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

by Jack L Knapp

  “Sure, Matt. I’ll talk to Laz and we’ll plan on leaving just before daybreak. We might be gone for a couple of days, but I think we’ll reach the sea within a day’s travel. A day downstream, look around for a while, come straight back. Two days, maybe a little longer.”

  Matt nodded and Lee walked away.

  Lee had grown into a very confident young man, experienced and equipped to survive on this unforgiving world. Laz was almost his equal. The two were truly an asset to the tribe. Matt turned away. He had arrangements to make too.

  Chapter 39

  Laz and Lee were gone the following morning by the time Matt went for breakfast. They’d taken their horses and followed the canyon south.

  Matt spent the morning with Sal and Colin. Will and Bert, the two engineers, were explaining what they had in mind.

  “We’re going to need timbers and adobe. Limestone we’ve got, there’s plenty of it and we think the blocks are small enough to work with. We’ll begin with a foundation for each house, dig it in deep enough so it won’t heave if there’s more frost than we expect. Then join the foundations together because the houses will form a long outer wall, and if we use large limestone blocks we won’t need to mortar them in place. We don’t want the adobe or any wood touching the ground. Adobe will soften if there’s water in contact with it and wood will rot. If they were part of the foundation, we’d have to rebuild every few years.

  “We’ve decided that we’ll use adobe mortar for now, especially to seal the living quarters. If a few breezes get into the storage area it won’t be a problem. There are stacked-stone structures in Ireland and the American Southwest that used no mortar and they’re still standing after hundreds of years. It’s more work, selecting just the right stone, but the structure will last just as long.

  “Maybe we can use concrete mortar on the lower structures later on, always assuming we can heat limestone to make quicklime. Anyway, we’ll build three sides of a square of houses that face toward the cliff. They’ll share sidewalls with the house next door. You can put in shared fireplaces for now, but we’ll probably close them off as soon as we build the second-floor living quarters. Those will be built to overhang the outer walls for defensive purposes. The only openings into the houses will face the square, and the cliff forms the west side of the square with the two courtyard entrances at the north and south. Using the cliff for part of the wall means we’ll need fewer people to defend the west side. Plus we’re planning a backup system.

  “Once we build the redoubt...that’s what we’re calling the cliff dwelling...into the hollow, we can use ladders. If we ever need to abandon the houses and move into the redoubt, we pull the ladders up behind us. As long as we hold that, we’ll have the high ground and it will take an army to break in. Even so, we’ll bleed them before it happens.

  “We’ll put granaries up there for storage too, maybe even divert one of the springs so we’ll have water for the redoubt and a way to dispose of waste. But before it comes to a siege, any attacker had better bring his lunch. It’s not going to be easy to get into the square, and until they do there won’t be an entrance to any of the houses. The houses are like a castle in a way, but designed to kill slavers instead of defeating an army. There’s no reason for a real invasion, so we should be safe for at least a century.”

  Bert chimed in, “We figure to use heavy timbers to roof over the storage areas. That will be the second-story floor and we plan to fortify the living areas as we build. Loopholes facing out, murder holes in the overhang, more loopholes facing the square in case someone does manage to break in, maybe even Roman-style siege artillery. Ballistae would work.”

  “Ballistae are engines like big crossbows that throw bolts the size of spears, right?”

  “Right, Matt. We wondered if you wanted portable ones too?”

  “Portable ones?”

  “Sure. Maybe we could take a mammoth after winter gets here. There’s a lot of meat on a mammoth. It would be safer killing a buffalo with one, too. Some of those big bulls go more than a ton. We talked about it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they weigh in at three thousand pounds. Not that we’ve got anything to weigh one, of course.”

  “Of course.” Matt grinned at them. “Keep it in mind for later. Let’s get the lower level built first. I like the ideas you’ve come up with, if for no other reason than because it’s almost the same as what I had in mind.

  “You’ve got Sal’s crew for workers. Plan on putting up a few Pueblo-style ovens, hornos, for the women too. Sandra, Millie, and Lilia can tell you how they’re built if you don’t already know. It would be a good idea to get their input before you build anything. Show them where the houses will go and let them pick locations for the hornos.”

  “Furnace on the bottom, front load rear exhaust, oven space on top of the furnace?”

  “That’s it. But like I said, get their input first. They might want to build them bigger or smaller. And for sure they’ll be pissed if you put them somewhere they don’t like.”

  “Can do. We’ll talk to the men Sal assigns to do the work. But first, we think we should build emergency-level shelters. We can expand those later.”

  “You’ve got it. I’m taking a day off and Piotr’s going with me. We’ll bring in a buffalo or two for meat and start drying more for winter.”

  “Have fun, Matt. C’mon, Will, we’ve got work to do. Jawin’ ain’t gettin’ the town built!”

  Matt found Piotr and the two walked east until they reached the river. There were a few tracks, none fresh, so the two turned left and headed north. Matt was leading his horse, as yet unnamed, while Piotr walked some twenty-five yards ahead. A cart had been hitched to the horse for transporting the carcasses. If Matt’s horse was restive, well, she’d soon get used to towing the cart behind.

