Chapter Twenty Five
Rocks, Mud, and Rainbows
Part Two
Branag took in the small stand of trees. They were all about the right diameter, and the leaves were correct, but these trees were considerably taller than the ones they usually had found. The grouping of this small forest was tight too, much tighter than normal. Branag wondered why this would be as he tried to get a count of the best trees to cut for support posts.
They had been exploring to the northeast of the camp for the better part of the afternoon. Having finished up, at least for now, the materials that Draag needed, it was time to locate more support poles for Vincavec. The woods they had gone through were mostly pretty sparse and easy to traverse, but populated with the extremely dense hardwood that was so difficult to cut. Vincavec didn't need the poles to be that hard, and he was in search of the softer, easier to harvest trees with the now familiar leaf patterns.
When they reached the edge of the woods, this stand had come into view, looking like a small island in the middle of a grass covered meadow. As they approached, it became obvious that the stand wasn't nearly as small as it had looked from a distance.
"This is perfect." Ludeg said, standing beside him. "We can get a lot of usable poles from here."
"Why do these trees grow so close together, it's not like this elsewhere?" Stolie asked, her hand on the small of Jozen's sweaty back.
Leave it to Stolie, Branag thought, to ask the same questions I have. He stared at the outer edges of the stand, trying to discern this odd, compact growth. Small rocks broke through the ground, obvious and easy to see in the short grass. Several places looked to be completely void of grass all together, and when he concentrated on these bare spots, he saw that the ground was almost solid rock there. This is an odd place, Branag thought to himself as a short gust of cool air blew through.
"The ground looks pretty rocky, maybe these trees don't do well in this kind of broken up soil." Jozen said, thinking aloud.
"Maybe." Ludeg said softly.
"Let's check it all out first. Jozen, you and Stolie circle the stand that way." Branag said pointing to the left. "Ludeg and I will go this way and we'll meet you on the back side of the stand."
"Weapons up." Ludeg said, fitting a spear into his spear thrower.
They separated, circling the stand slowly. It was pretty easy to see into the stand a good way, even through the darkness of the shade. The ground around the edge of the stand was indeed rocky. Loose rocks jutting up out of the ground and large flat rocks were partially exposed as well. Thin, short grass grew in small clumps where soil was available and also, a few brightly colored wild flowers and weeds intermixed with the deep greens of the short grasses.
The ground was pretty flat in all directions out from the stand, and the greenery increased as the rocky ground seemed to break up. To the right, brush began gradually a few hundred steps out as it spread back into sparse, low lying trees again. To the left, the grass expanded into a large green meadow for a while before the brush began again there.
Branag and Ludeg came around the right side of the stand. Far to the right, a small group of waterbuck females with several young took off for the safety of the trees beyond. A little closer in, a single, naked looking rhinoceros stood grazing peacefully. He paid them no attention at all.
When they cleared the trees, Branag and Ludeg saw a huge rock formation that stuck up out of the ground in the distance straight ahead. The broken rocks stuck up three times as tall as a man was tall, with huge boulders that over time had broken off and fallen. A few gnarly, short, twisted trees grew from the sometimes large cracks within the formation. The woods didn't begin again for some distance back behind the outcrop. Dark colored animals were perched all over it and the grounds immediately surrounding it.
From the left side of the stand of trees, Jozen led Stolie around to see the odd formation at about the same time. They froze in place, as astounded as Branag and Ludeg were on the other side.
The dark colored baboons yapped and screeched as soon as they saw the humans. Adults rushed out to herd up the youngsters, and soon they were all perched back up on the upper portions of the rocks and some climbed up into the short trees. Suddenly from the right side of the formation, a huge, mostly silver colored baboon rushed at them. He stopped thirty steps away from the rock, and stood up on his haunches. The baboon screamed out at them, then lunged forward a couple of bounds, stopping to pound his from feet on the ground, angrily threatening them to stay away with more screeching cries.
"Didn't Wymez say that baboons could be aggressive if they thought that they were threatened?" Ludeg asked softly.
"Yep, I believe he did." Branag said, grasping the spear securely in his hand.
**********
Brug pulled the string back to where the butt of the arrow was close to his ear, sighted down the arrow to the target and sent another arrow flying. It struck the target area a little high and to the right of the center. The arrow disappeared into the stack of cut grass. Brug stopped and readjusted the thin piece of leather he had tied around his left forearm, the slapping recoil of the string knocked it down toward his hand very other shot or so. The small wrap was Mortan's idea, and it was a good one. The slapping of the string still hurt, but nothing like it did against bare skin.
Mortan handed him another arrow, and Brug knocked it into place. He pulled back against the string, then let the pressure off to pull the butt of the arrow a little higher up the stretched vine. Re-seating it, he tried again.
Just as Brug pulled the arrow back close to his ear again, the bow snapped in two with a loud crack. The small section of the upper part slapped against Brug's shoulder, leaving a bright red whelp. Brug scowled, a little from the pain, but mostly from the fact that the bow had broken.
Mortan jumped back from the loud crack, then grimaced when he realized what had just happened. He saw the whelp on Brug's shoulder, and reached over to touch it lightly where a thin line of blood seeped from the edge of the rapidly spreading redness.
'You all right?' He signed as he wiped the thin trickle of bright red blood away to look at the wound. It was nothing serious.
Brug scowled, holding the main body of the bow out to inspect it. He signed back with his free hand. 'Not hurt, just angry.'
To Brug's surprise, Mortan laughed. He gave his friend a strange look, watching Mortan's face grow red as he laughed harder. Mortan slapped his other, uninjured shoulder and laughed some more.
Brug had a hard time finding anything funny about the broken bow, but the more Mortan laughed, the less anger he was able to feel. Before long, fat tears started running down his friend's face, and Brug started feeling the irritating contagiousness of his laughing hunting partner. He chuckled as it all became hopeless to hold on to the strong feelings of his own inadequacies. The more he thought about it, the funnier it all got.
Mortan signed in a jerky, haphazard motion. 'Not learn throw spear in a day.'
Brug suddenly laughed aloud, his deep, guttural voice resonating over the small clearing. Mortan was right, if it was worth doing, he would make ten more bows if necessary to figure it all out.
The key was, they had tasted success. It could be done, and they now knew it. Besides, they had already learned a lot.
Brug laughed again as Mortan took the broken bow from his hands and slapped it at the shattered end, grinning broadly.
Mortan looked at him, and nodded. 'We can do this.' He signed, then laughed out loud again. Mortan handed the broken bow back to Brug and turned to go out and fetch the arrows from the pile of grass, and those that had missed.
Brug nodded, then chuckled some more as he studied the broken weapon that had taken so long to make.
**********
Latie set the two rocks up against the short knee wall of rock at the back left corner of the main lodge. She pulled a short piece of vine from her belt and strung it between the rocks. The rocks were a little too close together, and she moved one out a little more. It was hot in the structure, even though it sat in the shade of the huge trees to the rear. The air was hot, and no real breeze came through. Sweat dripped into her eyes, and when she used the back of her hand to wipe it away, the burning only got worse. She sat back, stringing the short measure of vine again. This time the distance between the rocks matched the length of vine correctly.
A small, soft gust of wind came through the open doorway where Brenan and Rymar held the new door open but in place while Jaycie did something to the top of it. Wymez observed the work, standing behind them. From here, Latie couldn't see just what they were doing, but the brief breeze had felt awfully good.
She got up and walked over to them, pausing to look at Jaycie weaving a small circle of thinly stripped vine through the door frame and the support post. Latie smiled at Brenan who sat on the ground holding the bottom of the door, leaning down to give him a quick kiss. Brenan cupped her bare breast with his free hand as she kissed him, then looked terribly disappointed when she pulled back and went on her way.
