with even more dismay, that any such claim, contradicted by both Gontra and Pont, would make him a laughingstock.
Getting no response to her query, Donte said, “Rest a moment Pell, I’ll get you some tea.” She scurried off toward the cookfire.
Before they ate dinner they sat through one of Pont’s interminable ceremonies, this one to “Thank the Spirit Boar for restoring Gontra’s finger.” Gontra even did the drumming, holding his new “knobby stick” in his poulticed hand. Pont danced about chanting monotonously while Lessa chanted a tune that wove through his monotone. The two together did sound haunting. Pell sat against the back wall of the cave covertly sipping the tea Donte had brought him and wondering whether the healer had ever actually made anyone better. Or did he just take the credit when they did get well? Pell realized with a start that Pont certainly spread the blame when people got worse under his ministrations. Someone else had always “angered the Spirits” when the healer failed to make one of his patients better.
After they ate Roley announced that they would have another big hunt in the morning. While the hunters were out, the women were to pack for the move to the summer hunting area. If the hunt was successful they should have enough meat to tide them through the move and so they would begin their transit the day after the hunt.
Pell had great difficulty sleeping that night. He lay awake thinking of how he should have made Gontra and Exen march past the cave with him to the upper stream before reducing the finger. He should have insisted on better payment than that old knife. He should have insisted on accompanying them back to the cave after he put Gontra’s finger back in place. He should have said something when he got back to the cave and found the celebration in progress—though he knew no one would believe him. But maybe Gontra would have admitted it. He should have… He should have…
The next morning Pell woke thinking of the brush tunnel. He had been going to go sit by it today. The more he thought about it, the more sure he felt that some passing animal would get stuck in there long enough for him to put a spear into it! He would have to go by himself so that he could claim to have killed it in a real hunt. He snorted—the way people had been turning against him, going hunting by himself wasn’t going to be a problem.
Roley was already organizing the big hunt though. As per Roley’s usual, this involved a lot of bellowing at other hunters, shouting at the women and children, stamping of his feet and cuffing the slow moving. When he got into this kind of mood it created a lot of anxiety among the other Aldans. Pell resigned himself to trying to visit the brush tunnel later in the day, if the big hunt was successful before it got too late . Roley soon had all the hunters out on the trail down toward the great river, most of them gnawing on a remnant of yesterday’s kill.
It was overcast but not particularly cold. Pell’s stomach was not growling as he had had a few remnants of last night’s feast before setting out. He had even gotten over some of his dismay at Gontra’s betrayal and was looking forward to an opportunity to prove himself in the day’s hunt. But, then Denit turned to Exen and said, “Don’t you think that Pell should have stayed back with the rest of the women to pack?”
Pell’s stomach lurched.
Exen looked over at Pell out of the corner of his eye and quickly glanced away. To Denit he said “Yeah, you should let your dad know that we’ve accidentally brought one of the girls with us on the hunt.”
Denit laughed. Then he shouted ahead, “Roley, one of the girls has come along on the hunt. Do you want to send her back?”
Roley turned in anger, scanning up and down the line. “Where is she?” he demanded.
Denit laughed and pointed at Pell, “Can’t throw, send her back, can’t throw, send her back.”
The rest of the
Getting no response to her query, Donte said, “Rest a moment Pell, I’ll get you some tea.” She scurried off toward the cookfire.
Before they ate dinner they sat through one of Pont’s interminable ceremonies, this one to “Thank the Spirit Boar for restoring Gontra’s finger.” Gontra even did the drumming, holding his new “knobby stick” in his poulticed hand. Pont danced about chanting monotonously while Lessa chanted a tune that wove through his monotone. The two together did sound haunting. Pell sat against the back wall of the cave covertly sipping the tea Donte had brought him and wondering whether the healer had ever actually made anyone better. Or did he just take the credit when they did get well? Pell realized with a start that Pont certainly spread the blame when people got worse under his ministrations. Someone else had always “angered the Spirits” when the healer failed to make one of his patients better.
After they ate Roley announced that they would have another big hunt in the morning. While the hunters were out, the women were to pack for the move to the summer hunting area. If the hunt was successful they should have enough meat to tide them through the move and so they would begin their transit the day after the hunt.
Pell had great difficulty sleeping that night. He lay awake thinking of how he should have made Gontra and Exen march past the cave with him to the upper stream before reducing the finger. He should have insisted on better payment than that old knife. He should have insisted on accompanying them back to the cave after he put Gontra’s finger back in place. He should have said something when he got back to the cave and found the celebration in progress—though he knew no one would believe him. But maybe Gontra would have admitted it. He should have… He should have…
The next morning Pell woke thinking of the brush tunnel. He had been going to go sit by it today. The more he thought about it, the more sure he felt that some passing animal would get stuck in there long enough for him to put a spear into it! He would have to go by himself so that he could claim to have killed it in a real hunt. He snorted—the way people had been turning against him, going hunting by himself wasn’t going to be a problem.
Roley was already organizing the big hunt though. As per Roley’s usual, this involved a lot of bellowing at other hunters, shouting at the women and children, stamping of his feet and cuffing the slow moving. When he got into this kind of mood it created a lot of anxiety among the other Aldans. Pell resigned himself to trying to visit the brush tunnel later in the day, if the big hunt was successful before it got too late . Roley soon had all the hunters out on the trail down toward the great river, most of them gnawing on a remnant of yesterday’s kill.
It was overcast but not particularly cold. Pell’s stomach was not growling as he had had a few remnants of last night’s feast before setting out. He had even gotten over some of his dismay at Gontra’s betrayal and was looking forward to an opportunity to prove himself in the day’s hunt. But, then Denit turned to Exen and said, “Don’t you think that Pell should have stayed back with the rest of the women to pack?”
Pell’s stomach lurched.
Exen looked over at Pell out of the corner of his eye and quickly glanced away. To Denit he said “Yeah, you should let your dad know that we’ve accidentally brought one of the girls with us on the hunt.”
Denit laughed. Then he shouted ahead, “Roley, one of the girls has come along on the hunt. Do you want to send her back?”
Roley turned in anger, scanning up and down the line. “Where is she?” he demanded.
Denit laughed and pointed at Pell, “Can’t throw, send her back, can’t throw, send her back.”
The rest of the
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