wounded man on the ground.
Hard Tongue shrugged. “We chased a wildebeest and stirred a one-horn with her calf. She chased us.”
Now
they had caught his curiosity. “And Fire Gut was caught?”
“He took the horn because he was shitting behind a bush. He was running and shitting at the same time. Even the one horn laughed!”
The Mk*tk roared with mirth. Even Fire Gut tried to laugh with them. Then blood gushed from between his lips, ending his ghastly spate of mirth.
“I am sorry,” Fire Gut said. “It hurts.”
“Soon,” Flat-Nose said.
Hard Tongue ignored his cousin’s agony. To acknowledge it would shame Fire Gut, encourage him to beg for mercy, which would deny him entrance to the next world. “How went the hunt?”
His brother Rain Hand shrugged. “Our spears are strong but cannot kill what does not live.”
Flat-Nose shifted his balance. He felt something hard beneath his bare heel and ground down until it cracked. “I know where better hunting can be found.”
“North?” Hard Tongue asked.
“Yes. North. We need but take the land.”
Flat-Nose hunkered down, staring off to the north. “Hate their smell,” he growled, “their weakness. So many of them. But they are weak. We will break them.”
“We had many wounded,” Hard Tongue said. “Many killed. Must be careful.”
Flat-Nose’s arm blurred, knocking the other man to the ground, then stood over him with his short stabbing spear. “Careful?” he roared, spittle flying from his thick, scarred lips. “Are we women, to be
careful?
No! We are men! And God Blood gave men courage! Gave men spears and claws. We will feed our god until His belly bursts.”
At night, when Flat-Nose lay his head down, God Blood sent him visions of his children and grandchildren hunting in the northlands, eating their fill, slaughtering their enemies, plundering the women on the bloody ground.
He shook the pleasant images from his mind. “It is time.”
Fire Gut spit blood and raised his chin. “I am ready.”
Flat-Nose gazed toward Great Sky. The gigantic god mountain was invisible beyond the horizon, but sometimes, on some days, it seemed to waver mistily in the heat, floating above the horizon. “Tell God Blood to make us strong. Soon, we give him new land.” Starting with the boma the Ibandi monkeys called Rock.
Flat-Nose plunged his spear into Fire Gut’s wound.
Fire Gut bit through his thick lower lip, struggling not to cry out. If Fire Gut’s screams were silent, God Blood might answer his prayers. Despite his wish to die with courage, at last both flesh and spirit failed. Fire Gut shrieked, his body curling back away from the shaft.
Flat-Nose wrenched the spear back and forth. As the light in Fire Gut’s eyes disappeared, Flat-Nose leaned over and whispered to him. “Your children will sing your death song. God Blood will savor your flesh.”
Then he wrenched the spear free.
Chapter Eight
Through a forest of dung-colored anthills, one slow, heavy step at a time, Leopard Eye and Leopard Paw dragged Stillshadow’s sled toward the horizon. They each had one leather strap hitched over their right shoulders. They relied upon elephant breathing’s slow, powerful strokes to postpone fatigue.
“Huh! huh! huh!”
they grunted, one exhalation timed to each drive of their right legs.
Stillshadow felt every season she had walked, which she now reckoned as six tens of winters. Perhaps more. Her memory was not what it once was, even if her old heart still felt strong.
It brought her pleasure to watch her boys pulling the sled. It was a shame that neither of them had been chosen for hunt chiefs, but that had been Cloud Stalker’s decision, and she had often wondered at it. Now she wondered if some part of her lover had known what would happen on Great Sky, known that Father Mountain would slaughter his sons in such a fashion. Could he possibly have denied Paw and Eye entrance into the brotherhood to spare their lives?
Thank Great Mother
Hard Tongue shrugged. “We chased a wildebeest and stirred a one-horn with her calf. She chased us.”
Now
they had caught his curiosity. “And Fire Gut was caught?”
“He took the horn because he was shitting behind a bush. He was running and shitting at the same time. Even the one horn laughed!”
The Mk*tk roared with mirth. Even Fire Gut tried to laugh with them. Then blood gushed from between his lips, ending his ghastly spate of mirth.
“I am sorry,” Fire Gut said. “It hurts.”
“Soon,” Flat-Nose said.
Hard Tongue ignored his cousin’s agony. To acknowledge it would shame Fire Gut, encourage him to beg for mercy, which would deny him entrance to the next world. “How went the hunt?”
His brother Rain Hand shrugged. “Our spears are strong but cannot kill what does not live.”
Flat-Nose shifted his balance. He felt something hard beneath his bare heel and ground down until it cracked. “I know where better hunting can be found.”
“North?” Hard Tongue asked.
“Yes. North. We need but take the land.”
Flat-Nose hunkered down, staring off to the north. “Hate their smell,” he growled, “their weakness. So many of them. But they are weak. We will break them.”
“We had many wounded,” Hard Tongue said. “Many killed. Must be careful.”
Flat-Nose’s arm blurred, knocking the other man to the ground, then stood over him with his short stabbing spear. “Careful?” he roared, spittle flying from his thick, scarred lips. “Are we women, to be
careful?
No! We are men! And God Blood gave men courage! Gave men spears and claws. We will feed our god until His belly bursts.”
At night, when Flat-Nose lay his head down, God Blood sent him visions of his children and grandchildren hunting in the northlands, eating their fill, slaughtering their enemies, plundering the women on the bloody ground.
He shook the pleasant images from his mind. “It is time.”
Fire Gut spit blood and raised his chin. “I am ready.”
Flat-Nose gazed toward Great Sky. The gigantic god mountain was invisible beyond the horizon, but sometimes, on some days, it seemed to waver mistily in the heat, floating above the horizon. “Tell God Blood to make us strong. Soon, we give him new land.” Starting with the boma the Ibandi monkeys called Rock.
Flat-Nose plunged his spear into Fire Gut’s wound.
Fire Gut bit through his thick lower lip, struggling not to cry out. If Fire Gut’s screams were silent, God Blood might answer his prayers. Despite his wish to die with courage, at last both flesh and spirit failed. Fire Gut shrieked, his body curling back away from the shaft.
Flat-Nose wrenched the spear back and forth. As the light in Fire Gut’s eyes disappeared, Flat-Nose leaned over and whispered to him. “Your children will sing your death song. God Blood will savor your flesh.”
Then he wrenched the spear free.
Chapter Eight
Through a forest of dung-colored anthills, one slow, heavy step at a time, Leopard Eye and Leopard Paw dragged Stillshadow’s sled toward the horizon. They each had one leather strap hitched over their right shoulders. They relied upon elephant breathing’s slow, powerful strokes to postpone fatigue.
“Huh! huh! huh!”
they grunted, one exhalation timed to each drive of their right legs.
Stillshadow felt every season she had walked, which she now reckoned as six tens of winters. Perhaps more. Her memory was not what it once was, even if her old heart still felt strong.
It brought her pleasure to watch her boys pulling the sled. It was a shame that neither of them had been chosen for hunt chiefs, but that had been Cloud Stalker’s decision, and she had often wondered at it. Now she wondered if some part of her lover had known what would happen on Great Sky, known that Father Mountain would slaughter his sons in such a fashion. Could he possibly have denied Paw and Eye entrance into the brotherhood to spare their lives?
Thank Great Mother
Similar Books