Latie walked over to the ever growing pile of stones to the right side of the lodge. Rug and Frebec were there, having just dropped off another few stones. When they saw her starting to pick up a particularly long stone, they got it for her. She smiled and thanked them, and led them back to the lodge. They set the long, flat stone over the two Latie had in place, creating a low shelf.
Frebec stood up, wiping sweat off his forehead, Rug did the same.
"Frebec, isn't there anything we can do to get some breeze blowing through here?" Latie asked.
Frebec thought about it for a moment, noticing the heat and still air inside the lodge pretty much for the first time. Since helping to construct the roof and the walls, he hadn't spent any time at all to speak of inside it during the day. It was hot in here, he thought, and bean to study his surroundings for a solution.
"It works!" Wymez exclaimed from the doorway. All attention from those working inside the lodge quickly centered on the four of them at the doorway.
"Wow." Brenan said, pulling the door open and closed slowly.
The people all gathered around, watching.
Jaycie had woven three rings of stripped cane through the door frame and the support poles, and the door pivoted inside the rings. It was a little rickety, it dragged the ground on the far side, and there was no way to secure it to the other side yet, but it did indeed work. It was quite the accomplishment, and Jaycie glowed under the constant praise, especially that which came from Wymez.
Frebec got closer and studied the technique, it was clever, but simple. An idea began to form slowly in his mind.
**********
Mog-ur thought about these new family size huts being built back at the camp. This was a radical departure from Clan ways and traditions, he almost chuckled as his thoughts roamed. So many things we do now bare stark contrast to Clan ways, he thought, wondering again if Ursus would be displeased with them as these strange changes in their ways continued. Thus far, the blessings of Ursus, and Mut, seemed to be upon them, he thought. The richness of their lives only seemed to increase as time went on. Doesn't this show that Ursus is pleased with us, he wondered again, why else would he endow upon us all this bounty.
The strains of all this abstract thought was hard on the Mog-ur. Thinking in ways contrary to Clan ways was difficult, and sometimes proved to be a little scary. Mog-ur began to consider again the new living arrangements.
By established customs of the Others, he was expected to live in the main lodge with Latie, Brenan, and Bralut. This family of the Others would have one end of the lodge, while Mog-ur lived in the other. Mog-ur was to have the Clan leader, Rug, his mate Etra, and their young baby boy living with him.
He was stunned to learn this when Trull-ee had sat down to explain it all to him, and wasn't really all that sure of the many reasons she gave. The huge woman of the Others was pretty fluent in Clan signs, but Mog-ur hadn't quite grasped all the finer points she had tried to elaborate on.
Mog-ur wasn't at all displeased to share a home with Rug and Etra, they were good Clan people and easy to be with, but it was all so strange. As he pondered it all again, a fleeting thought made him feel warm inside. Rug had no problems sharing Etra with him to relieve his needs. Besides, he thought to himself with a measure of satisfaction, Etra seemed to enjoy the extra attention well enough, though she was too good a Clan woman to ever show it openly.
None of the other living arrangements had been formalized as yet, but they had been discussed at some length that the leaders of the Others would be in the far outside huts. Mog-ur still wondered about this, especially since these would be the last huts to be built. The way these Others prioritized things was often baffling to him, but Mog-ur tried not to dwell on it too much. No matter how hard he might try, thinking like these people did was simply beyond his realm of understanding. They rarely did stupid things though, so going along with their odd ways was usually easy enough to do.
A rustling from the grass off to Mog-ur's left got his attention. He reached over and grasped the finely made spear and watched patiently. The tall grass parted where something walked, swaying enough for Mog-ur to ascertain that whatever it was, it was coming right at him. He took a deep breath, and followed the movements of the grass.
A bright, multi-colored bird emerged through a small swatch of low grass. The magnificent creature stopped when he saw the Mog-ur, then fanned his tail as the feathers on top of his head stood straight up majestically. The tail of the bird was extraordinarily wide and full, with abundantly colored and patterned feathers. The bird raised up, poking his colorful chest out and slowly stretched his curved wings out to his sides. In the bright sunlight, the colors of the bird almost seemed to leap off him and create a glow around him. Though not overly large, it was a bout the size of a guinea, but all flared out and puffed up like this he looked three times his normal size. The multi-colored bird was as beautiful as anything Mog-ur had ever seen.
Mog-ur jumped a little when the bird started crying out. It started with a high pitched call that began to undulate into an eerie sounding song, the likes of which Mog-ur had never heard before. As the stunning bird began the second repetition of his eerie song, Mog-ur smiled inside. He would never have guessed that such a beautiful bird could make such a terribly frightening sound.
Somehow, as the bird relaxed his stance and slowly began to pick up seeds from the ground and feed, unconcerned with Mog-ur's presence, a new thought came to him. It took him a while to come to grips with this idea, but as he thought it through it started making sense.
Just because something didn't sound like it appeared, it didn't make it necessarily bad, he realized. Perhaps this was true with the way the camp was being set up, his reasoning continued. Maybe by living separately-but still close together, the bonds of his people would actually grow in strength.
Mog-ur's abstract thoughts continued as he explored them one by one as the magnificent creature slowly worked his way back into the cover of the taller grass as he fed casually. The breeze blew in cool off the edge of the cliff in soft gusts.
**********
"Hold on, Talut." Ranec said as he pulled a small hand held axe from his belt. "I need to smooth off the knot a little more so it will seat right."
Talut lifted the heavy log back up to the center of his thigh, and Danug pulled his end up as well. The bottom of the log was still rounded in its natural shape, though the bark had been removed at both ends. Ranec knelt down, then lay on his side and looked up at the bottom of the log. He ran his hands over the slight bump, then began chipping away at the small extrusion with his axe.
Draag pulled a long piece of vine from the hanging basket of water, and turned to watch Ranec for a moment before reaching down into the water to find another. He rejected the vine he fished out of the hanging skin, but seemed satisfied enough with the second one he pulled out.
"Try it now." Ranec said as he scooted out from under the framework of the bottom of the steps a little way, but still peered up at the log.
Talut and Danug lowered the log back down, and Ranec helped them to position it correctly. This time it seated much better, the split, flat top aligning much closer to the one directly in front of it.
Draag waited until Ranec stood back up before tossing him one of the two lengths of vine. They each took one side of the flattened log, and started the slow process of tying it securely in place. Danug and Talut held it tightly in place until the first vines were tied off. It took three separate vines each to finish the job.
There was only one more log left to secure, then this set of steps would be finished.
Danug and Talut took a walk down the gentle, mostly cleared slope of the terrace while Ranec and Draag worked. There were still several places that the walkway needed more work, but it was clear enough to walk down without too much trouble. They slowed down as the walkway narrowed and grew steeper.
"What do you think," Danug asked, pointing to the rubble where the rock terrace began to break up and dissipate. "Should we cut steps into the dirt the rest of the way down?"
The angle of the slope gradually lessened where the grass began in earnest and the cliff bulged out slightly toward the level grounds below. They were getting close now, perhaps four or five times Talut's body heights still above the flats.
Both men couldn't help but to observe the wildlife below. The flats absolutely teemed with it. The darkness of the largest herd covered the entire center of the wide grass covered flats, but the lighter colored animals that surrounded them gave off a pleasant multi-colored contrast. Striped horses, long antlered antelope and deer, stocky deep brown aurochs looking grazers, naked looking mammoth and rhinoceros, they were all there within the two men's line of sight. As were the predators. Two different prides of lions, the inevitable groups of hyenas, two packs of the ever moving, nervous acting dholes, and the tall spotted cats that were so fast, so very fast. It was easy to lose themselves in watching the slow moving activities of the constantly moving sea of life, and Danug and Talut both yearned to get down there to hunt.
Talut finally pulled his eyes away from the panoramic sea of animals, and tried to concentrate back on the task at hand. His mouth watered from the sight of so many potential meals, and his stomach rumbled.