  Matt’s bow was slung across his back and the quiver hung at his belt; his spear was on the cart, along with jerked meat and water, but hopefully they’d not be needed. Still, it was best to be prepared; sooner or later the animals would become alarmed at the cartwheel’s squeaks and rumbles and avoid where the noise was coming from.

  The two continued upriver, Matt taking note of bends and possible hazards in the river. Only the occasional stump, carried down during past floods, presented a possible hazard. A few islands diverted some of the water flow but that didn’t appear to be a problem. So far, the river looked to be a feasible avenue for shipping goods for trade.

  They found no game along the river and Matt considered following the animal trail to the top of the canyon. There were certain to be buffalo and other animals up there, but climbing the track and then descending with the horse pulling a loaded cart didn’t appeal to him. The previous descent had been hard enough. They’d needed restraining ropes to keep the carts from running away.

  With only the two of them available, one would have to control the horse from the front and that left only one to try to check the descent. Matt decided to continue hunting upstream.

  Piotr found tracks two miles above the ford. The two followed the tracks into a dry branch canyon that led east from the river. A dozen buffalo were spread out, peacefully grazing along the canyon’s grassy bottom. The tracks had been left when the small herd went down to the river to drink.

  Matt tied the lead rope to a tree near the entrance of the side canyon. He now carried his bow ready as the two men walked silently up the canyon. Piotr found a location where they could take at least one and possibly two before the animals became alarmed.

  Selecting a young bull, Piotr looked at Matt to indicate which target he had in mind. Matt nodded and picked his own target, an older cow that appeared to be in good condition. Drawing the heavy bow, he waited for Piotr to take the shot. At the twang of Piotr’s bowstring, Matt released his own arrow. Drawing another arrow, he waited to see if it might be needed.

  Piotr’s young bull had fallen. Matt’s cow had taken a step and raised her head, so Matt launched his second arrow. Passing just beneath the cow�
�s muzzle, the arrow struck between the forelegs and passed into the animal’s chest. Matt decided the heart must have been pierced. At any rate, the cow tiredly slipped to her knees and then rolled over. The other animals grazed away deeper into the canyon, seemingly unconcerned that two of their number were bleeding out behind them.

  Matt’s third arrow, drawn automatically as soon as he’d loosed the second one, was unneeded, but he kept it in position for safety while he and Piotr approached their kills.

  Field-dressing, skinning, and quartering the carcasses took some three hours. Finally they got the meat loaded, the skins protecting the meat from dirt and flies.

  The horse was fractious, either from the smell of blood or from something off in the dusk, but finally they reached camp just after sunset. Lilia took charge of the meat while Matt led his horse to water and then picketed her where she could graze.

  Piotr pulled the empty cart to where the tribe had begun storing them along the cliff. Returning, the two ate a simple supper before heading to their beds.

  #

  Matt watched the grazing horse the next morning and noticed how she barely avoided becoming entangled in the picket line. It might be possible later to allow her to graze loose in an enclosure, but for now she was showing signs of wanting the companionship of other horses. She often stood and looked off to the canyon rim before returning to the plentiful graze; she would attempt to join other horses if he released her from the picket.

  Matt led her to water and picketed her in a new location on fresh grass. He then went to have his own breakfast

  Finished with breakfast, Matt joined the crews and helped dig the ditch where the foundation stones would be laid. Other men, supervised and aided by the two engineers, began laying the stones even as the digging progressed.

  There was no sign of Lee or Laz, but Matt thought nothing of it. The two would return when they’d finished surveying the river.

  The foundation was complete by the end of the following day and construction of the outer wall had begun. Once the square was fully enclosed except for the gates, the tribe would have a secure encampment behind the stout walls.

  Lee and Laz had still not returned by evening of the fourth day. Matt was concerned; the two should have come back by now. Riding the horses without a break for that long wasn’t a good idea, lest they develop sores on the back. Had the horses become lame, slowing their return?

  Matt brought the subject up to Lilia that afternoon.

  “I’m heading south. Lee should have been back by now.”

  “I was planning on going if you hadn’t said anything. We can leave tomorrow.”

  “I was planning on taking Piotr, Lilia.”

  “Matt, that’s my son out there. I’m coming too.”

  “OK. We’ll leave before dawn. I’ll alert Piotr and I think it might be well to take Marc too. If they’re injured we’ll need extra hands to help bring them home.”

  “I’ll be ready, Matt.”

  #

  Matt led the small party south the following morning just as first light had begun illuminating the canyon floor. Lilia followed immediately behind him and Marc brought up the rear with Piotr. All carried arrows ready on their bowstrings.

  Late that afternoon Piotr, sharp-eyed as always, spotted a large rusty stain on the sand. Calling Matt’s attention to it, he took up a guard position with Marc while Matt and Lilia studied the blotch.

  “Bloodstain. Two days old, maybe more. Horse tracks, and from the looks of them something happened here. The tracks are confused but the horses might have been running. What do you think?”

  “Lot of blood, Matt. Maybe one of the horses was wounded? The tracks lead off west and the horse was running. There are more stains by the tracks too.”

