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

by Jack L Knapp

  The tribe would need a reliable water source and a sheltered location wherever it settled; if they found a place that provided those things, it might have to do. The tribe could build durable shelters of stone or earth, not difficult if everyone pitched in. They would have time afterwards to collect food and furs for bedding, then store everything in case the winter should prove more harsh than was the norm downtime.

  Two other locations might work if this country was similar to what existed downtime; the small West Texas town of Balmorhea was near the location of a huge spring that never failed, and south of there lay the Big Bend country. It was desert downtime, but probably temperate and lightly-forested on Darwin's World. There were numerous mountains and canyons there that probably contained the sort of location Matt wanted. Either location could be made to serve as a permanent home for the tribe.

  Yes. It could be done. Matt would talk to Colin, Sal, and Lee tomorrow and see what they thought.

  Chapter 25

  Tex had spent two weeks preparing. The steep-walled gully now had partial obstructions, fences made by dragging and piling trees and brush into place. Openings had been left, but more vegetation was piled nearby in readiness to complete the fencing.

  Best of all, Tex had spent late evenings by the fire braiding reatas, the rawhide ropes used by cowboys throughout the west. Mexicans had made the first ones, but American cowboys had adopted them soon after. Incredibly strong, thin, and lightweight, they served a variety of uses.

  Tex had begun by preparing the raw skins. A string served as his drawing aid to produce the largest circle possible given the size of the skins. The circle told him how large to dig the shallow hole he needed. An elk, two stag-moose, and a lion had provided the skins.

  In each case, Tex used a shallow hole dug into the ground to prepare the raw skin for de-hairing. Placing the skins so that the center portion lay in the hole, flesh side down, he weighted the edges with large stones. The skins would serve as the waterproof liner. Tex added water to his makeshift basin, leaving room for the next step.

  Raking hot stones from the campfire, he added them to the water and let the skin soak. Half an hour later the softened skin was ready and Tex began ripping away huge swaths of hair.

  Between hunting, preparing meals, and preparing the hides, Tex made an improved slicer using a sliver of steel, a gift from Piotr. After shaping the steel by rubbing it on sandstone, he sharpened the edge using a variety of small stones. Finally, he wedged the steel blade into a split at the end of a sturdy branch, leaving a slightly-hooked blade that was razor-sharp on the rear edge. Tying the split firmly closed, he decided the slicer was as good as he could make it.

  Tex prepared a rawhide circle by soaking it in cool water until it was soft and pliable. Beginning at the edge, he carefully began pulling the skin into the slicer blade, trying to keep the thin strip a quarter of an inch wide. He continued the cut, slowly spiraling in toward the center of the hide. He was patient and worked slowly; a mistake now could ruin the thong.

  Patience helped, but he made mistakes until he mastered the technique. The first circle made useful tie-strings, but the mistakes meant they weren't long enough to be plaited into a strong rope. The second attempt at cutting a single, long thong went much better.

  The steel blade of the slicer required sharpening occasionally. Tex trimmed the laces after the initial slicing when they were too wide, this time using the belt knife that had been a gift from the Futurist. He stretched the finished thongs between small trees to dry.

  A simple four-strand plait would work. Downtime rawhide artists sometimes used six, even eight thin strands, but Tex had never learned their techniques. Still, the four-plait was simple enough that a child could do it. The trick lay in pulling the strands tight before moving to the next plait. Lay one strand loosely across the end, secure it in place with the next strand, repeat using the third one, then do the same with the last strand, pulling it under the folded thong he'd started with. The final strand locked the previous ones in position, and pulling all the elements tight into a square meant the plait wouldn't unravel. As for the square corners, they would become worn and rounded in use.

  Finally, everything was ready. Two reatas, hung from tree branches by grass cords, waited near the trees and brush Tex had piled to create a partial barrier across the gully.

  Tex put water and jerky into his small pack and prepared for the ordeal.