"If we cut steps, we will need to line them with rock to prevent the rains from washing them out." Talut scratched the stubble of red and white hair on his chin, sweat ran down his face creating small clean streaks through the dust.
"That's what Draag said too." Danug said, grinning at Talut. "I guess all you old guys think the same way."
Talut hit Danug in his lower ribs with a quick elbow. Danug grunted as he stepped back, laughing aloud as he rubbed his ribs.
**********
Stolie leaned back against the tree in the shade, three throwing spears and an axe beside her. The sun was dropping steadily, and the reach of the shade stretched out far to her left.
The grey back baboon sat with a single youngster well out in front of the rock formation, staring back at Stolie with unblinking determination. The young baboon groomed the grey back from behind, pulling ticks from his thick fur and eating them as he went. The peaceful, but nervous standoff had continued throughout the long afternoon. Stolie heard someone approaching from within the stand behind her, and smiled broadly when she saw it was Jozen.
Jozen accepted a brief hug and kiss from his mate, then stared out at the huge baboon who looked freshly agitated by his approach.
"Has he been there all afternoon?" Jozen asked softly.
"Yes, the little one came out a little while ago to keep him company." Stolie said as she gathered up her spears. "He played with the young one for a little while, but he never took his eyes off me the whole time. It was kind of spooky, he seems awfully smart."
"Well, we have a full load ready to carry back. Let's get busy, I don't want to get behind Talut at this evening's meal."
Stolie chuckled and the two of them gathered up her weapons and meandered back into the stand of trees. She looked back over her shoulder one last time, but the baboon hadn't moved from his spot.
There was indeed a full load to be carried back. Posts as thick as the widest part of Jozen's well muscled thigh were piled high, cut to a length that was half again longer than he was tall. Several piles of trimmings ringed the pile, and more lay out in a tight perimeter. The men had cut most of the trees from the center of the stand, here they seemed to be pretty uniform in thickness, though they had varied in height a bit. This created a nice little clearing within the center of the stand, and there were quite a few more trees that met the criteria left to harvest.
Branag and Ludeg managed to carry two poles on each shoulder between them, but Stolie was only able to carry two poles total with Jozen. This left a sizable pile of cut logs, at least two more trips worth.
They started out slowly, shifting the weight of the heavy loads around until they got them situated as best they could for the long walk back. It took a little bit to get used to walking in tandem under the heavy load, but they all settled in after a little bit.
Ludeg glanced over his shoulder behind them often as they walked, trying his best not to let anything sneak up on them from behind.
**********
Frebec walked around the back side of the main lodge slowly, stopping every now and then to examine the tightly woven walls of split cane. He paid a little extra attention to where the mats were connected and overlapped at the support posts. Frebec had the beginnings of an idea, but so far it had been slow for him to work out the details. Latie was right, the still air inside the lodge was hot and stifling, they had to come up with some way to ventilate the structure adequately.
A small gust of air blew through, and Frebec felt a bit of hot air on the back of his neck. He stopped and reached his hand up to where the walls met the edges of the slanted roof. There was a small gap where the two parts of the structure met, and Frebec could feel some of the hot air escaping from there. He took a few steps forward, and reached his hand up again, feeling the same thing here. This is odd, he thought to himself, this new discovery adding to the growing bits of information he was trying to sort out in his mind. His brow wrinkled in thought as he moved on down the length of the lodge slowly.
By the time Frebec rounded the back corner of the lodge, the idea he was working on was beginning to take shape. He stopped for a moment to watch some of the workers as they dug holes or planted the long support poles for the new lodge. The two new lodges were coming along nicely, he thought absently as he passed. Frebec then walked on back around to the newly installed door.
Brenan and Rymar were discussing the details of some kind of latch they needed to make to hold the door closed as he approached. Rymar was busy describing something, using his hands to illustrate his idea with exaggerated motions while Brenan followed along.
Frebec stopped short of them a few steps away, studying the door structure. Deep in thought, it came to him like a sudden rainstorm all at once. The framework, he realized all at once, that's what had been missing from his original idea. Frebec felt his heart beating rapidly as he tried to picture this new version of his idea in his mind. Stick by stick, cut by cut, he went through the process of building the flap in his mind all over again. On the third repetition of the constantly evolving idea, he grinned. This will work, he thought with confidence. It will.
**********
Brug reached up and pulled down on the thick branch, it was stiff and strong and as big around as his forearm. The leaf pattern was correct, this was the dark brown wood that was so hard and overly difficult to work with.
Mortan grinned, they had been looking for a low lying limb that was the correct size that they could easily get to for a while. Where the branch began jutting out from the trunk, it was still a little high up and out of reach, but this one was doable. He reached up and grabbed the limb with both hands, and with a quick and powerful swinging motion slung his leg up and over the branch. Mortan shinnied up onto the branch, then crawled back toward the trunk of the tree while Brug held tension on the limb.
Brug let go of the limb once Mortan was all the way up and settled, and stepped back out of the way to watch. Mortan had to climb over a stray limb before he reached the trunk, and maneuvered his body into a sitting position, leaning against the trunk with his bare feet dangling.
Mortan pulled the short axe handle from his belt, and reached out a little away from his thigh and started chopping. The strokes he used were short and controlled, the wood was so hard that if he used much power it could easily damage the brittle flint blade of the axe.
Brug watched as Mortan worked, the lingering feelings of frustration of his most recent broken bow seemed to dissipate just a little with every stroke of Mortan's axe. The success they had with the last bow, and the discoveries they had made along the way were encouraging enough. Brug didn't consider giving up on the development of this new weapon, no matter how difficult and frustrating it could be. This thought never even entered his mind.
**********
Mog-ur was caught by surprise as the memory came to him suddenly, he was busy pondering something else entirely at the time. It's strange the way these things happen, he thought as he looked back out into the grass for the wildly colored bird. Pea-cock, this was what this beautiful animal was named, he knew this now-his memories had just told him so, and more. This bird was considered a delicacy, rich and tender, it was one of the best tasting of all the many breeds of edible fowl that inhabited the Land of the Sun. The peacock was long gone as he looked around where he had been before, and try as he might, Mog-ur had a hard time returning to his train of thought that had just been interrupted.
The ancient Clan memories sometimes, though not too often, seemed to have a life all their own. Mog-ur had experienced this before, when the memories acted in such a strange and disturbing way, but it was a usually a pretty rare occurrence. He had delved into his memories briefly a short time ago, searching for any scraps of information about this colorful bird, but had abandoned the effort to concentrate on other things. More important things that had a more immediate bearing on his Clan.
It would still be some time before the decisions would need to be finalized, but Mog-ur knew he had to consider all the possibilities now to be of use later. The two new lodges were already being built, and the groupings of who would live where was something that had to be considered now as opposed to later.
Mog-ur knew that the future of this Clan would be forever intertwined with this diverse group of the people of the Others. Our numbers are simply too few to go out and live on our own now, he thought. This was nothing new, as he had been forced to consider this situation many times in the past. Before, he had thought that though difficult, they would be able to thrive on their own, but now? This possibility seemed more than a little remote, but if they stayed here much longer they would no doubt never leave.
The Clan had lost three adults on this arduous journey. Three precious, productive Clan members. Two experienced hunters and a woman, Brug's mother. Mog-ur felt the stab of pain in his heart for these cherished people, now residing with in the spirit world with Ursus instead of here with the rest of them. He wished that they had been able to see this land, the land of their ancestors. Mog-ur missed them all, it seemed somehow unfair for them to have survived the calamity that the raiders of the Others inflicted on them, only to have perished on the journey.
What about Brug, he wondered, not for the first time. The young hunter had all but been formally adopted by Branag. Brug was probably old enough and mature enough now to have his own hearth, but he was so close to Branag and Deegie it would be a shame to take his new home away from him. The lad had already gone through so much in his short life. Losing the man of his hearth, then his mother. Taking Brug away from his new home and family with Branag and Deegie was out of the question. No, Mog-ur decided suddenly, this cannot be done.
