The Trek: Darwin's World, Book II (The Darwin's World Series 2)

by Jack L Knapp

  The men nodded soberly and Sal took charge, sending men to do the different tasks. Matt watched for a moment, then went back to camp.

  #

  Lee was watching Callie and her mom prepare the steaks. Matt watched as Callie handed Lee a steak, already skewered on a green stick. Lee used one of the forked sticks around the fire to prop his steak over the coals. Matt decided to see if they'd give him a steak too, and his was soon broiling next to Lee's.

  "Tex is a good hunter as well as a good fighter."

  "That he is, Matt. I spoke to him for a few minutes. He said there's a herd of buffalo about two miles northwest of here. He said there was also a herd of mammoths past the buffalo, at least a dozen he said. He left after that."

  "He's gone again?"

  Lee nodded. "I think he wants to try for another buffalo."

  "What did he do with the rest of the buffalo? I only saw two hindquarters."

  "He said he couldn't drag more than that, so he ate some of the backstrap and left the rest. Coyotes and foxes gotta eat too, that's what he said."

  "I suppose. Nothing's wasted here. What we don't eat, some other animal will. I wonder why he didn't stay in camp tonight?

  "Matt, I don't think he's adjusted to living with people yet. He spent ten years alone and I suspect he's more comfortable out in the bush. He'll come back when it suits him."

  "I guess you're right. Maybe I'll get a chance to talk to him next time he's back. Time to turn the steaks, wouldn't you say?”

  #

  Tex crawled from the river, picking up his bow, quiver, and spear from the lashed-together limbs he'd used as a float. He untied the two thin ropes from the bundle, coiling them and slinging them over his shoulder; after they dried, he would replace them in his small pack. Finished, he pushed the limbs away from the bank and watched the slow current take them.

  He soon crested a small rise and spotted the buffalo grazing, still only a few miles away. There was no sign of the mammoths, but they'd be around. For such huge animals, they possessed an uncanny ability to disappear into the brush. Probably it was the gray skin covered by thin brown wool that made it possible.

  But so long as they weren't a threat, Tex didn't care. He had a different quarry in mind.

  He passed upwind from the buffalo and watched as they spooked, heads up, the old bull taking position between Tex and the herd. Tex gave him a wide berth and continued on. Over the next rise...yes, there they were. Tex smiled and reached into his pack. The pot of honey he'd gotten from Callie was still there.

  Tex had a plan for that honey.

  Chapter 24

  Tex trotted across the grassy countryside, bow in hand, arrows in his quiver. The landscape was more open here and few trees or bushes existed to hide predators, so he felt no need to restrict his speed by keeping an arrow ready on the string.

  Despite the necessity of alternately climbing and descending the low hills and ridges west of the river, Tex was breathing easily.

  Ahead lay a natural trap. Tex had immediately seen the possibilities of the wide, shallow gully; it had steep walls and a half-acre pond at the lower end that appeared to be seasonal, expanding or shrinking depending on rainfall.

  A number of animals had been using the pond for drinking. Tex identified the tracks of cats, dire wolves, and a number of hoofed animals. There were fewer buffalo tracks than expected; for that matter, the large cloven-hooved tracks might not be buffalo at all. They might have come from a large elk or the stag-moose Lee had described.

  But the other hoofed tracks weren't cloven, and Tex had stiffened in excitement when he first saw them. The tracks were rounded at the front, extending all the way around to both sides without a break. In his previous life Tex had seen thousands like them. True, these were a little smaller, but there was no doubt about it; the tracks had been made by horses. Patiently he worked out their numbers and decided that this band had a stallion, perhaps a dozen mares and fillies, and a pair of foals from the spring birthing.

  That seemed unusually low, but maybe the birth rate was different here, some mares coming into season at irregular times. Or perhaps there had been more offspring, but predators had killed the others.

