The Cusp, Part II

He arrived at the camp two days later at sunrise. He had left his family’s camp in the night to arrive on time. He carried his bow, arrows, tools, a pack frame holding his bedding and a piece of leather that would serve as a shelter. He also carried his heavy thrusting spear and a pouch of food. The food was a paste of dried meat pounded to a powder mixed with dried dates and melted fat. It was calorie dense and could be eaten cold or mixed with hot water to make a soup. He could gather other food along the way if he needed to.

The woman’s family was awake and had built up their fire. There was a pot of something that smelled good boiling on it. The elder brother beckoned him forward. He grasped forearms with the men of the camp.

“We will be leaving soon, but there is time for a bowl of porridge.”

He nodded his agreement and stretched his hands to the fire. It was becoming late in the fall. Although harsh winters were rare, the nights could be cold. He thought back to the time he had hunted with this father and uncles and how it always seemed to be coldest just before sunrise. The elder brother extended a bowl of porridge. The heat of the bowl felt good in his hands. The porridge was made with grains, fruit, and bits of dried meat. The grain had been gathered earlier in the season and spread on straw mats to dry in the sun before being winnowed and stored in leather pouches and larger clay pots. Grain was an important part of the tribes diet. It grew wild in open spaces spanning acres. Even the youngest children and the elders could help in the gathering. The act of gathering dislodged enough grain to reseed the fields. Grain was one of earth mothers’ many gifts. Many times, a hunter had returned empty handed and been glad for a bowl of porridge or piece of flatbread.

They talked in low voices so as not to wake the children of the camp. After eating and drinking spring water from a leather bag, the brothers shouldered their packs, a bit different from his but serving the same purpose and prepared to leave. He heard a noise from inside the family shelter and the woman who would be his wife emerged with a throwing spear and a pack. He greeted her in a soft voice. “I will hunt with you.” It was acceptable for her to come on the hunt since there would be male family members in the party. Their first meeting had been on the edge of custom. An unattached woman normally had family with her. Since their meeting had been by chance and he had treated her as a fellow hunter, no rules were broken. He asked to examine her spear. She extended it. He hefted the spear and felt its balance point. The balance was slightly off for him but well suited to her frame, it was more of a javelin. The spear had a serviceable tip of sharpened bone. Bone served better for a throwing spear; it was less prone to breaking that stone if the hunter missed.

They set off as the false dawn gave way to sunrise. The brothers set the pace at a dog trot. He was able to match the pace. His gift was for endurance, but he was a poor sprinter. After a few hours they stopped at a stream to rest and drink. The day had warmed and there was a slight breeze. The brothers were more familiar with the territory that he was, so he deferred to their suggestions. It was decided that the younger brother, who was a good runner, would go ahead and scout. They divided the contents of his pack among themselves so he could move unimpeded. They set off in the general direction of where the herd of aurochs had last been seen. As they walked the older brother, representing the woman’s family, asked about his tribe and band. He knew that he was being interviewed and answered honestly. His parents came from respected clans and their tribe was well regarded. He shared the hunter food from his pouch with the woman and her brother. Just a few mouthfuls was filling.

“Did your mother make this?” asked the woman.

“Yes. She makes it whenever me or my father are going on a long hunt.”

“It is very good.”

“My mother is a good cook.”

“Do your parents get along well?”

“They have been together for twenty summers. They fit well together and my father often seeks my mother’s counsel on family decisions. She has a calmness about her that he values.”

“Your father seeks a woman’s counsel?”

“He says he will not ignore good advice just because it comes from a woman. Their gifts complement each other.”

They walked onward as the country began to change. The open plains became rolling hills with timber in the draws. They came to a place where a small river ran through a valley. The river had eaten through soil and rock. Where the river made a bend there was a ledge of exposed rock. Part of the rock had worn away and collapsed into the river leaving an overhang. They went into the overhang and saw that the roof was blackened from smoke. There were the remains of fires and the floor showed the tracks of animals and humans. Her brother spoke.

“This place is well known among our tribe. Lots of people use it when they are hunting this area.”

“It’s a good place for a camp.”

“We will camp here and then we can scout the area tomorrow.”

