by Karen Pepin
I washed the yellow cress and seed pods in the small stream not far from where most of my clan was at work. I delivered my gatherings to Jo'Lin. She and Li worked on the meal near the main fire, though Li mostly stared listlessly into the flames. Lin's daughter, Talla, sat nearby and happily scratched pictures into the earth with a stick. Six more of my clan mates were finishing up the new canoe. It was hard work and they worked quickly, shaping the outside and hollowing out the center. Normally, half that number would work on a new canoe during a Gathering, giving us all time to rest up after the strenuous crossing. However, with our late arrive to the Northern lands and the herds having moved on, Ven'Ta pushed them to finish so we could catch up.
Others were mending packs or their foot leathers for traveling. Some were cleaning the furred skins of the small animals caught. My belongings were in good shape and needed no work at this time. For lack of anything better to do, I decided to forage the edge of the meadow and see if I could find edibles or wood for the fire. I had barely begun, when Col'Ses waved me back over. I sighed. The edge of the woods had been thoroughly picked clean by the other clans who had already came through. It was expected. I was sure that was another reason why Ven'Ta wanted us to move on as soon as possible.
As I returned to camp, I saw why I had been called. Ven'Ta was going to sign the register. Everyone gathered together to witness it. A wave of excitement and nostalgia slid over me. The learning to make the word symbols was passed down by the elders and by the chiefs to the next generation. Typically, they were the only ones who learned this skill. There was little time to teach the rest of us. I always found the lines and swirls fascinating and wanted to understand their meaning. My grandmother had been an elder. She had taught Neri'Hera.
I remembered one time when I was small, when Lasa and I had been fighting enough to annoy every adult in hearing distance. My grandmother clucked her tongue, sent Lasa to collect firewood, and sat me down next to her to scrape symbols in the hard-packed dirt with a stick. Letters, she called them. She taught me just enough to spell my name that first time, but I was entranced. I begged her to keep teaching me and she did. It was something to do to keep an active grandchild busy and out of the way in the evening. She died when I was seven season cycles old. I missed her still.
Every time Ven'Ta signed the register, I thought of Grandmother, and the value of letters.
The register consisted of a wide plank of wood as long as a man's arm. Ven'Ta would record the name of our clan, our number, the number and names of those who died, and the number of those who were pregnant. He also marked if someone left to join another clan or if someone joined ours in a mating. Watching him carve those symbols into wood filled me with pride. The names of those lost would not be forgotten. Our clan would be known by name, at least to the other clans. Ta'Bor watched the process intently. One day, when he was chief, he would take over this important duty. Then the clan name would pass to him.
No matter how long it took to etch those letters into the wood, everyone stayed to silently witness the process. We inscribed our details at every Gathering so other clans would know how we fared if we did not meet up. When Ven’Ta was done, the record would be returned to its place of storage in the same location as where we stored our canoes.
I watched small curls of dark wood fall from the board as Ven'Ta wiped it clean after he finished carving. He nodded to the group that had finished the new canoe. Together, they carried it, the newly crafted paddles, and the register off to store for the next gathering. As I watched the procession's measured steps toward the storage cave, the weight of this ceremony, something holy, opened up a stillness inside me. I wondered briefly what the future had in store for us and if I would one day be written on that register as someone's mate. The thought made me shiver as if a cold breeze brushed my body.
What would living with another clan be like? Davin and his clan weren't far from my thoughts. Typically, in a mating between two clans, the chiefs and elders decided with which clan the new couple would travel. Smaller clans often took the couple to help grow their numbers. Larger clans let their clan mate go with a good heart and blessing. In clans of equal size, the leaders would come to a decision by taking into account the preferences and relationships of the woman and the man.
As much as I wanted to join another clan before Ta'Bor became our leader, I knew that it was more likely, due to our clan's size, that my mate would join us, unless our chief objected. Ven'Ta couldn't have missed how Ta'Bor and I always seemed at odds. My mother asked me often why we couldn't get along. I tried my best, but something about Ta'Bor put me on edge and made me want to hit something.