Mog-ur took a deep breath, the decision was made and he felt his hands shake softly. The Clan would stay, this was their new home, here, now, and forever more. The implications of this realization washed over the Mog-ur in waves. Good or bad, this was how it would have to be, his hands shook a little harder for a moment before he was able to control them by squeezing them into tight fists.
Survival was now insured, within Ursus' overall plans for them, of course. The glistening sheen of sweat that covered his hairy body all the sudden became cold. This may be the beginning of the end of our traditional way of life, he thought, but has it already been lost?
Mog-ur knew that this Clan was no longer really a Clan as it had once been, something that had been made abundantly clear when they had come across a hunting party of Clan early on in their journey. He revisited this memory of the encounter, and confirmed his thoughts. No other Clan would see them as true Clan now, they were just too different. The way they dressed, the way they had modified the tight structure of status that ruled the Clan, they way they were more able to learn new things, new ways of living.
A slight breeze blew in over the cliff, chilling the Mog-ur even more in the midst of the heat of the day. Alone, without these people of the Others, this Clan was alone in the world. This thought chilled him to the bone, and forced Mog-ur to take another deep breath.
'Mighty Ursus,' Mog-ur looked up into the light blue sky, signing eloquently and with every nuance of the spiritual leader that he was. 'Are we doing what you wish us to do? Is this the way we are to live? If we live here with our friends, these clever people of the Others, will we be lost forever to the ways of the mighty Cave Bear?'
Mog-ur stared up into the bright blue sky, searching, hoping for an answer. Every fiber of his being was concentrated, looking for a sign, any sign. Everything Mog-ur knew or ever thought he knew was now suddenly in doubt. What would be the consequences if he were wrong, if Ursus' wishes for this Clan were different than this plan to stay here. Chill bumps ran over his entire body, again.
Nothing. No sight, no sound, nothing out of the usual presented itself.
Is this the way, he wondered again. What if I am wrong? For the first time since he had been healed by Tress-ee and Trull-ee so very long ago, Mog-ur had serious doubts, doubts about his own judgement concerning the future and well being of his Clan.
Mog-ur watched the sky for a long moment longer, then still seeing nothing, closed his eyes. He slowly slipped into a deep trance.
**********
Though they were quiet, Mog-ur heard Brug and Salen get up and gather their things to go out and take the second watch of guard duty. Danug and Troog were almost equally quiet as they came into the tent, their shifts finished. Mog-ur had been staring up at the ceiling of the tent for hours, sleep alluding him. He heard every subtle sound in the night, and some that weren't so subtle at all.
Salen stoked the small fire in the center of the tent, and in no time the soft light glowed a little brighter. A small cloud of smoke developed, and rose up slowly toward the smoke hole at the apex of the tent, casting odd shaped shadows off the stretched hides.
Talut and Branag seemed in the midst of a snoring contest, which Branag was currently winning. Frebec joined them occasionally with a decent effort of his own, though he was quiet enough for now.
Tressie moaned softly when Danug lay down beside her at the far end of the tent, and it wasn't long before Mog-ur could hear the beginnings of what promised to be a romantic encounter. He stared up at the flickering light from renewed fire, watching the wisps of smoke rise like clouds. His mind was still too preoccupied to sleep, and he began to think again about the old ways of the Clan. Mog-ur was restless, fidgety, and wide awake-still.
Mog-ur sat up, he would get no sleep tonight, he knew that for sure now. Quietly, he rolled over and got to his feet, careful to not disturb Etra sleeping beside him with baby Cruug cuddled contentedly at her side. Rug was not beside her, and Mog-ur wondered briefly where he was, knowing that Rug was not scheduled for guard duty this night. He picked up a sleeping fur and threw it over his shoulders as he made his way out of the tent, stepping carefully around prone bodies.
The cool night air greeted him with a clean smelling freshness that the tent could never match, and he pulled the spotted deer wrap over his hairy chest with his hand. The central fire was freshly stoked, casting a bright glow over camp. The smooth paving stones felt warm on his bare feet as he walked toward the fire. To the right, the dark sky was riddled with bright shimmering stars and a glowing crescent moon in a mostly clear sky.
The tea basket sat near enough to the fire to keep its contents warm, and Mog-ur dipped himself a cup and took a seat on a nearby seating log. The tea was a pleasant mix, and Mog-ur could taste a little of the tangy ingredient that Etra said helped keep the guards awake and alert. Mog-ur was a little surprised that the name of the plant escaped him, he usually had no trouble remembering such things.
To the southeast, the soft glow of a perimeter fire flickered under the dark canopy of the far end of the arc of tall trees. He could make out the profile of a man walking slowly with a long throwing spear in his hand as he made a round at the edge of the firelight. Another, smaller and more distinct figure sat near the fire working diligently on a long piece of wood. Brug, it had to be.
Looking back up to the northwest, the glow of this perimeter fire was farther away and cast a much softer light. No guards were in sight there, and Mog-ur caught a slowly moving shadow as his eyes panned slowly over toward the last perimeter fire off to his left. At the last fire, he saw a man standing, facing diligently away from the camp.
Insects sang out in the darkness, chirping and droning in soft waves that seemed to undulate in a wide circle around the camp. Over and over, round and round in a concerted, harmonic song that could easily lull one into a peaceful meditation or put you to sleep. This was such a peaceful place, he thought as he listened droning, slowly moving song.
Soft footfalls brought the Mog-ur's attention back, and he recognized Rug's wide, muscular shape coming toward him from his left. Rug set his spear down against the log and sat down next to him.
'Is everything all right?' Rug's signs were especially elegant looking in the soft, flickering light.
Mog-ur nodded, and took a sip of tea before signing. 'You were on duty last night, why are you up tonight?'
'Just checking up on the guards.'
Mog-ur smiled inside, Rug was every bit the leader in every way. He took his responsibilities as seriously as any Clan leader that Mog-ur had ever known. Strange, Mog-ur thought, for one not born and trained to the position Rug was such an extraordinarily proficient, insightful leader.
"Ursus" watched over us as he led us here.' Rug said softly as he signed. 'We have paid a high price on this journey, but He has found us worthy. This is a good home for the Clan. The best.'
Mog-ur was startled by Rug's words, and for the first time since his doubts had begun to bother him, began having second thoughts about his trepidations. He looked up into Rug's deep brown eyes that sparkled in the firelight.
Rug had no idea how much his words had affected the Mog-ur. He took a deep breath as he leaned back and yawned.
**********
The guards all came in a little before the first signs of dawn. They finished off the tea and Inca instinctively came out of the tent and made more with her baby boy, Bak, contentedly at her breast.
Brug had the bundle of sticks he was working on, and took them into the south tent to put them away with Salen walking beside him. When they came out, Mortan and Troog came with them. They all had their hunting attire with them, as well as their weapons. The four hunters had a cup of tea, donned their camouflaged clothing, then left. Brug led them, heading through the canopy of trees and moving out to the southeast.
The tea was slightly stronger than usual, but the taste was tangy and refreshing, and hot. Mog-ur felt a little lethargic this morning as the first signs of the dawn appeared. He yawned as he thought more about the things Rug had said, and of the doubts he had been feeling for the last few days.
The entire idea that his Clan was no longer truly Clan, like the Clans of old anyway, bothered him more than he would have admitted. He wondered again if Ursus was disappointed, or angry, or if the mighty monarch of his people actually understood. Could Ursus understand that this was possibly the only way for this Clan to survive, Mog-ur thought it through again, to change and evolve and live more like these people of the Others did. His head ached slightly from the continuing efforts to try and figure it all out, especially after what Rug had said, now he had even more to consider.
