it is far too thin!"
Sim had answered by talking about a new weapon for Old Hunter, one that did not require Dedu's strength. He then picked up an oval piece of flint a little longer and wider than his outstretched hand, and about twice its thickness. With a few careful taps from a hammer stone, he had flaked the two ends into ragged but sharp cutting edges. This large piece of flint was set into the notch in the shaft and tied in place with many wrappings of wet rawhide cord, so that the flint was held firmly. Since the rawhide shrank when it dried, the flint head and the wooden shaft would be as if they were one. He now had a lightweight flint club that could be used by almost anyone, unlike the heavy awkward tree branches they had been using. Despite its light weight, it was a far more effective hunting weapon. Sim had passed the axe to Dedu. He remembered swinging it and examining the attachment of flint to wood. He had called Ab over. Both were very impressed.
This special club had been given to him, and Sim had made one for Ab and a lighter one for Old Hunter. In so many ways both Sim and Eevo had shown just how capable they were at hunting.
Shim thought about the wolves. She remembered a large grey head was resting on her lap and being stroked. She had begun to talk to the wolf.
"You are a wonderful friend," she murmured, "and you should have a name. I will call you Neeth. That means 'a wonderful friend' in my clan's language. I will call your sister Grosh, which means 'watchful'. "
The wolf lay completely relaxed, almost asleep. Its soft breathing in turn lulled her so that she too fell asleep. She remembered waking when Dedu made some noise on coming out of the cave. He found her with her head lying on the wolf's flank and her right arm flung over its body. The wolf's head, with one eye open watching him, was resting on her lap. Laughing, she had told Dedu and then the others that she had given each wolf a name. They all liked her choices. From that time on, the wolves were spoken to and called by name. Before long, they recognized and responded to their names.
Everything they could have done had been done. It should be an easy trip to the Wetlands Clan. Once the final farewells were said, they had left. The morning had dawned, a bright day, one with a crisp feel to the air and with leaves falling from the trees and littering the ground every time there was a gust of cold wind. They started toward the hills where Eevo and Sim had seen the fire that night they had planned to look for them, their parents. Five moons had passed and now they and their children were separated again. Eevo and Sim were on their own in a sandstorm. Their survival depended on their own ability, and on luck. She and Dedu could do no more than keep themselves alive and hope.
Sim became aware that Dedu was no longer holding on to the spear shaft when he turned suddenly as Grosh changed direction. The spear shaft moved freely. There was no resistance to its swing. He managed to stop both Grosh and Neeth. "They're not behind us!" he shouted into Eevo's ear. He turned and tried to look through the fog of sand particles. It was useless. Eevo tried too, with similar results.
"Do you know when we lost them?" she shouted in return.
"No," he answered. "We'll have to turn back."
"No," Eevo shouted. "No! We don't know where back is. And we can't stay here. Let's follow the wolves and try to find some shelter. When the storm stops, we'll search."
Reluctantly they continued.
Three The Rescue
Unknown to the travellers, there were others who had been caught by the storm. A group of Wetlands hunters were out after the geese which came to the marshes every year. Once the weather in the lands where they spent the warm seasons became cold, these large birds headed south. The older geese were hard to catch, but this year's hatchlings could be snared fairly easily. Their flesh was more tender than that of the older birds. And so it was that the geese and hunters had this yearly meeting. Both came in response to the hunt for food — the geese for the grasses and seeds, the hunters for the geese, and everything else they could collect.
The hunters were accompanied by their mates, as there were many fruits and vegetables and seeds of grasses to gather as food for the coming cold time. The land about the streams and ponds that ran into the Wetlands river had much plant life with fruit now ripe. Once both the men and women came, they, of course, brought their children.
This year, the weather was not pleasant. It was cold and the wind blew steadily. It carried sand that stung when it hit faces, but it also brought in large flocks of storm-buffeted geese. Confused and not as wary as usual, the birds could easily be brought down the long sticks the hunters used. So despite the worsening weather, the hunt went on. In all the excitement, no one watched the sky.
The sandstorm hit suddenly. Visibility fell to zero. They were in a dense fog, not of water droplets but of stinging, blinding sand. Because the weather had been so foul, the children had been kept in a cave the hunters used when they stayed overnight. Even though the roar of the wind frightened them, and the younger ones were crying, none went outside. But as the storm continued, hunger added to their misery. The crying became louder. It was then that one little girl, decided to go and find her mother. No longer a toddler but a four-year-old, she considered herself quite capable. Out of the cave she went. Even though she knew where she wanted to go, the wind tossed her about. But there was no turning back. Reluctantly now, the little girl stumbled on for a very long time. Although she did not know it, she was in the low hills on the sunset side of the great mountain.
But it was becoming darker as the invisible sun dropped below the horizon. This was the time the predatory animals started their hunt, but she had no knowledge of this danger. Hungry and very sleepy, she took shelter behind a large pile of rock and curled up, trying to keep warm. Suddenly, a movement not far away caught her attention. Something was there! Slowly it moved towards her. She was terrified! Where was her mother? Eyes glinted in the moonlight, which now and again broke through the haze of the storm. They moved closer. Bravely, she felt the ground around her. All that could be found was a fist-sized stone. Should she throw it? She knew she could not throw that far. Paralyzed by fear, the little girl could not move.
The lynx, always on the watch for its usual diet of hare and small rodents, had never hunted game as big as this. The size made him pause, but not for long. Its stalking continued. This was a young animal. So intent on watching what it now considered its prey, it failed to check its surroundings. Another pair of eyes were watching. Originally, these eyes had been focused on the child, while the brain that controlled them was pondering its next move. The arrival of the lynx had changed all that. With the lynx now the important target, there was no hesitation in what the next move was to be.
Just as the lynx was about to pounce on the little girl, something large hit it. Massive teeth clamped on its neck. It had only time to hiss before being picked up and shaken. With its neck broken and its spinal cord severed, it knew no more. Its attacker dropped the now-limp body, looked at the little girl, and sat down.
The child was too afraid to move or make any sound. Her knees trembled uncontrollably, but the large animal did not do anything but sit and look at her. She sat and looked back. Then the animal lifted its head and howled. The little girl's terror increased. But what could she do? In a few moments, there was an answering howl. The watching animal replied, then lay down, crossed its front legs and continued to look at her.
She was beginning to ache from keeping herself rigid. She just had to move. As she changed position, the animal's head came up and then down again. Feeling a little bolder, the girl wiggled to make herself more comfortable. Again nothing happened. She could not move further away
