch. Multi colored with brown, tan, and black feathers covered the hawk's wings and back, and his chest was a bright stark white with thin strips of tan. What a magnificent creature, Brenan thought as he admired the large predator.
The hawk looked down at him with his black, fearless eyes and his dull orange curved beak with the black tip opened and closed slowly as if he were talking to Brenan. He spread his wide wings and dropped off the branch, dipping into the slight breeze and soared up and away out of sight.
**********
With as many hunters as had gone on the trip, it was easy going on the return trek back to camp. No one had too much to carry as they had completely butchered the moose and distributed the load amongst the men.
The late afternoon sun beat down warmly on them, but the mediocre heat of the day was waning fast. The puffy clouds had pretty much all blown on throughout the day, and the sky was clear and a beautiful shade of light blue. The salty smell of the soft breeze that blew in off the sea was a constant, pleasant companion.
When they reached the crossing place over the rock ridge, they were surprised at the smell of cooking fish on the breeze. It had been a long day, and the succulent smells encouraged them, with Talut leading the way at a quick pace with Danug right behind him.
It wasn't long before he and Danug were out of sight of the rest of them, following their noses back to camp.
**********
Tressie and Etra treated Brug's cut wrist. The slash was a pretty long one but not very deep, he had cut himself while trying to cut the cord while struggling with the grouper. Tressie tied four thin strips of leather soaked in marigold flower extract in a crisscross pattern around his wrist and forearm. This held the skin in place and Etra wrapped a wider strap around it all to protect and keep it clean.
Brug sat and watched it all impassively, masking the pain like any good man of the Clan would. Having seen what Tressie had done to help the Mog-ur when he had been on the very verge of death, Brug just knew she could heal anything. He still felt a little queasy, and this was harder for him to hide from the experienced medicine women. Brug had gotten more than one hefty swallow of seawater and he kept feeling like he needed to puke, shat, or eat something. He couldn't decide which his churning stomach needed, so when Etra handed him a cup of sour smelling tea he wrinkled his nose at first.
'Will help stomach, and pain in arm. Drink.' Etra signed with a commanding forcefulness that Brug didn't even consider questioning. Only when it concerned anything medicinal did Etra show such a strong, commanding presence, otherwise she was as demure as any other Clan woman.
Crag and Mortan walked over following the Mog-ur. They all sat down around Brug, Mortan patting his shoulder as he settled in beside him. Mortan held out a small platter with a piece of freshly browned, heavily seasoned fish on a soft, steamed bed of seaweed. It smelled great and Brug quickly decided that this was just what his odd feeling belly needed, at least he hoped it was.
Brug drained the last of the sour, slightly bitter brew and handed the cup back to Etra with a slightly sour look on his face. She exchanged it for another steaming cup that smelled a whole lot better, and Tressie looked over at him and smiled. Brug sipped the hot brew and was grateful when the pleasant tasting tea began to dissipate the bitter aftertaste that lingered on the back of his tongue.
'Arm will be fine, no hunt three day—let heal.' Tressie signed, with a smile on her face.
Brug nodded his head solemnly, accepting her instructions without question. She was a medicine woman after all. The smell of the fish in his lap wafted up to him and he reached down and pinched off a small piece. Steam rose from the break in the filet, and when he put the morsel in his mouth it was so tender it almost melted without him even chewing it. It was very tasty, but hot. Brug's eyes shone with appreciation as he swallowed it and reached for another.
Crag sipped his tea while Brug ate, watching him for any lingering signs of their ordeal. Mog-ur observed both boys as well, he was impressed by the way they were dealing with the close call they had just endured. They acted more and more like men, like true hunters, all the time. Crag still felt a bit nauseous himself, but the herbal tea Etra had given him and the slice of hot fish was settling his stomach a little at a time.
Though not much of a swimmer, Crag had saved the boys and managed to pull them both back onto the safety of the rocks. He had managed by the sheer force of his will, the power of his incredibly strong body, and the sudden and intense fear of losing either of these boys he had grown so close to. Only after they were both safely back on the rocks did he feel any fear of what he had just done. The adrenalin rush from his efforts and the fact he had also swallowed a fair amount of seawater had hit him all at once, and he had retched his guts out in the salty water. Crag's inner tranquility was fully restored now, and with the sick feelings slowly leaving him, his body was following suit gradually, feeling stronger and more normal.