Talut and Draag gathered up a few digging tools, and they joined Ranec and Danug at the fire to get a bite to eat. The cliff workers soon left out, off for another day digging and paving steps down the steep incline.
The camp around him turned into a busy place this morning, as Mog-ur sat near the fire and observed the many activities going on all around him. Etra knelt down beside him, and took his nearly empty tea cup and refilled it from the basket she carried over from near the fire. He gave he a slight nod as she handed the cup back to him, showing his appreciation for her attentiveness. Mog-ur took a sip, it was almost too hot to drink, and the slight aftertaste of chamomile stayed on the back of his tongue pleasantly.
Mog-ur watched the activities going on all around him, silently observing the many interactions between the people of the Clan and the Others. As he watched them, another thought entered his mind. The ease in which they all worked together was an amazing thing to see, there was no conflict or discomfort apparent between the two different peoples. Everyone seemed to know and accept their roles, the projects they worked on were both well defined but flexible at the same time. One could be working on one thing, then go off to a different project and blend right in there seamlessly. No problems of status or leadership were evident, and anyone who had an idea was heard without prejudice. This had to be the work of Ursus, didn't it, Mog-ur considered.
Inca and Nezzie fussed over the ground oven, cleaning it out and preparing it for another load of meat. The bed of ashes were carefully removed and swept clean with a broken off small branch with a lot of little twigs at the end, covered with small leaves. They worked together effortlessly, needing little conversation between them, and what there was, was a strange mix of signs and spoken words. One thing was evident, communication between them was no real barrier at all anymore.
Over behind the central fire, little Ooga carefully sliced up a large bundle of cattail shoots with a knife made in the fashion of the Others. She sliced them at an odd angle, creating long ovals of the vegetable pods that were bite sized. Inca and Silvie worked beside her, cutting up pre-cooked meat into small cubes and piling them up on a pelvic bone platter. Ova prepared a clump of green bananas for roasting, while Brecie washed and trimmed bad spots off a platter of tubers beside her. Mamie added fresh water to the hanging skin that already had fresh cut vegetables floating around. All these women worked together with a comfortable sense of ease.
There were several baskets of greens, roots, and other vegetables and fruits set around behind them from the previous days gather. This was indeed a bountiful land, the gatherers seldom needed to go out more than every other day.
Branag led his group of workers out of the camp heading east through the light woods beyond the clearing for another day of procuring materials. They carried only hunting weapons today, their first chore today was to bring back the rest of the wood they had cut yesterday.
Mog-ur watched them go, then shifted his gaze around the camp. He got up and strolled toward the lodges under construction in an unhurried, relaxed manner.
Over at the lodges to his right, the work was segregated into groups. Poles were being set and the loose dirt around the holes pounded in to set them firmly into place. Cross braces were held up and tied between the uprights, wrapped over and under in a criss-crossed fashion.
The knee wall of stacked rock was almost complete on the right side lodge, and a pile of rock waited near the other lodge. The flooring was in process on both lodges, and a steady stream of people brought rock in from afar.
Wide diameter canes were being split on the odd looking tool that the tool makers had fashioned, the uniform strips piled up on the opposite side of the waiting cane poles. Both piles were large, one side growing and the other side shrinking as the work continued.
Wymez and Rug seemed to be everywhere, giving advice and stopping to help hold up a pole or set a stone. Vincavec and Rymar did much the same thing, looking for someone to assist that needed help. It was all so well coordinated in a loose, almost haphazard fashion. The results, however, weren't haphazard in the least. The daily accomplishments were astounding, seen easily at the end of every day.
Strips of cane were being woven into more mats by several women sitting in a large circle facing each other. Conversation there was light, interrupted often by laughter.
Rugie brought over a crying infant and handed her to Matera who stopped what she was doing to put the baby to her breast. Matera stroked the baby girl's head as she clamped onto her nipple with an imminent sense of urgency. Rugie then sat down and took over weaving for Matera while she nursed her rapidly growing baby. Mog-ur was amazed at how the young girl shifted roles so easily.
Mog-ur wandered back over to the fire, refilling his cup from the basket. When he straightened up, the giggle of children got his attention and he looked over to the small enclosure where the smaller children and babies were kept. Fralie sat in the middle of the smaller kids, tickling little Bralut and making him giggle so hard that his fat belly rippled. She then tickled Aylie in much the same way, then started in on Ina. He was stunned when the stocky little Clan baby chuckled and waved her arms about at Fralie's efforts.
Nuvie played some kind of hand game with a pair of the other children. Mog-ur couldn't understand just what the purpose of this game was, but Bectie and Tonie played along with obvious delight. Nuvie gently slapped the outstretched hands of the two little girls as they held them out, alternating from one to the other. Then, Bectie and Tonie took turns doing the same thing to Nuvie in return.
It hit him again, there were only a few profound differences between the children of the Others and the Clan. Well, he thought, the Clan babies were considerably quieter than the overly vocal children of the Others. Mog-ur chuckled at them as he watched their strange, noisy antics.
**********
Stolie snuck around the outer edge of the stand of trees slowly and quietly. When she was far enough, she stopped and leaned out to look to the rock pile, they were gone. She took a deep breath and walked a little further. The baboons were nowhere to be seen as she scanned the meadow, but there was a few grazers that didn't appreciate her disturbing their morning meal. They scampered further away from the intruder, and kept a wary eye on her as they settled down to feed again.
Seeing no threats, Stolie walked back around the stand and joined back up with the others. They loaded up all the cut poles they could carry and headed back to camp. From the looks of the poles left over, another two or three trips would be necessary.
**********
Draag and Talut settled the heavy, flat stone into the freshly dug indention. It was a little too wide yet, and Talut pulled the stone up across his knees while Draag carved a the hole a little wider with a sharpened stick. The stone fit this time when they set it back into the carved dirt.
Danug and Ranec worked a little further down the steep incline. There were three freshly carved notches in the dirt between them and the stone setters above. Ranec sat back with a digging stick in his hands while Danug wrestled to remove a rounded rock as big as his head from the surface of the ground.
Draag stood up on the stone step, shifting his weight back and forth between his legs to seat the stone securely. Talut stood on the step above him, looking back up the incline. They had over a dozen steps carved and paved from the end of the last rock terrace now. He walked up three steps and picked up another wide, almost flat stone from the pile for the next step down below. It was heavy and cumbersome, and he checked his balance as he stood up straight before he started back down the steps.
Talut was used to working on the incline now, as they all were, but he still took his time about getting around. To fall from here would be a dangerous prospect, even though the were well over three quarters of the way down. To his right, he could see the dissipating cloud of mist from the waterfall in the distance. He was anxious to have access to the flats and to the woods surrounding the lake at the bottom of the falls. The subtle rainbow formed by the mists, just barely within his field of vision, always made him smile.
A low pitched thundering rumble came from the flats down below that got all their attention quickly. A huge herd of the darkest colored animals were on the move, dust kicking up all around them obscuring the herd from the center on back. At the rear of the herd, the reason for their sudden departure was evident. A large group of hyenas had scattered out and circled around a single animal and her youngster. It was not apparent how they had singled her out from the main body of the herd, but it didn't really matter, she and her young one were doomed.
The herd didn't move too far before they changed direction and gradually slowed. A pair of young males hung back at the rear of the herd, and faced the band of predators. They made no move to try and rescue the female though, and her demise was immanent.
The hyenas made short work of the kills, the lead female leading the attack on the adult first as a lesser female went at the youngster. The adult was set upon with a ferociousness that took her down quickly. The female circled, then lunged suddenly and grasped onto the underside of her neck, and several others joined in from all sides. They had her down quickly, knocking her off her feet by the sheer weight of their numbers.
The young one fared no better, surrounded and attacked from all sides, she fell to the rapid assault bawling out in a helpless voice. She hit the ground hard as a pair of hyenas lunged at her at the same time, knocking her down in a bloody frenzy.
