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Bladefoot

Page 10

by David Pratt


  Half an hour later, the Thescelosaurus herd slowed down. They were tired again and being woken from their sleep so suddenly and chased by Troodons had taken its toll on them. They became weary, looking for a place to crash out. Being small in the Late Cretaceous meant that you were always susceptible to attack. The herd began to settle; only more closely together this time with more sentries on the look-out. They knew that their enemies wouldn’t give up easily. And they were right.

  Bladefoot and his family had tracked them into a small gorge. The Troodons had simply walked after their prey, saving energy for another hit. Bladefoot had seen the gully up ahead and made sure that the Thescelosaurus herd would find their way here. Soon the Troodons split up again. Intelligence was their main weapon. Teeth and claws couldn’t compete. To Bladefoot and his species, his natural sets of weapons were only secondary.

  This time Olla and Serena leapt towards the Thescelosaurus herd, scaring them into running again. Once again, the herd staggered to its feet with the sound of alarm calls. They groaned at being forced to move again, but with pursuing predators they didn’t have much choice.

  Olla and Serena’s job was to stampede the herd down the gully, where the male Troodons could flank them on each side. Olla’s jaws snapped at the Thescelosaurus while Rick flanked the herd on the right side. Bladefoot still had to be careful not to break his delicate toe bones on the rocks. A sprained ankle could be a death sentence! He really wanted to make a kill tonight and every other night when his family needed to feed.

  From his position on the right gully wall, he leapt onto the back of a male Thescelosaurus down below. Bladefoot unleashed his sickle-toe claws and talons to hold onto the bucking Thescelosaurus. Olla reacted quickly and she sank her teeth into the prey’s left flank. Their toe claws work like switch-blade knives of the twenty-first century and soon the Thescelosaurus is quick to succumb to shock and blood loss.

  Meanwhile, another Thescelosaurus lost its footing in the gully and fell. Before it could get back up, Serena and Rick had pounced. The young Troodons are quick to disembowel their new prey, successfully making their first large kill. As the prey herd scattered, the Troodons settled down to feed. That’s what Bladefoot liked about hunting at night: no competition from other hunters! The young Troodons squabbled about who got the best parts of the carcasses. The adults however were a bit more civilised. Bladefoot’s authority quickly dispelled any quarrels. As their bellies filled their anxieties seemed to be over, for the moment. Thescelosaurus were the only numerous prey left in the area. Rather than chasing down mammals, the Troodons could switch diets and go for dinosaur meat. As long as they had their prey, the Troodons would pull through the drought. It seemed that Bladefoot’s worries had soothed.

  A week later, the Troodon family were resting. Once again they’d been hunting Thescelosaurus during the night and had made another kill. Indeed working together, the Troodons were effective predators.

  While the T.Rexes relied on brute strength, power and teeth, these methods were old and primitive even if they were brutal. The Troodons had come into the food chain with new weapons. They hadn’t just used teeth and claws; they’d used their smarts too. As their prey weren’t as bright, any quarry stood no chance.

  His family slept and Bladefoot rolled over to get some more rest. He wanted to conserve all his energy in going on another hunt tonight. He didn’t notice that the air was becoming more humid and storm clouds had gathered. Bladefoot then felt something touch him. He lazily opened his eyes. He felt something on him again, and then again and again. He raised his head to see what was touching him. All around him his family were starting to stir. Bladefoot’s plumage felt wet, then he realised the obvious. The monsoon had arrived!

  The skies lit up with lightning and Bladefoot remembered how dangerous a monsoon storm could be from his experiences alone on the fern prairie. Flashbacks of the stampeding Torosaurus entered his mind, even though the event happened over a year ago. The rain was starting to come down and the dark clouds had blotted out the sun. The lightning echoed through the skies, like the roar of an angry giant. The wind swept through the parched land at 150 miles per hour, almost blowing away the Troodons who were now fleeing from their beds amongst the rocky outcrop. Then the torrential downpour came and before the Troodons knew where they were, every gully, stream or river was quickly filling and overflowing. ‘We have to get to higher ground with shelter.’ Bladefoot quickly taught his children. Olla couldn’t agree more with him as the rising waters were sweeping down from the highlands.