  He had two choices, and either might allow him to catch most of the horses. The preferred method was the join-up technique popularized by Monty Roberts, once called the 'horse whisperer'. During his downtime life, Tex had learned as much as he could from what Roberts had written. If it worked, Tex could corral all the horses in the band and take his time training them to be riding stock.

  The alternate method was more a brute-force approach, try to drive the horses into the trap. This was much more difficult for a lone man on foot, and might not be successful.

  Tex turned away from the sod house and trotted toward where the horses were grazing after their morning drink.

  #

  The oldest mare of the band spotted him first and her shrill whistle alerted the others. The stallion responded by placing himself between the small band and Tex. They watched as he trotted toward them, bow in his left hand, reata swinging in his right. The horses stood nervously until the mare pealed her alarm, then all of them pelted away down the gully. As expected, they climbed rapidly up the trail and vanished as soon as they reached the flat ground above. Tex kept trotting and saw the horses in the distance as soon as he topped the gully’s wall.

  He knew he wouldn't catch them today and probably wouldn't do so tomorrow. But if he could make Roberts' method work, perhaps on the third day he could begin returning to the small sod shelter. Meanwhile, he had miles of running to do.

  #

  Matt and Lee had started west at dawn and soon spread apart to cover more ground. Slipping silently through the scattered trees, they watched for game, and danger.

  Each knew where the other was. Occasional glimpses seen through the trees were enough to ensure their paths remained close, and either could break off his hunt and help the other as needed.

  Lee pulled slightly ahead and bent his course to intercept Matt.

  "Big hill to the northwest, Matt."

  "Might be deer or elk up there. They like to bed down high up where they can watch for predators."

  "That's what I was thinking. Gets them away from the flies too. And they like the cool breezes this time of year. We could go up from two sides, catch anything that spotted one of us and decided to leave."

  Matt nodded. "You want to go in from the north while I take the south slope?"

  Lee finished drinking from his gourd and replaced the stopper. Nodding, he slipped away leaving Matt to work out his own approach to the hill.

  He found Lee waiting halfway up the slope.

  "See something?"

  "Looks like a dozen or so stag-moose, Matt, bachelor bulls I think. They know I'm here, probably know you're here too by now. Our scent will be rising ahead of us."

  "We'll stay together from here on, then. They're too dangerous to hunt alone, and we need to spot them before they see us. And a big tree is always better than a small one if they get antsy!"

  Lee grinned at Matt's comment and moved away up the hill, crouching slightly in readiness. The animals were always dangerous, but likely not as aggressive this time of year as they would become during the rut.

  One animal would be enough; just getting a carcass down the hill was a big task for two men. Lee could have the first shot, and Matt would try to put an arrow into the same animal if it didn't drop immediately.

  The small herd of bulls was noisy, making small cracking noises as antlers brushed a branch and snorting from time to time. There was also a faint musky smell, not unpleasant, indicating the animals were close ahead. Matt tensed and eased a step closer to Lee, both men now paused, taking a slow step, then he
sitating before resuming their slow advance. Up ahead the noise suddenly stopped.

  Matt felt a sudden uneasiness. "Lee! Tree!"

  Following his own advice, he swarmed up the tree he'd selected. Finally stopping some twelve feet up, he looked to the tree Lee had climbed. Just as Matt had done, Lee now braced his feet on large branches and leaned slightly back against the trunk, waiting for a shot.

  Below them the branches stirred and a huge bull stag-moose prowled into the space they'd just abandoned, head down to sniff, antlers ready to lift and kill. Others followed closely behind the massive lead animal. Matt slowly lifted his hand to get Lee's attention, then shook his head at Lee; let the big one pass, take one of the trailing animals.

  Lee nodded his understanding. Below the two men the bulls sniffed the ground. Fortunately for Lee and Matt, they had little to fear from predators in the trees so paid no attention to the branches where the two stood, feet braced.

  Lee finally picked the animal he wanted and slowly drew back his bowstring.