It was all over, and the majority of the hyenas ripped the two apart methodically as a few ranged out to stand guard. The cackling laughs from the band was barely audible from the side of the cliff, but the sounds were no less chilling.
Talut shook his head and stepped down from stone to stone carefully, it was hard to see his feet past the wide rock. Draag stood on the last paved step, and pulled his eyes off the scene below and waited to help Talut set the next stone.
The cackling of the hyenas continued.
**********
Brug led his hunters back into camp, they all carried four guineas apiece, with Druwez carrying five. They were back much earlier than usual today, having come across the large group of fat birds watering at the creek near the pond. The hunters had pretty much figured out how to hunt these tasty birds, and were so efficient in their method that they had taken almost half the group this time.
The hunters dropped off their kills at the designated cleaning area, Etra and Inca hurried over with Tressie and Ooga right behind them to get the birds cleaned and prepared. Inca and Nezzie already had the ground oven ready to load and light in anticipation of the hunters being successful, they usually were.
Mog-ur's mouth watered at the thought of fresh guinea cooked in the ground oven, the fat birds were rapidly becoming one of his favorite meals. He closed his tired eyes and thought about finding a quiet, shaded place to take a nap, he was tired from lack of sleep.
Brug and Mortan fetched their bundles that held the new bows they were working on from the tent and walked over to a shaded area on the south side of the camp. They washed up and went to work.
Salen and Druwez cleaned up and went over to the lodges to go to work, blending in almost immediately in the flurry of activity there. Salen grabbed a paving stone from the pile, lugging it into the center of the right side lodge while Druwez grabbed a cross brace that was being wrapped with soaked strips of cane.
Mog-ur yawned, then got up off the log and wandered over near the children's enclosure. He spied an enticing spot near the trunk of one of the huge shade trees, and walked slowly toward it. Kneeling down, Mog-ur smoothed the leaves into a long, low mound and sat down in the middle of it. When he lay back, the soft crunching of the brittle, slightly sweet smelling leaves felt good on his weary body.
The last thing he thought, before drifting off to sleep, was that Rug had to be correct. Ursus was watching out for this Clan, he had to be, they could not have found such a perfect home without his blessing and guidance. The thought comforted the Mog-ur, and his nap was not interrupted with dreams.
**********
Brug pulled the open front tunic over his arms, one at a time, settling it over his chest with ease. Druwez adjusted a few of the stalks of camouflage at the center and left side of his back, and patted Brug's shoulder to let him know he was finished. Brug turned and did the same thing for Druwez, then Mortan after that.
Salen and Troog were already dressed in their hunting gear and waited patiently while sipping tea at the main fire. The dawn was still a little while away, and the perimeter guards were still out on station except for Rug, who wasn't really on guard duty, but was outside checking things out anyway as he often did.
Rug dropped in another pair of heating stones he fished out from the glowing embers with cleverly carved pieces of antler to start a new basket full of tea, the hunters had finished off the last of this basket. He watched the hunters get their clothes in order with the interest of the hunter that he was. Rug would have to go out with them soon, his curiosity was definitely piqued, they virtually never came back empty handed anymore. In fact, most days they were back in time to join in at the regular mid day meal.
'We will hunt to the southeast.' Brug signed to Rug who nodded back at him. Brug always let someone know which general direction they would be going, it was one of the courtesies that members of a camp this large needed to remember. As hunt leader, Brug never forgot.
Brug reached down and picked up his cup off the seating log and drained it, then handed it to Rug who had his hand held out and the young hunter led his group out of the camp. He followed a trail through the tall grass past the arc of large trees, and could see the bushes and small trees in the faint light as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness slowly. It didn't take long to reach the scattered beginnings of the woods, and they slowed significantly as they made their way into the trees.
An howl alerted the woods to their presence, hooting loudly several times before taking to wing. The sounds of his wispy soft wing feathers dissipated rapidly as he flew over the hunters and on to the east.
Brug slowed their pace, veering a little more easterly toward the creek. When they slowed they all became more purposeful, the sparse forest swallowed the soft sounds they made, and the hunters became as quiet as their surroundings. In the darkness, and their camouflaged clothes, they were almost invisible as well. Moving like shadows, they became one with the land.
**********
Branag and Danug came out of the tent together, stretching sore arms and shoulders and running their fingers through their long and unruly sleep tousled hair. They saw Rug at the fire, and walked over to join him. Rug offered them tea, and they all sat together on the closest log.
"Brug" and hunters gone?' Branag said and signed as Danug yawned loudly then buried his face in his free hand, almost spilling the tea in his other hand.
Rug nodded, then made a sweeping motion with his left arm in the direction they left. 'They are hunting the creek area to the east.'
Branag grinned, they always did well there. A bit of a honey hole, he thought to himself. Guinea, antelope, suidae, waterbuck, crocodile, they had taken all of this and more from the creek and pond area. The camp was getting short of the thick cane poles, and Branag was going to look for another patch of the sturdy plants to the southwest of the pond. Brug had seen them and told him about them, which was good, he had already harvested the bulk of the canes worth having from around the back side of the pond.
Talut yawned loud enough to get their attention, he was standing just outside the southern tent scratching his hairy chest with both hands. Danug yawned again as Talut came over to them. He sat down with a cup of tea next to Rug, and the four of them drank in silence for a while, enjoying the quiet of the early morning.
The sun rose slowly, first as only a distant, soft glow of pinks and purples. Songbirds sang in the new day, along with a few of the louder, screeching cries of peacocks from off in the direction of the cliff.
More and more camp members got up and around, especially the hungry babies and their still sleepy mothers. They spread out all over, most getting tea and/or a bite to eat from the hanging skin of leftover stew. For some reason, the older folks seemed to consistently beat the younger adults up most mornings, and today was no different.
"Where are you working today?" Wymez asked Branag as a very sleepy Tonie cuddled up to him in his lap. Her bare, skinny legs draped over his thighs all the way to the ground.
"We are going out to find a cane patch that Brug found down the creek to the west." Branag said, looking up at Wymez as he stroked Tonie's wild, wavy, deep reddish blonde hair away from the pretty little girl's face.
"Good, would you look for more of the thinner cane to bring back this time, I need to make new door frames for the new lodges."
Branag grinned as he nodded his head. "How many do you need?"
"Quite a lot, actually." Frebec broke in as he approached from the general direction of the central fire. He sipped his tea, making a face as it was way too hot to drink yet, and sat down on the ground in front of the crowded log.
"I think I figured out a way to make small versions of Wymez' doors to ventilate the lodges." Frebec said as Crisavec came over and sat down next to him with a cup of tea of his own.
Frebec patted Crisavec of the thigh as he continued. "Be careful, the tea is hot. I'm going to try making small, square doors about waist high on the back walls that are attached at the top." He paused, thinking for a moment, then went on.
"We can prop them open to let the breeze through, but it should still be an adequate barrier to keep out the rains."
It got quiet as they all considered the idea that Frebec put forth. Wymez was really the only one to grasp the concept quickly, but Rymar and a few others got it well enough to know that this might be a really good idea—if it worked. They had all worked inside the stifling hot lodges during the heat of the day, any relief would be good.
"No problem, I'll bring back all the small canes I find." Branag said after a while, the tool maker in him seeing this new idea slowly form in his mind.
**********
The young okapi never had a chance. The impatience she showed by leaving her mother and the other two females behind and going on ahead to the pond for a morning drink was her undoing. She watched all around her carefully and sniffed the light morning breeze often enough, but as she made her way through the brush toward the northeastern bank of the pond she made a mistake. She saw something out of place behind a berry covered bush, and instead of fleeing immediately, she walked a few steps to her right to get better look at whatever it was. On her third step, a heavy spear hit her full in the upper chest, spinning her young muscular body a bit farther around to her left.