There were always exceptions to mating and emigrating rules though. Once Ta'Bor became chief, I could petition at the following Gathering to join another clan. Few did such a thing, but it had happened. And maybe I could push standard protocol to petition before Ta'Bor became chief: leave now and join Davin's clan! Would I be happy there? The only thing holding me back was my family. I didn't want to leave my mother. I would even miss my sister despite her sharp tongue.
Changing clans was a worry for another day. For now, I just needed to focus on the journey coming up. We had to find the herds and build our jerky supply for the lean times. Summer in the north was a time of harvest, and although we still had to move constantly with the herds, it was also an easier time wherein we could stop and camp more frequently. Especially if the herds weren't moving, we could linger a bit, taking more time than usual to smoke and dry the meat from our hunts.
The next morning dawned clear and bright. Orange Anari hovering close by her golden sister, Ahuna, was a welcome sight. I felt more positive then I had in a long time. We headed north, searching for signs of the katerri herds. Ved and Ses took the lead, searching for tracks, droppings, or broken twigs from where the katerri had bounded through the thick scrub brush that pressed close to the game trails we followed. We gathered colgi berries and dug out choka roots from the rich red soil as we traveled. Pink fern seeds and scrubby cattal bulbs were also plentiful in these woods, and we plucked them easily as we walked.
We did not travel as fast as our journey to the Divide, but still moved at a fair clip. The hunters, on point and in the rear, occasionally veered off to catch small game like wivern, rochin, and slithers along the edge of the woods. These bits of meat did not feed many, but they added up. The fur and skins were welcome also, as they could be made into many useful items that were always wearing down or breaking. I wanted to catch some game for myself. The clan shared everything, but typically the leather went to the hunter who had caught it, or to a clan member who needed it. I always felt ashamed of asking for leather that I myself had not procured.
For an entire eclipse cycle, we traveled, enjoying the pleasant summer weather. We found a few small herds here and there, and took some katerri. But, we were looking for a larger herd, one where we could catch a dozen of the animals. A good hunt would also mean we could stop for a spell, cure the meat for a few days. All too soon we would have to start heading south again. After what happened, Ven'Ta was determined to pay closer attention to the seasons.
The crossing south was much harder than the crossing north, due to currents. Also, there was no peninsula jutting out from the southern coast, down-current from our northern crossing point. The s-curve between the two points farthest into the Divide would be west of us now. The Divide had a tight channel and some curves to it, but not enough to give us the same protected landing point as we had when crossing to the north. The current would push us farther east and we'd have to travel twice as far to store our canoes once we landed.
Additionally, massive storms blew up in the autumn, storms we did not have to contend with when crossing north. Earlier was always better for the autumn southern crossing. We held another Gathering in the northern lands before this crossing, and sometimes clans crossed together as an assurance of more protection. If you got separated from your clan, you could join another unt
il you met up with your clan again. Another factor making the journey south more of a challenge was the fact we had to carry the canoes west to their storage at the Crossing Point. This was a much farther trek in this direction, and again, it was better to go with another clan than to go alone.
Our clan found a large herd of katerri only six days before the second eclipse, which would mark our need to start south again. Because of the size of the herd, Ven'Ta decided that all able hunters would participate, in the hopes we might outdo ourselves. The katerri were grazing in a glen surrounded by woods. This made our approach easier, as we were less likely to startle them. The night before the hunt, Ven'Ta placed his hand on Ta'Bor’s shoulder and announced that he would lead for the first time. Ta’Bor practically glowed with pride.
Ta'Bor's plan was simple: The brunt of our warriors would ring one side of the clearing, just within cover of the trees. Once ready, three hunters—Turin, Cendran, and Sal—would startle the animals from the other side and send them towards us for the kill.