  It was something to consider, predators. Tex had a use for the horses, and the predators would have to go elsewhere or die. For now, it was enough to know the horses were in the vicinity and that they had good graze and water. They were unlikely to leave unless forced to do so.

  As for the cats, there might be a use for them too. Tex had eaten cat a number of times, and much preferred the taste of the saber-toothed variety to lion.

  Lions had an unpleasant, gamy taste. The lion's skin was useful for making rawhide gear but not for garments; it tended to dry rough and stiff, and working it into leather was more trouble than the finished product was worth. The rawhide carried the smell of cat, but Tex intended to turn that liability into advantage.

  Scattered trees offered concealment and protection. All in all, this area lacked only one thing, a woman or two to provide companionship and a family. But that might be remedied after a visit or two to the tribe. Their camp was only about five or six miles back, and Tex believed Callie had shown definite signs of interest.

  He selected his campsite and began collecting the things he'd need, firewood, tinder to start the fire, branches for building a shelter and a number of rocks he thought would be useful. Deciding he had enough, he began constructing a shelter.

  It was simple enough to do, cutting and stacking sod to make three low walls, finally incorporating branches and heavier beams into a slanting roof. The front was left open for now. Tex dug a hole for the fire-pit and laid the rocks around it as a border.

  Late in the afternoon, he picked up his bow and nocked an arrow. The bottom of the shallow gully formed a trail that animals used when visiting the pond. Tex walked along the course of the gully, looking for an animal trail leading down from the edge. Eventually he found what he wanted and settled in to wait, hidden behind some brush. Behind him stood a tree he could climb if necessary.

  Hunters on Darwin’s World could suddenly become the hunted; it had happened to Tex before.

  There was only a slight favorable breeze, blowing across the trail to where Tex waited in ambush. He got as comfortable as possible; thereafter, only his eyes moved, ceaselessly scanning the land around.

  #

  Matt carefully examined the knot joining the aft end of the raft to the long cable. Yanking on the cable, he felt no give. Hand on the cable, he followed it up the river bank to a large tree. Sal's men had wrapped the cable twice around the tree before securing the tie with a girth-hitch. Someone, perhaps inspired by the mishap the day before, had used smaller cord to secure the girth hitch against unwrapping. Careful was good; Matt looked, and approved. A spring-line was firmly tied to the cable thirty feet above where it joined the raft, a loop tied in the line just below the knot. The remainder of the line had been passed around a log, then fed back through the loop. The rope end led finally back to the raft. Clever...this would serve as a 'pulley' for use in adjusting the angle of the raft, now a true reaction ferry. Assuming it worked, of course.

  "I guess we're ready, Sal. Who's riding the first trip?"

  "You and Lee are passengers, Matt. You'll be guards on land after we reach the other side. I'll work on the ferry with a pole and I've got Dominick, José, Antonio and Manuel to help. They’re good swimmers all, and we worked with the poles late yesterday so everyone's used to handling them. Hopefully we won't get in each other's way."

  "If it works like I hope, we probably won't need that many polemen. Are you sure?"

  "Better to have too many than too few. We don't know what we'll find over there. We'll also have our bows if we need them, spears too. I think we're ready."

  Matt nodded. "Let's do it."

  Sal turned and nodded to his crew. The poles lay ready on the raft, and the men Sal had listed took their places at the stern of the heavy ferry. Matt and Lee la
id their weapons on the raft, preparing to help push off.

  "You two on the raft, Matt. We can handle this. Just leave me room in the bow. I'm going to handle the spring line myself. Unless somebody better shows up, I plan to be the ferryman." Sal grinned and Matt returned it. Sal had certainly looked competent during the first voyage yesterday.

  Sal helped push the ferry away and as soon as it began to move, he grabbed the sturdy upstream rail and hauled himself aboard. The others followed behind him, dripping on the raft where their legs had gotten wet. Perhaps a small pier or jetty later...? But first, they needed to see how the ferry functioned.