  Soon the Troodons were caught up in a flash flood. They tried desperately to get to safety but all they seemed to find were more watery conditions. ‘We must try to avoid very deep water!’ Bladefoot cried out. Suddenly, water rushed down from an above cliff face and before any of the Troodons had time to react, they were swept up in the silt water. They tried to use their limbs to swim through it, trying to get back to any form of dry land. But the flash flood had swept them into a river that was filled with giant crocodiles!

  As they gasped for air at the surface, Bladefoot tried to look for anything that he could climb out onto. He feared water: water meant aquatic predators! As the waves splashed his face, he tried desperately to look around in the dark storm. The currents forced him back underwater and Bladefoot had no choice but to literally either sink or swim!

  As his head broke the surface again he caught a brief glimpse of Olla and Serena climbing up the steep river bank. But Rick was no-where to be seen. Bladefoot tried to call out to his son but water rushed down his windpipe. Bladefoot saw a downed tree floating in the turbulent waters. This tree was a large redwood that had become dislodged in the flash flood and its trunk was wide enough for him to scramble on. As Bladefoot climbed aboard, he found Rick clinging on for dead life amongst the dead, leafless branches and now they were being surrounded by Deinosuchus’. These were younger crocs only around sixteen feet long, half the size of the adults, but dangerous nonetheless. Bladefoot tried flashing his claws at the giant crocodiles and screeched at them to protect his son but the giant crocs were not intimidated. Both went underwater and Bladefoot tried to scan the river to see their positions. Suddenly, one of the young Deinosuchus attacked and Bladefoot was sent tumbling overboard! ‘Father! No!’ Rick cried out in terror! From the river bank, all Olla and Serena could do was look on in horror…….

  Underwater was a strange, horrifying place for Bladefoot. He’d survived the initial ambush and was quick to kick with his legs to get back to surface. During his peril, Bladefoot took the time if only for a few seconds to view the world down here. Water plants grew on the river bed and shoals of fish swam in and out of them in synchronicity.

  Then Bladefoot saw the oncoming young Deinosuchus. The giant croc charged him with a sweep of its tail but Bladefoot kicked his legs upwards to the surface. As he did, he slashed down on the young Deinosuchus in some sort of attempt to wound it. But a Troodon’s claws did nothing against a crocodile’s body armour. Then he burst through the surface, clawing his way back onto the fallen tree. Bladefoot didn’t have time to look around for Rick. The young Deinosuchus snapped at Bladefoot again, trying to tilt the log down so Bladefoot would fall into the giant croc’s jaws.

  As Bladefoot scrabbled to keep his footing, something seized the young Deinosuchus in the murky waters. Bladefoot saw the giant croc’s pupils widen in pain. An adult Deinosuchus then surfaced with the youngster in its jaws. Then Bladefoot remembered how crocodiles were cannibals, even the giant ones. The second young Deinosuchus briefed looked on in shock and then turned and swam away.

  Rick had leapt onto the shore while his father had been dunked underwater. He’d seen his chance when the river turned and now he was jumping up the rocky bank face as the female Troodons had now finally caught up with the floundering males. Tired, cold and soaked, Rick reached his mother and sister glad more than ever to see them.

  The monsoon still pelted down around the Troodons. In the poor visibili
ty, the Troodons looked for Bladefoot but they couldn’t spot him! Maybe the raging river had taken him. Rick had briefly seen the giant crocs and was anxious if one of them had eaten his Dad.

  Then they saw Bladefoot jump out of nowhere onto the muddy bank and tried to climb the treacherous slope. While Olla and Serena watched, they thought they could do little to help their alpha male. But Rick had other ideas, taking a deep breath and ran down towards his struggling father. ‘Rick what are you doing?’ His mother screeched in protest.