She was correct, something was out of place behind the bush, and it stood up and threw a projectile at her that she was unable to get away from. The second stab of pain hit her in the upper shoulder about the same time as a third took her in the lower belly. Panic set in quickly and she bounded away from the bush and then shifted directions again, away from another odd sight that appeared to her right.
The okapi was hit with a forth and fifth spear in rapid succession as she went down in a frothing splash into the shallows of the pond head first. Two spear shafts protruding out from her left side snapped loudly as she hit the shallow water. All four of her legs still churned, but they slowed as her life's energy was leaving her faster than she could drown in the freshly muddied water.
Brug and Mortan were the first to get to the rapidly expiring okapi, with Troog and Salen hanging back a little to take up guarding positions as Druwez arrived to join the younger hunters at the waters edge. The okapi's back legs still moved in a slow, abbreviated running motion that slowed more and more until the finally stopped all together. Brug and Druwez waded into the shallow, knee deep water on each side of the now still animal.
Mortan reached up over his shoulder to slip the spear back into the scabbard, and caught a strange ripple coming toward the okapi. Strange because most of the ripples ran away from the odd looking animal. The tip of a spike tipped tail barely broke the surface of the water briefly.
"Brug! Druwez, get out!" Mortan screamed.
Salen and Troog spun around and rushed to the pond without thinking as the crocodile lifted his huge head out of the water just in front of the okapi's mostly submerged head. Brug and Druwez splashed up and out of the water, leaping face first up onto dry ground.
The crocodile churned the water as his mouth opened wide then bit down hard on the exposed neck of the okapi. A sickening crunch rang out as bones shattered under the force of the huge lizards jaws.
Troog pulled a good sized axe from his belt and waded into the water as Salen pulled his heaviest throwing spear from the scabbard across his back. He set his feet firmly as Troog made his way around the back of the okapi slowly.
The okapi lurched forward, deeper into the water as the croc pulled against her neck with a mighty swish of his tail. The back of the beast hit Troog's leg and shifted his balance as he raised the axe high. The croc lifted his head, snorting a lung full of air as his wide nostrils broke the surface, and Troog swung the axe.
The water exploded as the axe head bit deep just behind the croc's head, the crocodile's tail went into a flurry of swishing, splashing water all over and making it hard to see anything clearly. Another sound of breaking bones was heard.
Troog yanked the axe free and swung again, his aim was true. The sharp blade hit in nearly the same place, bouncing off the hard, armored flesh and biting even deeper into the first wound. The crocodile went into a slow motion spin, but the strength of his jaws was vastly diminished by Troog's axe. He lost his grip, and spun off the neck of the okapi, and lilted badly when he tried to attack again.
The approach the croc made was slow and ineffective, and Troog shattered the heavy wedge of sharp flint against the top of his head with a powerful blow. The crocodile flinched and tried to continue with a push and huge splash of his tail, but Troog used the remnants of his broken axe to push the beast past the okapi and toward the muddy shore.
Salen was ready, and he stabbed down with his heavy spear at the exposed underside of the crocodile's neck when it floundered as it tried to change direction against the push of the axe. The sharp flint tip bit in deep, sliding through the tough under skin and into the top of the chest. Salen braced himself strongly with his powerful legs as the croc fought back, trying to spin in the shallow water.
**********
Branag and his work crew found the cane patch. It was right where Brug told them it would be, and it had a lot of the thin diameter cane growing all around the edges of the wide patch. Some of the thinner canes were exceptionally tall, their wide leaves flapping and rustling in the soft breeze.
It didn't take long to cut more cane than the four of them could carry, and after a brief rest they loaded up for the walk back.
**********
Troog carried the croc draped over his wide shoulders. It was not nearly as heavy with the huge head cut off, but it was still a very large animal. The front legs dangled at Troog's waist while the tail almost dragged the ground.
Salen and Druwez had the two sets of tied together spears at the rear of the dangling okapi, while Brug and Mortan struggled a bit at the front. They had cut the okapi's head off to save weight, but the thick neck of the beast had so much good meat on it that they had left it in place.
Even though the animal wasn't yet full grown, she was heavy and bulky enough to put a strain on the younger hunters, especially Mortan. Brug was overly stout and heavily muscled for a young man of the Clan, but Mortan was built much thinner, and was no where near as strong as Brug was. Brug shouldered the majority of the weight, but it was a really heavy load for both of them.
The way through the scattered trees was easy enough to navigate, but the ground often had exposed roots from some of the larger trees. These were easy to trip over, and the men moved rather slowly as they wound their way back toward the clearing. It was slow going with the heavy animals.
**********
Branag and Ludeg had cane piled up over both shoulders, they found out quickly that though they could carry a lot more of the thinner poles, they were also heavier. Jozen and Stolie shared large, heavy loads themselves, and all four of them walked considerably slower with the weight they bore.
They moved steadily to the southeast, back toward the camp in a measured pace. Branag wondered how many trips they would be making today, there was a lot of available cane to harvest if it was needed.
His thoughts were interrupted by a series of snarls and yips from just past the trees and low brush out in front them. The two of them stopped to listen, whatever it was, it sounded like a lot of them.
**********
Brug paused when they reached the edge of the clearing, he needed a break, they all did. He signed to Mortan and then back to the men behind him and they dropped the heavy okapi to the ground with a thud. Troog leaned back and let the crocodile drop off his back and shoulders. The heavy tail slapped the ground and Troog hopped forward a step to keep from being hit with the long body.
Mortan pulled his water bag off his belt and took a long pull from it, water streamed down the sides of his face as he drank thirstily. When he finished, he held it out to Brug who did the same. All of them were covered with sweat from the long haul, and Troog knelt down to rub his sore thighs. Salen and Druwez got a drink and lay down in the short grass and closed their eyes for a moment. They were all tired, bone tired.
Soothed by the sounds of songbirds in the trees and brush all around them, the soft rustles in the grass beyond went unnoticed for a while.
When Troog finally noticed the sounds, they were close, very close and getting closer fast. He sat up quickly, noticing that none of them had taken up a guarding position. This was careless, and Troog was startled that this had gone overlooked. He saw movement through the brush, as he stared harder, a chill went through him as he quickly deciphered what it was he was seeing.
"Dholes!" Troog's deep, staccato voice rang out as he lurched to his feet grabbing his favorite throwing spear.
The rest of the hunters hopped up just as the first six dholes burst through the brush from the east, four more followed as these stopped to eye the men and the bloody animals. Three more appeared from a little north, then two more behind them.
The hunters formed up into a loose circle, spears high and ready.
**********
Branag moved ahead slowly again as he tried to see past the short trees. Whatever it was it was making a lot more noise now, and it was obvious that a fight of some kind was going on. Ludeg pulled back against Branag with the twin stacks of poles on their shoulders, Branag stopped.
"We better get out our weapons to check this out." Ludeg's voice was soft, but had a bit of an urgent ring to it.
Branag nodded his head and lifted up against the tied bundle of long poles to set them off his shoulders. Ludeg did the same thing and the first bundle hit the ground a little louder than either of them would have liked.
Jozen and Stolie were both startled to see the men several steps out in front of them slow down and then dropped their loads, and with a quick glance between them dropped their own bundles. Both of them grabbed spears from their scabbards as Branag and Ludeg did in front of them. They approached slowly and cautiously.
Branag and Ludeg both walked slowly around the fat, short tree. What they saw in the grass covered clearing chilled them.
A young waterbuck turned slow circles, head down and butt high. He was surrounded by a dozen and a half snarling dholes, they darted at him from all directions, staying just out of reach. Both the waterbuck's long, ribbed antlers were dripping blood, and three dholes lay around him in the awkward positions that only a quick and violent death would put them in. The left side of the handsome waterbuck was streaked with smears of blood and torn flesh, and he limped heavily as he continued to turn, trying his best to face the nearest threat.