  Sal judged the current as his polemen took station at the aft end of the ferry. Planting their poles, they pushed strongly in unison. The raft responded and moved forward. Sal began hauling on the free end of the spring line where it passed through the loop near the main cable. The raft slowly changed orientation, bow slightly upstream.

  "Looks good, Sal. What happens if you don't get it right?"

  "We just drift back where we started, Matt. It's pretty simple once you understand it. Being the ferryman is easy and it’s a lot less work than setting up camp again on the other side!"

  Both men laughed. Sal was one of the hardest-working people Matt had ever seen. Even in a tribe where everybody worked hard, Sal stood out. Always enthusiastic, always ready to help, Sal was a natural foreman. He might not be a candidate for tribal leader, but in his element he was outstanding.

  "Poles in!" At Sal's command, the polemen lifted their poles and stood them upright, butt down and dripping on the deck. Matt moved to the center of the ferry to make room; the polemen might be needed on the downstream side as the ferry approached the far bank. For now, they simply waited. If the water was shallow when they got there, they could hop in and resume pushing from the stern.

  The ferry moved across the current, drifting slightly downstream in the process. The course soon described an arc, rapidly moving toward the center of the river, then drifting slowly across toward the far bank. Matt looked at the grinning polemen. They'd had a few minutes of gut-straining effort followed by a smooth ride, the kind of ride none of them had experienced since arriving on Darwin's World. Matt smiled; this could be something people would enjoy, as well as being utilitarian.

  The long cable stretched as the rope had done the previous day. That rope, attached as a safety line, now reached back to the bank where they'd launched the ferry. But so far it hadn't been needed; the main cable had been able to work with the current instead of fighting it, which lessened the strain. Even so, there was still danger. The rope might break after a few soakings in river water.

  The polemen responded to Sal's order by planting their poles and pushing. In the bow, Sal loosened the spring line and let the raft keep moving forward, now broadside to the river. The ferry gently contacted the shallows at the bank and Matt jumped, followed by Lee. Wading from the shallow water, the two found positions near large trees, bows in hand and arrows on the strings. Each had his spear slung across his back.

  "We'll wait here, Sal. Tell Colin to begin loading the carts. We'll watch for your return and you can throw us a rope. We'll pull you to shore."

  Sal nodded and spoke to the pole crew. The craft drifted away and as soon as the current caught it, Sal loosened the bridle rope and let the aft end point upstream.

  The ferry soon approached the far bank and men began hauling in on the safety rope, still attached. The ferry was some ten feet down the bank; the cable had stretched. But adjusting the cable length was simple, and soon the ferry would depart from and land at the same place each time after the cable had stretched.

  Matt and Lee left the riverbank and began scouting the woods west of the river. They shortly found a level spot, with tree cover and a number of trees that would be candidates for wheels after cutting. But they found no dangers, and soon headed back to wait for Sal's return.

  #

  Tex wearily stumbled into his camp. He'd carried the meat and skin more than two miles and had barely made it home before dark. The nights were cool at this elevation, so perhaps the meat wouldn't spoil before he could cure it into jerky.

  The hide would need processing too, but it would have to wait. He laid his tinder near the pile of wood and began striking sparks from the flint knife's hilt. Practice helped; barely a minute later the tinder was smoldering. Tex held it in his cupped hands and nursed the tiny spark, blowing carefully until he saw flames appear. Laying the burning tinder on the ground, he carefully fed small twigs into the flames. There was enough wood in the nearby stack to keep the fire going through the night.

  Huddling close to the warmth, Tex sliced two steaks from the backstraps he'd carried wrapped in the skin. Good eating, none better; the meat had come from one of the big deerlike animals that Matt had called a stag-moose. He placed a few vegetables near the edge of the fire and waited for them to cook, turning them occasionally so they'd cook evenly without burning. The steaks would need less time to cook; he waited for a good bed of coals to form, then propped the meat over the coals on skewers. Reflected heat would help keep him comfortable later by warming the interior of the shelter.