  Rick slid down towards Bladefoot and quickly positioned himself behind him, pushing Bladefoot up to the stable higher ground. Rick used all his might and his strength to help his father to safety. But as Bladefoot reached the females, the bank gave way and Rick was caught in a mudslide! ‘Rick no!’ The Troodons screamed as Rick tried unsuccessfully to claw his way back up the mud. Then, the large Deinosuchus came back. As the mud came down into the river, the giant croc snatched the panicking Rick in its bone crushing jaws! ‘Rick! Rick no! My son!’ Bladefoot and the females could do nothing as Rick was dragged underwater. No one could save Rick now.

  Chapter 13

  This is how it feels to be Bladefoot; you feel that your spirit had left your body. The fact was simple: his son was dead. Rick had sacrificed his life to save Bladefoot. Bladefoot had lived, Rick had died. That’s just the way it was. Bladefoot and Olla both felt that they’d lost their battle to reproduce and ensure the survival of the next generation. Of course they remembered that Serena had survived the flash flood. Serena was now the sole survivor of an original clutch of twenty four eggs. Rick’s death had hit Bladefoot the hardest. At least with Rick, Bladefoot had another male to bond with and pass on his teachings. Now that was gone. Bladefoot knew how close Olla and Serena were. Bladefoot would now concentrate on getting Serena to the stage where she could survive on her own.

  Rick’s death had shown Bladefoot and Olla how many mistakes they had made as first time parents. From leaving the nest for a few minutes, putting all their faith in Rick, not sheltering from the storm before it hit, Bladefoot’s list of errors could go on and on.

  But next year everything would be correctable. They could better protect their nest and get all the chicks to adulthood. Bladefoot decided that he would name all his male chicks Rick, with the appropriate number of course, to honour his first born son’s death because Rick was a hero and he deserved nothing less. Olla would approve. Bladefoot hoped that Rick’s memory would survive in Serena’s mind to.

  Bladefoot would have little time to grieve for Rick. This was a savage, uncertain world and each day the Troodons had to brave its dangers. It was a burden that Bladefoot, Olla and Serena had to learn to accept. The Troodons did not feel fear, they could not. Fear was an irrational weakness. Bladefoot and the females would never forget Rick’s sacrifice. The night would be the realm of Bladefoot and the day was a time of rest.

  Although the monsoon had brought death to Rick the young male Troodon in the form of a flash flood, it had also given life to the parched land. The plants and trees had soaked up the water in the volcanic soil and the land had gone from barren to green and lush. The insects had returned. The herds of plant eating dinosaurs had come back. The land was just the way it was before the disaster. To a visitor it would seem like there hadn’t been a drought.

  The Troodon family, what was left of it, was resting amongst the flowering bushes with nothing to fear from flash floods for today at least. Bladefoot snoozed in the afternoon heat, looking forward to hunting mammals again. Chasing the furballs seemed easier than going after Thescelosaurus, they were always more numerous and didn’t fight back.

  Bladefoot’s thoughts dwelled on Rick’s death. He felt sad for his dead son, wondering what could have been if only he hadn’t sacrificed himself. Then again, Rick could be lying here now and Bladefoot could’ve been killed that day. Bladefoot felt like he had a great debt to his son, which would never be paid. Naming all his next male chicks Rick was one way to honour him. Bladefoot had been having nightmares about the raging river and the killer croc. But as the days went by Bladefoot’s grief had lessened. Dinosaur bereavement never lasted very long. In time, Bladefoot’s period for mourning would come and go, and then things would go back to normal. More days would need to be survived so Bladefoot and Olla could breed again. Serena was now the most important member of the Troodon family for she was the only youngster her parents had left. Bladefoot tried to wrestle his grief for Rick out of his dreams as he slept, and then, a loud bellow almost deafened the Troodons…..

  ‘What now?’ Bladefoot was irritated that his sleep was interrupted. He would never be at peace with this land, even when he was trying to rest. He raised his head and saw that damn noisy, smelly Triceratops herd out in a clearing. With all the ferns that had re-grown, those browsers had come back. The Troodons watched them out in the open.