  Matt followed the direction the arrow pointed and selected a point of aim on the same animal. He waited for Lee's shot, concentrating only on the stag-moose. The animal was some thirty yards away from Lee and probably at least forty yards from Matt. The footing in the tree wasn't ideal, but Matt shot as soon as he heard Lee's bowstring twang.

  The young bull staggered, then plunged ahead. The rest of the herd bolted as soon as they smelled the fresh blood. Matt listened to their antlers cracking against brush as the remaining animals fled; the sounds soon died away in the forest.

  Below them the animal kicked and died. Matt waited. Lee watched and waited too, although he was less patient than Matt. The bull wasn't going anywhere.

  Matt scanned the area, looking for threats. Finding nothing near, he looked farther out. The elevation gave him a good view of the short-grass plains off to the west. Grasses here were different, not the chest-high plants that had been so dangerous before. The local varieties were more bunch-grass than the tall grasses of the east, rarely rising more than knee high here. Not tall enough to hide a large predator while still providing plenty of forage for grazers; Matt much preferred this western type of grassy plain.

  The dark colors of the horses might have escaped his attention had they been grazing, but they were trotting northwest and his eyes immediately picked up the movement. Curious, he looked behind to see what had alarmed them.

  "Lee...look over there, way out. See those horses?"

  Lee looked where Matt was pointing. It took only moments before he called back, "I see them, Matt. But we've already got plenty of meat."

  "Not thinking of hunting, Lee. Look behind them, maybe a quarter mile or so."

  Lee scanned the area behind the trotting horses before finally spotting what Matt had seen. "Matt, that looks like Tex."

  "That's what I think. But he's never going to catch those horses. I wonder what he's up to?"

  "No idea. Are you ready to climb down and dress out that bull?"

  "It should be safe enough. Let's do it."

  Matt was thoughtful and looked off to the west where they'd seen Tex. Maybe he wasn't looking for horsemeat after all.

  #

  Sal and Colin had found a huge tree only a few hundred yards northeast of the camp. A small creek flowed past the tree before joining the river a few hundred yards downstream. Beavers had constructed a dam and built their lodges in the shallow pool behind the obstruction. The large tree had been killed by the gnawing rodents but for some unknown reason they hadn't finished the task. The dead tree still stood, girdled but with the trunk still intact. There was no sign of the beavers and no recent tracks on the bank. Perhaps a predator had interrupted the construction job.

  In any case, the tree was ideal, even if felling it might prove dangerous.

  "What do you think, Sal?" The two men looked at the tree and considered how they could bring it down in the most convenient position for working later.

  "I'm thinking we use axes to deepen the notch on this side, just chopping in where the beavers already started. As soon as we're about halfway in, start cutting with the saw on the reverse side. Not deep, though. Take the cut in about a foot, leave a thick hinge for the trunk to pivot on. Then drive in wedges to finish the felling."

  "Should work, Sal. But this job is more dangerous because of the wood the beavers cut out on the sides. Use no more than two men at a time for cutting and keep the rest well back until the trunk is down. I wouldn't even tackle it but the wood's just what we're looking for to make wheels. It's big, it's already dry so it won't be likely to crack, and we can probably get all the wheel blanks we want just from this one tree."

  "Maybe so, Colin. Might need another tree, depending on knots and such. No way to tell until we start sawing."

  "I'll leave you to it, Sal. I'll be back at camp if you need me. Laz said he might take a hunting party southwest and I want to make sure there are still people on duty to defend the camp. We need the food, but I don't want him taking every man that's not working here with you when he goes hunting."

  "Makes sense. After we get the tree down we can cut wheel blanks in a day, then move them back to camp. When we’re back, we'd be working but available if you needed us."

  "Do that. Piotr is back there now, making bows for the new people. Laz will take a couple of carts with him when he leaves, the ones in the best condition. Lilia's out foraging with some of the women too. And Bear's what, about six now? He's fishing. Kid loves it, and we might get tired of fish before he gets bored with fishing!"