It was a battle he could not possibly win.
**********
Troog saw the way the dholes reacted to what looked to be the lead female, she was a little older than the rest by the looks of her slightly scruffy looking multicolored coat. With a yip, she pulled out away from the trio to the north, and trotted in an unhurried manner toward the four now taking up a strong position to the east. Troog saw how she slipped past this scattered group, and moved on around the exterior line of rapidly closing circle. The other dholes watched her too, making adjustments to their positioning as she circled.
"Brug!" Watch out for that one!' Troog called out and signed before pointing at the female. 'Let's take her out first.'
Brug watched the large female for a moment, and quickly recognized the importance of throwing the impending attack out of kilter. He could see now that she was indeed the leader, and he could also see that they were just about in a perfect attack formation.
With quick hand signs, he instructed the rest of the hunters to pick a dhole. Brug pointed his spear over toward the lead female who moved with a slinking grace that made her almost hard to follow. He pulled back as he focused on her, trying to anticipate her moves.
Troog followed her as well, turning his body slowly to keep her directly in front of him. He pulled the spear back and let it fly with a powerful throw the instant he heard Brug's loud grunt.
The air was suddenly filled with flying spears, and soon after, the shrieks of wounded dholes. The lead female was hit with two heavy spears, Brug's taking her in the side while Troog hit her in the lower neck. She spun from the dual impact, and the sounds she made chilled the living, both hunters and the other dholes. Only Salen missed entirely, though Mortan's spear was a rump shot and not instantly fatal.
The second wave took flight almost instantaneously. The brush all around them was rife with movement as the surviving dholes broke, escaping back out of sight. The wounded animals lay writhing on the ground, the one Mortan hit in the rump dragging himself toward the safety of the brush by his front legs.
Salen held his hand up as Mortan and Druwez started out after the wounded. "Stop, wait until we know if they are coming back."
Both boys stopped in their tracks, spears high and ready. The movement continued all around them, though it was hard to see any more than glimpses of the dholes. The tension hung heavy in the hot air.
**********
"Wow." Ludeg whispered. "That waterbuck is in a bad spot."
Branag nodded his head in agreement as he watched the handsome animal lower his head and spin at the two dholes that kept trying to get at his back legs. Every time the waterbuck moved his head, the surrounding dholes got braver, lunging at his legs and snapping at them. The bucks legs were pock marked with bloody bite marks, and more than a few of the dholes showed bloody patches as well.
"Let's see if we can go around them." Branag whispered, then pointed to his right. "We could follow the brush line back over there, the winds will favor us that way."
Ludeg watched the subtle movements of the tops of the grass, the winds would have to be coming from that direction, he thought. Oh well, the walk back just got a little longer, he thought.
The two men backed up slowly, being as quiet as they could. They stayed low to the ground until they were well out of sight of the deadly dance of predator and prey. Jozen and Stolie waited until they were close before asking the first of what turned out to be several questions.
**********
Troog watched over his shoulder often as the hunters approached the edge of the scattered woods. Though he thought he had heard something behind them a few times, he had seen no further sign of the pack of dholes.
The pace quickened as the sight of the arc of trees ringing the camp became visible. They were all tired, the loads they carried were heavy and cumbersome the trip back was made even more difficult by having to keep a spear at the ready the whole way.
Troog brought up the rear, and his neck was as sore as his shoulders from looking back as much as he had. The crocodile's dead weight seemed to only get heavier and heavier with every step.
When they were in sight of the camp, several men and women rushed out to help them with their burdens. For the hunters, it was none too soon.
**********
The conversation during the evening meal as darkness fell was centered around the growing problem of the unusually large amount of dholes that seemed to live all around the camp. Every single sighting was brought up and discussed, and it quickly became apparent that there were obviously several different groups of these proficient marauders.
As usual, Wymez and the Mog-ur were questioned extensively about the animals. Both men knew some things about the smaller wolf like canines and some of their habits, but neither was nearly as expert as they would have liked to have been. The main gap in their collective knowledge was that neither man knew where or how they made their homes. They both assumed that the dholes lived in dens like wolves did, but had no direct knowledge to back up the assumption.
The ever continuing questioning was exhaustive to say the least.
**********
"...well, something has to be done." Tulie was saying. "There is no way to keep guards posted during the day with all the work going on."
"None of the work details can spare any people, there is just too much to do." Matera added. "I'm worried about all the stone gatherers now, how could we possibly guard them unless they all walked together from the stone pit?"
"We have seen more than a few signs of dholes everywhere we have gone to gather greens and roots." Brecie piped in. "Especially around the creek and the pond."
"I wonder how long it will be before they come right on into the camp?" Fralie asked, speaking aloud what many in the camp was wondering silently. "What about the children? What if they attacked us here---at night?"
A mild uproar ensued, a long one that took a while to slow. The women of the camp seemed to dominate the conversation for a while, the questions just raised were at the front of all their minds because of the children.
When the burst of loud voices finally wore down, Wymez spoke out with his powerful, low pitched voice cutting through the din.
"Though mostly nocturnal, we have seen that these animals are more than willing to come out in the early mornings and late afternoons." The camp grew silent, hanging on his every word. Wymez took a deep breath, then went on.
"This means that we could possibly set a trap for them during the daylight if we are clever about it."
An odd, eerie silence fell over the camp, the popping and crackling of the main fire sounding louder and more distinct than ever before. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees above. At the far end of the arc of trees on the southwestern edge of the camp, a screech owl cried out in the darkness. The soft, ominous cackling of hyenas blew in from the flats below on the light breeze, far away in the distance. A songbird sang sweetly from the grass beyond the trees, another answered him from a little further out.
"So how do we set a trap for dholes?" Talut's big voice broke the awkward quiet, he grinned broadly as he looked out over the mass of humanity.
Mog-ur studied the gather, watching and listening intently. A problem has been identified, he thought to himself, and now it is open for discussion as to the best way to move forward to solve it. He couldn't help but to compare again these radical differences to the traditional Clan ways. A Clan would discuss this only amongst the men in private, the women would be left out of the conversation all together. Their ways are so different, he considered, but is it not better for all to know of this imminent danger?
The questions came at him faster in his mind than he could sort out and decipher. He paused to listen as Tulie tossed out an idea. Trull-ee is a woman, he thought with a little exasperation, but she is also a respected leader. Mog-ur closed his eyes and breathed deeply to gather his thoughts. He opened them again, watching as Tornec translated. Free-bac sounded off, taking Trull-ee's idea and added a significant twist to it. Dann-uh chimed in right after Free-bac, adding another idea to the possible plan.
Mog-ur watched Torn-ac as he translated the spoken words into Clan signs, growing more intrigued and a little more confused as the conversation continued. Rug and Brug were the next to add to the plan, and their ideas flowed into the conversation easily with Torn-ac's running translations.
At some point, the Mog-ur realized that the efficiency of these combined peoples had to be better than either group could be on their own. He fingered the carved ivory plaque he wore across his chest without thinking about it. It was a gift from these Others, given to him just before the Clan left out on their journey. One side was carved with a stunning likeness of the great cave bear, the other with a wooly mammoth. Beneath the plaque, the dark colored tattoo of the symbol of the Land of the Sun covered the center of his chest. Mog-ur closed his eyes again and was suddenly aware of these deep symbolic caricatures, and how they seemed to co-exist in a harmony he would have never thought possible.
Ursus is pleased, Mog-ur suddenly realized without any hint of doubt, he has to be for this complicated blend of Clan and Others to be this successful. A wave of relief washed over him, catching the old holy man completely by surprise. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the camp of mixed people in a new light. For the first time since he had begun to wonder if Ursus was angry or pleased, Mog-ur felt content. He turned his attention back to the planning of the trapping of the dholes with a new outlook, a confidently serene outlook.