Friday, February 2, 2018

Follow the Herd

Prompt: The Bridge | Word Count: 1200 words | Genre: Historical Fiction


Through icy crystals caked upon the lashes of Po’s eyes, snow stretched as far as the horizon. Obsidian and granite hillocks dotted the frozen prairie this side of the Speartooth mountains. In the distance, a cloud of frozen dust arose in the wake of the herds traveling east. He raised a hand to his brow to shade against snow blindness.

“Where is this bridge of yours?” Tuk always spoke against Po’s dream to follow the herds across the great water. He had all the courage of the ancestor warriors and all the arrogance that comes with it. With an obvious eye on leadership in the counsel, having to follow Po’s lead made him more belligerent than usual.

“You’re looking at it. You can see the line of the northern sea on the horizon.” He pointed Tuk’s gaze to the north. “The great ocean lies to the south.”

Tuk turned his gaze southward to scan the horizon. His derisive snort gave Po his opinion. Tuk considered him a rival and seized any opportunity to bring him down in the eyes of the elders. Ever since Po had won the hand of Song, the chieftain’s daughter, by slaying a lone wolf that had killed some of the village goats.

Tuk, and the hunters, had been scouting for meat while Po, who had taken ill from a fall in the river, had been left behind. It was Song who had nursed him back to health. When the hungry wolf, again came into the village, Po took up the spear against it. Tuk was outraged to learn of the betrothal. He’d always had an eye for Song, speaking of her as a token to be won while Po, having taken the time to get to know her, had truly won her heart. Tuk had warned Po, he would not forgive him for stealing his prize or his chance for glory.

This day, however, Po had more important matters on his mind. That wolf was not the only starving creature on the steppes. Each season, fewer caribou were being found. Hunters were forced to range farther to find the thinning herds and bring back meat for the tribe. Something had to be done or the village would soon face the same fate as the wolf. While hunting, Po had come across the tracks of the giant tusk-beasts moving east toward the great water over the bridge of ice. In their wake, the caribou had followed.

 The counsel had agreed to send him and Tuk and several other hunters to scout ahead and track the herds while the rest of the village packed to follow. It would be a monumental risk, but one worth attempting for the good of the tribe. Po turned back the way they had come. A trail of people were snaking through the pass and onto the great ice bridge. “We must hurry. The villagers will need meat to complete the journey.”

“There are a few caribou stragglers not far ahead.” Tuk took off down the hill, spear in hand, leaving the others to follow.

. . .

The hunters arranged themselves around a rise overlooking a small herd of caribou. Each hunter selected the beast nearest his position. At a signal from Tuk, they arose and threw their spears. In moments, several of the beasts lay dead on the ground. They wasted no time but went straight to the work of skinning the beasts and quartering up the meat. Stretching out the hides to be used for storage, they began packing up the meat to bury and mark for the villagers following behind.

As Po worked, the taint of rotted death wafted in on the breeze, overriding the iron tang of the caribou blood. He looked up to find the others had also caught the scent. We are being tracked! He grabbed up his spear and turned to meet the, as yet, unseen threat. If the wolves mean to have our meat, they’ll have to fight for it!

A feline scream cut through the moan of the twilight wind. Chills ran down Po’s spine as the call was answered by another on their right. Two beasts! He found himself thinking back to the elders’ stories of encounters with the great cats. None of those had stories ended well.

Tuk whistled and waved for them to gather into two groups, three hunters to each cat. The heavy footfalls of the creature, barely visible in the deepening darkness and the onset of fresh snowfall drew Po’s attention. The blood of the fresh kills still rode the wind which he realized was what had likely drawn the beasts. Snow and ice drove into them as the wind rose to a fury.

As the storm gathered, he could just make out Tuk’s crew standing on the base of their spears, pointed in the direction of the first cat. As he watched, a dark flurry flew at them, landing on the spears. They’ve killed one! Po had never known anyone to have survived a speartooth attack, much less killing one. He turned to his group to do the same but was too late.

The cat materialized, a gray ghost, to sink its spear-length teeth into the body of the nearest hunter. The man screamed and died as the beast shook its quarry limp. The other hunter ran in the direction of Tuk’s group leaving Po alone to face the cat. He charged the monster, thrusting his spear into its side. The beast dropped the dead hunter and whipped it’s body around to face this new threat. Po, still holding his spear was thrown sideways, landing against a rock. Several ribs broke as he struck the ground. Song! His only thought, for his love.

The speartooth turned toward the injured Po, opening its massive jaws to finish off its prey. A shadow, in the driving sleet resolved into the form of Tuk, spear in hand as he leapt from the hillside to stab at the heart of the cat. Screaming it’s last, the speartooth whipped around and crushed Tuk against the rocks. Po drug himself over to his fallen comrade.

“Take care of Song,” Tuk coughed out bitter blood. “and our people.”

Po clasped the hand of the man, his rival, who had saved his life. “I promise.” Then he closed Tuk’s eyes.

. . .

The villagers arrived several days later to find the hunters camped next to a carefully arranged pile of rocks flanked by two great speartooth heads. They listened in wonder as Po related the story of the only hunter known to kill a speartooth cat. And Tuk had killed two of the beasts.

When they arrived on the far east side of the great ice bridge, they crossed over and down into the eastern plains covered in verdant grasses and trees. As far as the eye could see, tusk beasts, caribou, ptarmigan and hares and all sorts of wildlife roamed the hills and valleys of this new land. There were berries and herbs, fishes and fowl of all varieties. Po put his arms around Song and sighed in relief. Their baby would be born in this new and beautiful land. Tuk’s land.


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