  Food, shelter, water close by...Tex settled in for a long stay. There was plenty of game and the horses wouldn't leave unless he chased them away.

  #

  He'd watched the small band as they warily approached the pond. The stallion watched too; the mares and yearlings waded in first, drank, then left the water. A mare, apparently older, stood by and watched for danger as the others began grazing. Only then did the stallion wade in and drink.

  The horses grazed for a time on the grass near the pond's edge, then drank again.

  After the second watering, they walked away down the wide gully. Half a mile on they found a trail, climbed up the steep side and soon disappeared, hidden from view by the gully’s lip.

  Tex had discovered a pattern.

  The horses had come to water in mid-afternoon, arriving from the north and leaving to the south. He would watch again; if they were as habitual as downtime horses, they'd follow a predictable circuit. Graze at dawn, bed down for a short time, then graze again. One of the band always watched over the others as they snoozed.

  The small herd traveled as they grazed, moving slowly unless spooked. Tex would watch again in a few days. Meantime, he expected to spend at least a month here, possibly longer.

  Tex was patient, a necessary quality in a horse-trainer.

  #

  Matt looked on as the new camp began to take shape. The cooking fire was going and people began to move in that direction as soon as they'd made shelters for the night. Willow seemed to be the preferred building material; most of the tribe had cut green shoots and built beehive-shaped dwellings about six feet tall. Bedding was soon rolled out, and short of a cloudburst blowing in that would flood the shelters, the tribe was ready to spend their first night in the new camp.

  Matt intended to remain in camp while Sal and his crew rebuilt the carts, but perhaps he could still go hunting with Lee. If they found a herd of buffalo nearby, they could always come back and lead a larger hunting party there. A few of the carts could be used to haul meat back to camp, despite the need for repairs.

  Margrette had gathered branches for building a smoking rack. A good stock of meat, if preserved, might last them until late summer, even early fall. But first there was the task of killing animals, salting and smoking the meat, preparing the skins to replace what they'd lost or abandoned and to provide sleeping pads for the new members...

  Even so, life in the camp would be easier than traveling. Two weeks, perhaps a bit more, should see them back on the trek. And they’d have better carts and a new supply of food and skins. They would also have had a chance to rest up and eat better, so the tribe should be able to move a little faster when they resumed traveling.

  And they would need to move faster if they were to reach the western mountains in time to build permanent shelters before winter.


  #

  Matt considered what to do if there wasn't time to find that perfect location he had in mind. Could they stay here, near the river? Perhaps build shelters on one of the ridges? Maybe they could drag timbers into place to serve as a hasty protective barrier around the camp?

  Carrying water up the slope would be a chore, but at least they were no longer threatened by human enemies. The river might flood and there was no telling how severe the winter might be around here, and there would always be danger from animals. But the predators had kept their distance, at least so far.

  How much food was available in the vicinity? How hard would it be to build shelters that could protect them through the winter?

  The tribe would be in much better shape to continue next year, but after spending fall and winter near this river, would they want to? Would they choose to improve this location rather than look for something better? It was preferable to the place they'd left, but still not easy to defend, even if they built on the high ground atop a ridge.

  No; they wouldn't stay here, although stopping and constructing temporary winter quarters farther west might become necessary. They should be able to reach the place where the downtime city of Albuquerque stood if they could begin moving within two or three weeks. A river ran through there too, and natives had farmed and ranched in that area long before the Spanish came. The climate was not severe, not quite the warm winters of El Paso to the south, but still rarely dipping to zero on the ancient Fahrenheit scale. Nights were cold, followed by days where the temperature rebounded thirty or forty degrees. The nearby mountains would provide shelter from prevailing winds if the tribe chose their location carefully. And if that place couldn't be reached in time, there were two other options to consider.