The Dog Master

The Dog Master by W. Bruce Cameron Page B

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Authors: W. Bruce Cameron
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right, where the single men slept beneath their tents of skin, and the hunters gathered around their fire to discuss important matters. “And that is the men’s side. Do children go to the men’s side?”
    â€œNo!” the children chorused without guile. They all knew they were not supposed to visit their fathers over there, but they would all do so until they were old enough to understand.
    â€œNow show me the woman’s hand,” Renne instructed. Kidding, Calli held up her man’s hand and the children laughed at her as they wildly thrust their left hands into the air. “That is correct.” The women’s side was far more open—children ran in and out of the area. Only men were forbidden access.
    Then Renne spread her arms to indicate the rest of the settlement. Behind her, a hill of rocks revealed some small caves, and in front of her, families had leaned skin-covered poles on boulders or had fashioned tents out of mammoth bones and animal hides. Unlike the relatively small men’s and women’s sides, the section in the middle, the communal area, spread from the hills to the stream. Anyone might wander in the communal area, though it was only polite to give family tents a buffer zone of privacy. “And this is for all the Kindred,” Renne pronounced. “From here to the stream. But should children ever try to cross the stream, take the stream path up water, from where the stream flows, or down water, to where it goes?”
    â€œNo,” the children ventured as one, but without the joyous enthusiasm. They knew why they should never enter those places: the Cohort was out there and would steal them away from their parents.
    Renne and the children left just as Bellu joined Calli at the fire. “Is this it? Only two rabbits?” Bellu looked dubiously at the two small carcasses.
    As fire maker for the Kindred, Bellu had probably the least arduous job of anyone—the communal fire burned perpetually, so that only when the tribe was on the move was there any actual “making.” She even had children assigned to fetch her kindling.
    But, at age sixteen, Bellu was beautiful. Her legend told of a face so charming that grown men sang to her, and her formal name, “Her Face Brings Happiness to All with Its Beauty” was an apt appellation for a woman who had straight teeth, a face free of scars, flashing dark eyes, and symmetrical features. Her hair was thick and black and long, and she wore it free and flowing like a child. Like Calli, Bellu was eligible for marriage now—it was a topic they discussed frequently.
    â€œI hope the hunt is successful,” Calli remarked. “Who is going?”
    Bellu was an authority on the hunt because she had five brothers, but Calli already knew who was going; she just wanted Bellu to bring up Urs’s name.
    Bellu was frowning, her pink tongue in the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on scooping up a hot rock from the center of the fire using two sticks. She looked up at the question and the rock rolled back. “Here comes Albi,” she hissed.
    Calli bent over, concentrating on stirring dinner.
    â€œSo,” Albi pronounced, her bulky shadow falling over the younger women as she dipped a dirty finger into the soup. She tasted it and made a face. “You cannot feed the hunt with this! You need more grass. Go fetch some.”
    Calli and Bellu looked at each other. “My mother went to get…”
    â€œI do not care what your mother said, I am telling you this needs more grass.” Albi thumped her thick stick on the ground. “Are you arguing? No. Then go.”
    They went. When Calli glanced back, Albi was standing with her arms folded, glaring at them.
    â€œI am so sick of grass,” Bellu muttered. “Where are the reindeer? Why is hunting so bad this year?”
    â€œWhy does Albi want us to leave the fire?” Calli wondered out

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