The next morning, as we prepared to leave, I practically bounced in place with nerves and excitement. I had hunted before and was considered adequate with my spear, but my age and inexperience had limited me to much smaller hunts, where the more experienced hunters could catch my mistakes. A hunt like this one would prove my worth to the clan. I had become an adult by clan standards over a year ago at age fifteen, but felt I was still being treated like a child, unworthy of the trust and responsibilities of adulthood. This would be my first greater hunt as a clan adult. I prayed to the Hunter to guide my spear just as Ta'Bor signaled it was time to take up our positions.
I followed the other hunters and, watching the herd through the trees, moved slowly and carefully to the spot that Ses had told me to take. I slipped into a narrow hollow located behind three trees that had grown closely together. There I could remain hidden, but still within view of the herd. The katerri, at least one hundred strong, spread across the meadow, daintily nibbling at the bluegrass with their mobile snouts. Their large expressive eyes made them appear innocent, but I knew that katerri, like all cornered or frightened animals, could be dangerous when attacked.
The herd bounded along, using their strong legs to cover great distances with little effort. They were known to strike out with those legs when threatened or to use their long, flexible tails as a whip to strike the enemy. The small horn nubbins on the males’ heads, used to fight off competing males during mating season, could also be used to butt away predators. I needed to catch a katerri by surprise as it passed my hiding spot; I needed to stay out of the animal’s striking range. Aim for the thick neck for the quick kill, or aim for one of their haunches. Wounded, a katteri would not be able to run.
I repeated these tips to myself over and over. They say that in the heat of a hunt, an inexperienced hunter tends to forget all training. I swallowed hard and set my shoulders. I was inexperienced, but determined to bring one down.
Just as my clan mates were perfecting their positions, a cacophony of shrieks startled the herd. The katerri swiftly stampeded and I nearly panicked as they raced toward my hiding spot. Our hunters had startled them too soon. Why hadn't they waited for Ta'Bor's signal?
It didn't matter now. I held my spear up and at the ready. I could see out of the corner of my eye others preparing, and then the katerri were upon us. They bounded past us like rocks bouncing down a hill. I stepped out of my hidden shelter and made a strike at one as it jumped past me, catching it in the neck with my spear. Before I had the chance to whoop in triumph, something struck me hard and I hit the ground. The blow tore my spear from my hands, leaving it in the dying animal. I tried to breathe, but all I could do was gasp and wheeze. All around me the herd fled. I had been knocked out into the open and had nothing to shield me from the stampede.
From the ground, the katerri were larger than life. Terrified I'd be trampled, I curled into a ball, protecting my head. Something grabbed me and pulled me to standing. I opened my eyes and watched as Davin confidently speared a katerri that would have otherwise trampled me.
I blinked: Where had Davin come from? I looked around and saw twice the number of hunters as there should have been. It took me a long moment to realize what had happened: Our hunters hadn't startled the herd early, Tika'Chen's clan had been hunting the same herd and set them off without knowing we had the same plan. I gaped at Davin as he pulled his bloody spear from the katerri. Its hind legs kicked and twitched feebly as its life fled.
"Fancy meeting you here," he said, with a cocky grin. I could only stare at him in amazement. When I didn't answer, he asked, "You are all right, aren't you? Not hurt?"
"I'm fine," I stammered.
"Where's your spear?" he said frowning. I pointed at another, now-dead katerri. He went over, pulled it out, and gave it to me.
"First hunt?" he asked. I wanted to say I had been a skilled hunter for some time, but the word "yes" popped out of my mouth before I could lie.
"Good job. I didn't make a kill on my first major hunt," he said. Surely, he was jesting, saying that to make me feel better, saying what he thought I might want to hear. I shook my head, feeling dazed. He looked at me closely.
"Come on. I think that blow addled your wits. Perhaps you should sit."
"I'm fine," I repeated. “Really, I am. I'm just so surprised. How did you...?"
"I saw the katerri hit you and you went down. So, I came and grabbed you before you got trampled."
"Thank the Hunter you did," I said.