“Have you seen aurochs in the area?”

“They pass through about this time of year. We will need to keep an eye out, lions and wolves follow the herds.”

There was a large clay pot cached behind some rocks at the back of the overhang. It was heavy but fragile. The tribes often left heavy things at places they regularly camped at. A cooking pot or a mortar and pestle would add weight to the packs the people carried as they moved between campsites following the seasons and the herds. The woman carried the pot down to the river for water. He dropped his pack and left with his bow and quiver. He began to move slowly along the river eyes on the ground and watching the underbrush ahead. He did all the things that he had been taught and had learned. Noting the wind, keeping to the shadows, listening, smelling, placing his feet in a way that made little noise, what his people called “the fox walk.”

He kept the wind in his face and smelled the musky smell of goats. He would not bother with an old billy; their meat was often stringy and had a strong taste. He was hoping there were more goats in the herd. He moved uphill to gain a better view of the river bottom and surrounding hills. Peeking over a rise he saw a group of goats that included some young that had been born in the spring. There was a gully that would let him get closer. He had long ago learned that a good hunter had patience that transcended time. When he was focused on an animal time slowed. He was totally present as he placed each foot moving closer to the feeding herd. He saw a bush at the rim of the gulley and peeked through it. There was a young goat withing bow range but obscured by brush. He settled into wait with an arrow knocked. As the light was fading the young goat walked into a clear spot. He smiled thinking how, when he was younger, he would have tried a shot without waiting for the goat’s head to go down before starting his draw. The goat resumed feeding and he slowly came to full draw and loosed the arrow in one motion. The shot was good and the goat fell within sight.

He looked carefully and found his arrow. The point would need resharpening, but the fletching and knock were intact. He gave the goat a last bite, thanked the mother and his ancestors, and dressed it. He kept the heart and liver, placing them in the body cavity and began to walk back to the overhang. As he rounded a bend, he saw that a fire had been built among the rocks. When he was closer, he announced himself and walked up the trail. The youngest brother had rejoined them and reported that there were aurochs a few ridges over. The siblings had been busy in his absence. Water skins had been filled, firewood gathered, sleeping robes spread, grain added to the cooking pot to serve as porridge or a base for soup. They would be able to stay as long as they needed.

“You had luck” said the woman he was to marry.

“The mother was generous.”

“Let me skin and cut up the goat.”

“I can manage.”

“Let her do it. You carried it here,” said the eldest brother.

He handed over the goat. He watched as the woman skinned the animal peeling the hide off like a glove so that it could be used later. She worked quickly and there were no nicks in the hide. She was very skilled. He noticed that she used one of the obsidian knives he had given her father. She prepared the goat for eating. Some meat along with the heart and liver was cut into pieces and added to the pot, some was set aside for roasting, the ribs were placed over coals to cook slowly, and the head was saved to be buried in the coals under the fire. They began to roast pieces of meat on sticks over the fire. They were young and had traveled far so there was not much conversation at first.

As the sun sat and darkness closed in around the fire, they began to talk, sharing stories about their people and their youth. He told a few stories of humorous things that had happened when he was younger. The time he placed his sleeping robes near an ant hill and was awakened by dozens of bites, the time he had left in such a hurry to go on a hunt with his father and uncles that he had forgotten his arrows. “They called me “invisible arrows” for months after that,” he said. The siblings noted that he had a self-effacing sense of humor. The brothers told a few embarrassing stories about the woman as a little girl. She glared at them but her gray eyes sparkled with mirth. She then teased them about the girls in the band that they were sweet on. The elder brother looked stern and the younger brother blushed as they all laughed.

As the fire burned down and bellies were filled the mood became more relaxed. They had traveled far and eaten well. They looked into the fire and began to talk about serious things as they looked at the sky. The tribes believed that the spirits of the dead walked the sky trail, that would be later called the milky way, to the spirit world. The spirit world was much like this one except there was no sickness or pain and everyone was young and healthy and the hunting and gathering were good. The ancestors could see the activities of the people from the spirit world and could do things to help those who revered them. They asked him if he believed.