  They had a new herd leader, Rumble, who patrolled the herd keeping any younger males in line. The females grazed, gorging themselves on any greenery. The juvenile Triceratopses play-fought but one day they would be using their horns for real combat, whether against a T.Rex, or in the case of the juvenile males would be squaring off with one another for the right to mate. One of the juveniles tried to charge the Troodons, testing its courage against the small predators. The Troodons moved off deeper into the forest borders while the juvenile Triceratops was ushered away by a female.

  Bladefoot was annoyed about walking off from a little volatile herbivore but didn’t settle down again very far. All the Troodons knew that where there were herbivores, predators were never far away. Bladefoot settled back down, watching the Triceratopses as they continued to stuff their horny beaks full of foliage. The females were pretty quick to get back to sleep and Bladefoot let them rest. But he continued to watch the behemoths. Besides, Bladefoot couldn’t sleep through the roars/bellows they were making anyway.

  Suddenly, the Triceratopses became more anxious in what seemed to be a spilt second. ‘Aha. This could be interesting.’ Bladefoot pricked up his ears. And then, Thunder Blade the adult female T.Rex ambushed the Triceratops herd from the tree cover. Thunder Blade charged the herd, looking to pick off one of the sick ones with Stan in tow. Thunder Blade had expected the Triceratopses to panic and run and so did Bladefoot. Both the female Troodons were awake now to watch the action! Even Sky Rider was circling again, looking to marvel at this combat of nature.

  But by the hunter’s surprise, the Triceratops herd did not attempt to flee. Instead the females had reacted quickly, not only turning to face their attackers but were quick to form a protective circle around the juveniles. Thunder Blade and Stan were now faced with a barrage of horns and neither one of them were prepared to take the first bite. Thunder Blade flanked the herd, looking for signs of weakness or any breaches in the Triceratopses’ wall so she could snatch a juvenile. Stan continued to snap his jaws and roar at the herd, trying to distract them and keep their attention away from Thunder Blade. In the background, the two T.Rex chicks looked on. They’d grown quickly during the drought, with their parents ambushing many dinosaurs at the drying out waterhole. But now the rains were back and the prey was dispersed.

  In the confusion, a juvenile Triceratops had become separated and cried out a distress call in the clearing. The noise was picked up by Stan, who turned and saw the troubled youngster. Turning away from the herd, he quickly raced over to what seemed to be an easy meal. The juvenile Triceratops turned to run, but was quickly knocked down with a sweep of Stan’s head. The juvenile Triceratops cried out in terror as Stan lowered his jaws at his dinner.

  But before Stan could make the final blow, something slammed into him from the side as if from nowhere! It was Rumble, the dominant male Triceratops, who too had become separated in the panic. Rumble was not going to allow this male T.Rex to kill a youngster of his species. Too few of them were hatching because of the volcanic activity affecting dinosaur eggshells so every baby Triceratops was worth its weight in gol
d, even if the juvenile was not his own. Rumble’s brow horns skewered Stan, who bellowed in agony as his body went into spasms as he stood. Rumble’s horns had pierced his lungs and now Stan was being forced to choke on his own blood from internal bleeding. Rumble shook his head free and Stan’s body crashed to the ground……

  Thunder Blade spun round at the noise and saw what had happened. Stan had been killed! Rumble the male Triceratops stood over his body roaring in victory. Thunder Blade turned away from the herd to confront Rumble. Normally she would have backed down in such a dangerous situation, but Rumble was between herself and the two T.Rex chicks who had watched in horror as their father was killed. Thunder Blade felt anger! Her mate had been killed before she could’ve used him for all his breeding potential and now she would have to work harder to find food for her chicks. This male Triceratops had screwed up everything and now she was going to unload on the arrogant herbivore.

  ‘YOU WILL DIE TODAY, INSOLENT HORNED FACE!’ Thunder Blade charged to confront Rumble. ‘IF ANYONE’S GOING TO DIE TODAY IT’S YOU, NASTY LITTLE PREDATOR!’ Rumble lowered his horns, preparing for combat once again. As Rumble and Thunder Blade strafed one another, the herd didn’t hesitate to bolt away, leaving Rumble to face the T.Rex.

 

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