  “Let’s have a look up that branch. The horse might have gone there.”

  The four followed the tracks, now spread out. All were alert for any surprise. Half a mile ahead they found a dead horse.

  “That’s Brownie, Lee’s mare. Been dead at least two days I think. Something’s been feeding on her.”

  “Matt, that’s a bear track. Big one, too. The rest of the tracks are cat. Could be lions, or they might be saber-tooths. Think they killed Brownie?”

  “No.” Matt’s voice was grim. “They started feeding after Brownie was dead. Look at the neck, just behind the head.”

  “Arrow, Matt. That’s not one of Lee’s arrows and I don’t think it’s one of Laz’s either.”

  “It’s not. It’s not one of your arrows, is it Piotr?”

  “I never made a nock like that, Matt. Looks crude.”

  “Crude it might be, but it obviously worked. But it means that somebody else has a bow and arrows. Fairly strong one too; that arrow’s deep. Let’s see if we can get it out.”

  Fifteen minutes later Matt was examining the arrow.

  “Steel arrowhead. I’m guessing it was locally forged. What do you think?”

  “Doesn’t look like anything we’ve made. We had only salvaged steel to work with and this looks different. I think it’s locally produced.”

  “I think you’re right, Piotr.”

  Lilia and Marc had scouted the location and had gone downstream half a mile. Matt looked after them. The two had stopped to examine something on the ground but were now returning.

  “What did you find, Lilia?”

  “No horse tracks, Matt. I have no idea what happened to Laz’s horse. I found moccasin tracks from at least half a dozen men, two of them either big men or they were carrying heavy loads. I think the slavers have come back. And I think they’ve got Lee and Laz.”

  “Let’s see where they’ve gone before we decide what to do.”

  Two hours later Matt walked out of the canyon’s mouth. Ahead lay the seaway and the river’s mouth where it flowed into the sea.

  “Look at this.”

  A shallow trench had been scraped into the shore along the river, leading from the water and extending some twenty feet up the shore.

  “That mark looks like what we found along the seaway. Somebody beached a boat here. There are tracks all around, more than six men would have left. Somebody was left on guard while a detachment went upriver. At a guess, they found Lee and Laz and shot Lee’s horse with an arrow. They’ve got Laz too, otherwise he’d have come back to warn us. If they killed him we’d have found the body. No, they’ve been caught.

  “The slavers have taken them across the seaway. We can only hope they’re slaves. It’s too late to stop the raiders without crossing the seaway.

  “I’m going after them. I can’t leave until the camp is safe. But I won’t leave Lee or Laz to be slaves.”

  “Matt, it’s going to be dangerous. They’ve got bows and arrows now and somehow they’ve begun smelting iron. They’ve got metal arrowheads.”

  “I know. It doesn’t matter. A flint or obsidian arrowhead can kill a man just as dead, and we’ve used them to kill buffalo. Bears too, and anything that kills one of those big bears will kill a slaver. Putting the arrow into a man is what counts, not what the arrowhead is made of.

  “I figure two weeks at most before I’ll be ready. I’ll want a small party, no more than four men. We’ll go on foot, hide during the day, travel by night. I’m tired of waiting for the slave-takers to raid us.

  “This time, I’m taking the fight to them.”

  The Adventure continues in

  Home

  Book three of the Darwin’s World Series

  Combat Wizard is the first book in the Wizards Trilogy. It’s available through Amazon as an ebook and through CreateSpace as a print edition.

  Combat Wizard, an Excerpt: Chapter 1

  The patrol had been routine, at least in the beginning.

  I wondered if I was becoming careless? Careless gets people killed.

  Had I approached too close to that box before I acted? I don’t know. There’s no way I can know. The explosion happened and men died.

  For most people, getting blo
wn up is the worst thing that can happen. It’s only the beginning for me. The explosions haven’t injured me, at least so far. Not physically, anyway.

  The nightmares are worse. The explosion only happened once, but the nightmares play out again and again. There is no answer when I wonder if there was something I might have done.

  Casualties; such a detached, bloodless word. There’s none of the fear and agony and hate, none of the emotions men feel when an IED blows. Junior officers learn the term because it’s part of the trade of soldiering. Maybe it helps. You end up with too many scars on your feelings if you can’t learn to be dispassionate.

  The casualties are really dead and maimed men and women, barely more than kids. They’re soldiers one moment, then they’re broken. They’re changed from people vibrant with life and a future to casualties, things with no future, or one that’s changed out of recognition.

  The details are often unclear. The bodies are covered, the outlines blurred, even the blood is hidden. The thick coating of dust from the explosion rains down on everyone, the casualties and the ones who escaped.

  Maybe if I could call them casualties too, think of them in that dispassionate way, but I can’t.

  The things that visit my nightmares aren’t ‘casualties’. They’re people, and I was in command. I let them get killed. I should have been able to do more.

  #

  The mission began with a briefing session even though we’d done it, something like it, a hundred times before. But if there’s time, we always begin by briefing the troops. Everyone involved needs to know why we’re going out and what we hope to accomplish.