“I don’t know if I fully believe or not. It is hard for me to believe in what I cannot see. I respect the ancestors, earth mother, and the animals. I will live to be a help to the people. Doing my share to see that everyone has meat, treat others fairly, and be a good husband to my wife and father to my children. If there is a spirit world, I will be happy there. If not, I will die happy if I have done my best for the people and those close to me.” He looked at the woman. Her eyes held his for a long time.

They settled into their sleeping robes. The men stripped to breech clouts, and the woman removed her clothing down to a breech clout and a leather band she wore around her breasts. Some version of the band was worn by the women of the tribes when they were traveling when jogging or running might be involved.

He slept soundly. He had left his people’s camp early to arrive at the woman’s camp at daylight. With the first light of dawn the elder brother was up and getting the fire going. He had slept very hard and was embarrassed that he had not been the first up. He was surprisingly warm. He rolled over to see that the woman had moved her bedding beside his in the night and was under the robe with him. He started awake. The woman sat up and said,

” Don’t be too proud of yourself. I was cold and we left the dogs at camp.”

He nodded toward the brothers and said, “They could have warmed you.”

“The big one farts and the little one snores. You were the best choice.”

“So, I am a substitute for a dog?”

“Well, you smell better and don’t get fleas.” She gave him the grin that would always make him smile.

He got up and dressed, keeping his back to her to hide the reaction her presence had caused. He left the shelter to relieve himself and drink from the river. When he returned the goat head had been pulled from the coals. It was well cooked and they ate it and the ribs. They did not want a heavy meal. It promised to be a long day.

They set out for the valley where the aurochs had been the day before. They found the giant cattle just starting to feed among a stand of trees in the river bottom. They were very careful of the wind and moved slowly. The brothers were used to hunting together and worked well as a team. He and the woman communicated with hand signals. They hoped to take two animals. There would be a month or more of meat for the tribe and the heavy hides would be enough to repair the shelter. He had chosen a heavy arrow with one of his best obsidian tips. He would sacrifice range for penetration. The woman’s throwing spear would penetrate well. They slowly closed the distance to a young cow, moving only when the herd fed. There were many eyes to avoid and a change in wind direction would cause the animals to scatter.

He entered the state that was the mark of a hunter, time slowed and the world compressed to just him and the animal. He was aware of the woman as well, but the focus was on the cow. At last, after hours of movement, the cow’s head was down. He knocked an arrow and drew fully, focused on the spot just behind the cow’s front leg, and released. The arrow penetrated to the fletching. The point was so sharp that the cow flinched and wandered off before slowly sinking to the ground. They heard a noise and saw a young bull trot past with two arrows in its side. The brothers had made good shots. They kept still so that the animals would not panic. An animal with a fatal hit could run a long way on adrenalin if frightened. They watched as the young bull stopped and slowly tipped over.

As they watched, the youngest brother came by at a trot. He was only 13 summers old and very eager. He ran without seeing the lion crouched in the grass where the bull had passed. The lion was old and had been pushed out of the pride by a younger male. He was hungry without the lionesses to help with the hunting. He saw an easy meal in the boy trotting through the grass. The woman shouted a warning and the younger brother looked up as the lion’s crouch became a run.

He had knocked another arrow out of reflex. He drew and shot more quickly than he would have. The arrow struck the lion far back in the flank enraging him. The lion turned toward him and the woman. He dropped his bow and unslung the heavy thrusting spear. He shouted to the woman to run and then focused on the lion. Time moved very slowly. He watched the lion turn and see them. The woman launched her throwing spear taking the lion at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The lion roared and leaped. He held the heavy spear and ducked under the lion thrusting deep into its chest, the point severing the spine. The lion twisted and he leapt aside. The lion gave a final roar and was still.

His focus came back and he saw the woman standing beside him with the obsidian knife in her hand, her eyes wide, nostrils flared, her mouth a line of determination. She was wild and beautiful. They were both shaking from the adrenaline and the knowledge that they were alive. They embraced and she kissed him passionately. Then stepped back.

“You didn’t run,” he said.

“I go where I want.”

“Your spear gave me time to get ready.”

“You make good tools; your people need you.”

“And that’s the only reason?”

“It will be cold again tonight. I want to sleep warm.”

Then she embraced him again and cried.

The work began.