spear must have a point.
Therefore you must learn to know one stone from another, to see the spearpoint or the blade where it hides inside the stone, learn to open the stone and find that which is hidden inside. Now your lesson begins." He gave the rounded, water-worn rock to Kerrick. "This is the hammerstone. See how smooth it is? Feel its weight. It is a stone that will break other stones. It will open this one which is named a bladestone."
Kerrick turned the pebble over and over in his hands, staring at it with fierce concentration, noting its rough surface and shining angles. Ogatyr sat patiently until he was done, then took it back.
"There is no spearhead trapped in here," he said. "It is the wrong size, the wrong shape. But there are blades here, one here, see it? Feel it? I now release it."
Ogatyr carefully placed the bladestone on the ground and struck it with the hammerstone. A sharp chip cracked off the side.
"There is the blade," he said. "Sharp, but not sharp enough. Now watch closely and see what I do."
He took a bit of deer antler from his bag, then placed the chip of stone on his thigh and pressed the edge West of Eden - Harry Harrison
carefully with the tip of the antler. Each time he did this a tiny chip was flaked off. When he had worked the length of it, the blade was sharp and true. He handed it to Amahast who had patiently watched the entire operation. Amahast bounced it in his palm and nodded with appreciation. With practiced skill he slashed an opening in the deer's hide and cut it from neck to groin.
"No one in our sammad can make the stone yield up its blades as this one can," Amahast said. "Let him teach you, my son, for a hunter without a blade is no hunter at all."
Kerrick seized the stones eagerly and cracked them together. Nothing happened. He tried again, with as little success. Only when Ogatyr took hold of his hands and put them in the right position did he succeed in breaking free a ragged chip. But he was quite proud of this first effort and labored to shape it with the bit of deer horn until his fingers were sore.
Big Hastila had been gloomily watching his efforts. Now he crawled out from under the shelter, yawning and stretching, sniffing the air as Ogatyr had done, then plodded up the embankment behind them. The storm was gone, the wind growing gusty as it died down, the sun just beginning to break through. Only the white-topped waves stretching to the horizon still bore witness to the past day's fury. On the landward side the embankment fell away again down to a grassy marsh. He saw dark forms picking their way through it; he slowly crouched and moved back to the shelter.
"More deer out there. The hunting is good in this place."
"The boat is full," Amahast said, slicing away a bit of smoking meat. "Any more and she will sink."
"My bones ache from lying here all day," Hastila grumbled, seizing up his spear. "The other thing the boy must learn is how to reach the game in order to kill it with a sharp new point. Come, Kerrick, take up your spear and follow me. If we cannot kill the deer we can at least stalk them. I will show you how to move upwind and crawl close to even the wariest prey."
Kerrick had his spear in his hand, but looked to his father before he followed the big hunter. Amahast nodded as he chewed the tough meat. "Hastila can show you much. Go with him and learn."
Kerrick laughed happily as he ran after Hastila, then slowed to walk at his side.
"You are too noisy, Hastila said. "All the creatures of the forest have good ears and can hear you coming long before they see you…"
Hastila stopped and held up his hand in a gesture of silence. Then he cupped his hand to his ear and pointed to a hollow in the dunes ahead. Kerrick listened carefully but could hear only the distant rumble of the surf. It slackened for a moment and the other sound was clear, a tiny crackling from the other side of the dune. Hastila raised his spear and moved forward silently. Kerrick
Therefore you must learn to know one stone from another, to see the spearpoint or the blade where it hides inside the stone, learn to open the stone and find that which is hidden inside. Now your lesson begins." He gave the rounded, water-worn rock to Kerrick. "This is the hammerstone. See how smooth it is? Feel its weight. It is a stone that will break other stones. It will open this one which is named a bladestone."
Kerrick turned the pebble over and over in his hands, staring at it with fierce concentration, noting its rough surface and shining angles. Ogatyr sat patiently until he was done, then took it back.
"There is no spearhead trapped in here," he said. "It is the wrong size, the wrong shape. But there are blades here, one here, see it? Feel it? I now release it."
Ogatyr carefully placed the bladestone on the ground and struck it with the hammerstone. A sharp chip cracked off the side.
"There is the blade," he said. "Sharp, but not sharp enough. Now watch closely and see what I do."
He took a bit of deer antler from his bag, then placed the chip of stone on his thigh and pressed the edge West of Eden - Harry Harrison
carefully with the tip of the antler. Each time he did this a tiny chip was flaked off. When he had worked the length of it, the blade was sharp and true. He handed it to Amahast who had patiently watched the entire operation. Amahast bounced it in his palm and nodded with appreciation. With practiced skill he slashed an opening in the deer's hide and cut it from neck to groin.
"No one in our sammad can make the stone yield up its blades as this one can," Amahast said. "Let him teach you, my son, for a hunter without a blade is no hunter at all."
Kerrick seized the stones eagerly and cracked them together. Nothing happened. He tried again, with as little success. Only when Ogatyr took hold of his hands and put them in the right position did he succeed in breaking free a ragged chip. But he was quite proud of this first effort and labored to shape it with the bit of deer horn until his fingers were sore.
Big Hastila had been gloomily watching his efforts. Now he crawled out from under the shelter, yawning and stretching, sniffing the air as Ogatyr had done, then plodded up the embankment behind them. The storm was gone, the wind growing gusty as it died down, the sun just beginning to break through. Only the white-topped waves stretching to the horizon still bore witness to the past day's fury. On the landward side the embankment fell away again down to a grassy marsh. He saw dark forms picking their way through it; he slowly crouched and moved back to the shelter.
"More deer out there. The hunting is good in this place."
"The boat is full," Amahast said, slicing away a bit of smoking meat. "Any more and she will sink."
"My bones ache from lying here all day," Hastila grumbled, seizing up his spear. "The other thing the boy must learn is how to reach the game in order to kill it with a sharp new point. Come, Kerrick, take up your spear and follow me. If we cannot kill the deer we can at least stalk them. I will show you how to move upwind and crawl close to even the wariest prey."
Kerrick had his spear in his hand, but looked to his father before he followed the big hunter. Amahast nodded as he chewed the tough meat. "Hastila can show you much. Go with him and learn."
Kerrick laughed happily as he ran after Hastila, then slowed to walk at his side.
"You are too noisy, Hastila said. "All the creatures of the forest have good ears and can hear you coming long before they see you…"
Hastila stopped and held up his hand in a gesture of silence. Then he cupped his hand to his ear and pointed to a hollow in the dunes ahead. Kerrick listened carefully but could hear only the distant rumble of the surf. It slackened for a moment and the other sound was clear, a tiny crackling from the other side of the dune. Hastila raised his spear and moved forward silently. Kerrick
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