Mog-ur had given a lot of thought to the fact that they had almost lost these two young hunters, he was still extremely distressed about losing Aba and the child she carried. The people of the Clan that were left was so small in number that he feared for their very survival. The next generation that the Clan women all carried in their swelling bellies right now was the best hope they had for their future. Having been joined by these Others increased their chances of proliferation, and Mog-ur knew that it was the best chance they had to endure as a Clan. Indeed, he thought, Ursus is still watching over us, and pleased with the course we've taken.
**********
The hunters returned to a feast of fresh fish, and Nezzie and Marsie set up a second spit to start cooking the moose. Inca and Ova set out slicing the meat while Tricie and Silvie seasoned it with little Ooga helping every step of the way.
Talut and Danug were the first to fill platters with fish filets and steamed seaweed, and were amongst the last still going back for more. Both of them managed to get the first taste of moose as well, though still a little raw when they snuck a slice when no one was looking.
Branag stayed glued to Brug, after hearing their harrowing tale he felt like he had somehow lost him and got him back all at the same time. Brug was secure with the extra attention, and it helped to make up for Aba not being there for him. Though upset at their ordeal, Branag kept the conversation light and upbeat. The last thing he wanted was for Brug or Mortan either one to lose their zest for hunting.
Deegie brought Brydag over for Branag to watch when he finished eating, and took his nearly spotless platter away with her. Brug's eyes lit up when Branag lay Brydag on his knees and the boy reached out for Brug with both hands. Brug let Brydag grab his fingers and played tugging games with him, Branag watched contentedly, glad of the growing bond between them. He couldn't help but to be proud of the two sons of his hearth, and the incredible warm feelings they gave him.
Mortan sat with Rymar and Wymez, explaining their fateful fishing excursion in excruciating detail, and what all they had learned from the experience. Every hunter of the Clan sat in, they were all used to Mortan's signing as he spoke by now and had no trouble contributing to the conversation. The Clan hunters were in awe of Crag, most times when a member of the Clan got in trouble in the water it was fatal. The fact he had rescued both boys increased his standing all the more, no man of the Clan was much of a swimmer.
**********
Over the next eight days, they hunted the fertile valley twice more bagging two aurochs and another female moose. Brug was cleared to hunt again after three days of agonizing forced rest by Tressie, and he, Mortan, and Crag made up for lost time. They brought in a steady supply of fish, crustaceans, and crabs. Wymez and Rymar often watched from the beach as they worked up and down the breakwater.
A good amount of greens and other vegetables were found and gathered from the woods west of the rock mound. Carrots, fat roots, mushrooms, cabbage, and onions were all harvested and packed away. Tricie and Ralev even came across a small apple tree with a few slightly overripe green apples still clinging to some of the upper branches. Druwez and Crisavec made quick work climbing the wide spindly branches to gather what they could. They pulled up enough seaweed to enhance meals for some time to come, keeping only the tender, newest growth from the outer reaches of the tough stems.
The healers dried and processed herbs, leaves, roots, flower buds, and other useful plant parts. Grinding, shredding, and scraping, they were all able to replenish most of the medicines they were short on. Medicine bags bulged heavily with full pouches.
The cooking fires were in constant use as they cooked up most of the fresh meat, and a drying rack stayed full of meat and fish alike. With the onset of cooler weather and the constant need to keep moving, they wanted to be well supplied for the next leg of their journey. Nezzie and Inca boiled down three full stew skins of salt water and had a nice supply of sea salt packed away for cooking and for use in preserving some of the cooked meats.
It was a relaxing, but busy time, and a lot was accomplished. The supplies bulged and overflowed all their containers, and every meal was a feast. New baskets were made and hides worked, smoked, and cured. Clothes were repaired and new footwear made for nearly all of them from the single heavy skin of the large aurochs bull that had been killed on the second hunting trip in the valley.
Draag was presented with a marvelous new tunic made from the hide of the saber toothed tiger. Several women had worked on it together in secret and made it in the modified style that the Clan now wore. It was as soft and pliable as it was beautiful and he was more than pleased with the surprise gift. He wore it with pride, even though it was still a little heavy for this time of year.
Everyone fleshed out a little from the extended stay and the abundance of rich, healthy foods. They all felt strong and refreshed, and ready for whatever waited around the next bend. Even Rymar was feeling stronger and walking better, he worked on his stamina daily taking long walks with Wymez. He only used the cane that Druwez carved for him late in the afternoons when his leg tired.
On the ninth day, they moved on.