"I'm grateful as well. It was our fault that the katerri stampeded you."
"You didn't know we were here. We didn't know you were here either." I looked out over the glen. There must have been thirty katerri lying dead. I felt giddy. With that many katerri, both clans would do well.
"This will keep us all busy for a few days with butchering and smoking," I said, gesturing to the bodies. Davin’s smile returned, anticipation bringing a sassy glint to his eyes.
That night, our clans celebrated together late into the night, with a bonfire that was big enough for us all to use for warmth, food, safety, and storytelling. As part of the celebration, Neri'Hera was asked to tell the story of the Hunter. I sat next to Davin, his very presence warming me more than the roaring fire.
"This is the story, as I was taught it, passed down throughout the ages," she began. "A long time ago, the Wanderer had a younger brother who was called the Hunter. When the Wanderer left for the stars, the Hunter understood, for to travel was the Wanderer's nature. But, after a time, he found that he missed his elder brother. So, He went in search of Him. He traveled the stars, following the trail left by his brother, for the Hunter was a skilled tracker. After a time, though the Hunter became weary, He refused to give up. Finally, younger brother found older brother, far from their once-home. When the Hunter decided to stay and rest, He saw those who followed his brother struggling in this new remote home and pitied them. He taught them the skills to survive and sent them game to hunt so they wouldn't starve. When the Wanderer’s followers began to do too well with their lessons, the Hunter grew bored and angry at their arrogance. So, He created more dangerous beasts to teach them humility and to challenge their skills. Now, He watches in the sky with his brother. Some days, the Hunter favors those who followed the Wanderer across the stars; Other days, the beasts He created. May the Hunter guide and protect us."
"The Hunter."
"Today, we give thanks to the Hunter for his bounty."
"The Hunter."
"And we give thanks for His teachings that made this possible. He has blessed us indeed."
"The Hunter."
"And now we will share the bounty among each other and celebrate this night for our many blessings."
A roar of cheers rose. My voice rang out joyously with the others. It was a good hunt. I glanced at Davin. A very good hunt.
7
It would take the rest of the day to butcher the kills and probab
ly several more days to smoke all the meat. We also had to scrape the hides clean and cure them. At final count, our two clans had taken down thirty-four katerri. I had taken one, and would be able to claim its hide as my own. Pride at my accomplishment buoyed my spirit almost as much as Davin's interest in spending time with me did.
Ven'Ta and Tika'Chen urged us to hurry in our butchering. With this many dead on the ground, they feared bollar packs would come. The chiefs ordered several hunters to create a perimeter watch just in case. Since I killed a katerri, I got to butcher it. Davin knelt nearby, working on his kill.
"Davin," called Tobi, one of his clan mates. "I challenge you."
"I accept. Anyone else?"
Hoots of laughter and agreement came from his clan mates who were working their kills. Davin grinned at me.
"What challenge?" I asked.
"It's a race to see who can finish butchering their kill fastest. The winner gets bragging rights about their skill."
I had helped butcher katerri before, but never a whole one by myself. I had only just finished skinning mine.
"Come on," Davin said. The mischief dancing in his eyes made me smile. "Besides, it doesn't matter if you are the fastest or not. The idea is to make this fun."
"All right. I'm in," I said, feeling bold.
"Ready?" Tobi yelled a minute later. "Go!"
Everyone began working as fast as they were able. Tika'Chen's clan members teased each other as they worked and I laughed at their absurd insults.
A young woman from Tika'Chen's clan yelled, "I'm going to beat you all."
"Never, Shel. You are slower than a broken-legged wivern," a young man called back.
"And you're slower than a dead bollar," another shouted.
The teasing between clan members became more fierce as some individuals got close to finishing. I sawed through the meat as fast as I could without ruining it, but was still only two-thirds of the way done when Tobi shouted victory. Davin and the woman, Shel, each finished bare moments later. I kept working. Yells of triumph signaled that others had finished. I pushed myself harder. I didn't want to be last.