  "Can he swim, Colin? In case he falls in, I mean."

  "Monika taught him to swim. It's not a good idea to let him swim alone, but he's about half otter in the water. I think if we let him he'd go after some of those big catfish with that little spear he's got!"

  The two chuckled and Colin departed for the camp. On the way he saw Elizabeth and Bella. The two had deerskin bags slung over their shoulders alongside their spears and were filling the bags with material they picked from the short grasses that grew here under the trees.

  "Is that stuff edible, Elizabeth?"

  "I'm not picking it to eat, Colin. This is fluffgrass. We've got a bunch of other fluff we've picked from the cattails downstream, but I wanted to try this too. See what's best at soaking up blood."

  "Oh. That makes sense. People are going to get hurt, I suppose. Better to be prepared."

  Elizabeth looked at him. "We've also got a lot of women in camp, Colin. We'll be using this for them. Deerskin pads help, but sometimes they just aren't enough. I think if we sew some of the fluff between soft deerskin, it will work a lot better each month when they need the pads."

  "Oh. Well, you know best. I'll leave you to it."

  The two women shared a smile as Colin walked away. Men! Still clueless, and still easily embarrassed by natural female functions....

  Chapter 26

  Tex's legs burned. His lungs burned too and his eyes tried to close, but he forced himself to trot ahead. His thick tongue licked dry, cracked lips.

  A fleeting thought came and wouldn't go away. In three days I made up for months in that hospital when my body wouldn't work.

  Ahead, the horses were plodding now, strung out as the stronger kept going while the weaker hung back. It was time. Would Roberts' join-up work on these horses in the way the old trainer claimed? If not...well, it wouldn't be the first time Tex had invested work, sweat, and effort, only to get nothing in return. Some of the time he'd ridden the rough stock, some of the time he'd left the arena with nothing but bruises and aches. And finally a horse had put him into a hospital to stay, an experience that marked him, even here.

  Tex stopped, swaying. Ahead, the mare he'd decided was the alpha in this small band stood, head down and front legs braced. Tex drank the last of the water in his gourd and chewed the last piece of jerky from his pack while he watched the mare.

  Then he turned his back on the horses he'd been pursuing for the past three
days and nights and walked away, back toward the shelter he’d built. But first he needed water, and so did the horses. A bright patch of greenery a few hundred yards to the north announced the presence of a spring and Tex headed that way.

  Behind him the mare turned and looked after him.

  Tex now carried his bow and a ready arrow in his hand. The reata he'd used to force the horses onward hung by a thong attached to his belt. Footsore, nearly exhausted, he walked on, never looking back.

  Tex took time to fill his water gourd and drink but left the spring as soon as he finished. The mare was now following, no more than a hundred yards back.

  Two hours later he crested a low hill and turned to look over his back trail. For the first time in three days, cracked lips lifted in a grin. The small band of horses was following the mare, about a mile behind her.

  It was a start. Just as Monty Roberts had written, the horses had identified with the strange creature that first pursued them, then turned away.

  Now they trailed behind him, having taken time to graze and drink from the spring where Tex had refilled his water bottle. He deviated from his path long enough to arrow a young pig from a family group and cut a pork steak for his supper. That night he built a fire and ate, waking up around midnight and eating again. More of the pork, cut from a hindquarter, served for his breakfast the next morning and Tex walked on. Behind him the horses followed, refreshed by their drink and the chance to graze.

  But they weren't back to his makeshift corral yet; an attack from a predator, any number of things could still cause the horses to turn away. Time would tell.

  #

  Colin felt pleased with the way things were going. Matt and Lee had come in with meat from the stag-moose they'd killed and Laz had returned too, carts laden with meat from the creatures Tex called buffalo. Margrette now supervised the smoking operations and the tribe was still feasting on fresh meat and vegetables they’d foraged along the riverbank.