by Jack L Knapp
I swapped the bow for my spear, secured my snowshoes with the heel strap, then clumped out to where he pawed at the snow. Cold predator eyes glared as I drew back and drove the spear into his chest as hard as I could. I then went around to each of the other wolves and gave them the same treatment.
Tough animal; he’d taken my arrow in the ribs and most of it had gone all the way through, but he still kept trying to get up and attack.
We were all breathing hard. “Take a minute to catch your breath. This may be all of them, but maybe not. We can wait, we’re not going to find a better defensive place than this.”
“Matt, should we build up the snow fence, make it higher?”
“I doubt it’s worth the effort, Sandra. If there were more of them they’d have been here by now. We’re just making absolutely sure.
“We’ll leave the carcasses for any others that might follow us. I want the skins though; they’ll be good linings for the hoods of our coats. Wolf fur doesn’t ice up, at least not as quick as other furs. If there’s enough fur left after the hoods are finished we’ll use it for hats. Russians downtime made warm fur hats and we can do the same.”
I looked at the forequarter I’d used for bait, but it was too mangled to salvage.
The others had each begun skinning a wolf, so I skinned the big alpha male. I wanted as much fur as possible, so I started with cuts around each leg just above the paws. From there, I extended the cuts up the legs, peeling back the skin as I went. A final long cut from the lower jaw to the genitals connected the leg cuts; the big knife worked, but it wasn’t the best tool for the job.
I wiped the knife down with snow, then dried it by wiping it on my deerskin trousers before putting it away. It would need a touch-up with a stone when there was time.
For making the fine cuts around the wolf’s head, I used a sharp flake of obsidian. Nothing short of a dedicated skinning knife would have worked as well. No dummies, our ancestors; they had known just how effective flaked tools could be. I had only rediscovered some of their ancient knowledge.
The fresh skins were lashed on top of the sleds and we left the wolf carcasses on the snow after salvaging our arrows. Other wolves, maybe something else, would find the meat, and having it available might keep the scavengers from finding the cache in the snow house.
#
We made the rest of the trip without incident. The meat we hung from the nearest tree, high enough that not even one of the giant bears was going to get it. We thawed, then sliced up a forequarter for fresh meat that night.
Laz, Lee and I left the next morning to collect the cached meat and hides. We loaded everything on the big sled and headed straight for the mine. It took us the best part of a day to get there and deliver the frozen meat to the cooks.
I had met Colin, the head cook, when I first dropped off a load of meat. I spoke to him while his helpers unloaded some of the meant from the sled.
“Is Robert still here?”
“No. He left some time ago. There’s a different foreman now, and I’m not sure whether he wants to continue the deal that Robert made with you. I told him about it, but he didn’t seem interested. He wants to concentrate on producing ore, so I doubt he’ll provide help for you to transport meat.”
“It’s just as well. We lost René a while back, a hunting injury that went septic. Hunting’s gotten harder too. Most of the game has moved south. Is there any chance I can get a cooking pot in exchange for this load?”
“I don’t see why not. Stuff breaks, and when it does we end up tossing it on a pile until someone can send it back. The mine supervisor doesn’t care. For now, I’ve got two old pots and a fry-pan if you can use them. The pots are steel, dented but usable, and the fry-pan is cast iron. If that’s what you’re looking for.”
“Perfect. Your share of the meat’s unloaded, so if you’ve got them ready….”
“We used the fry-pan and one of the pots this morning. I don’t think they’ve been washed yet.”
“Not a problem. We’ll take them now and clean them later. I want to get started before we lose any more time.”
We loaded the fry-pan and cooking pots, then and moved off, traveling as fast as we could tow the much-lighter sled. The sun went down before we got back, but the moon on the snow gave enough light, so we pushed on.
We hung the remaining meat in the tree, then I scrubbed out the used pot and fry-pan with snow before taking them inside the cabin.
The women were happy to see the pots. The three of us were tired from the trip, so we went to sleep as soon as possible, taking time only to stand the sled on end and bring weapons and the skins from the cache inside. I was soon nodding off, too tired to eat.
I never heard the women when they banked the fire and joined us on our beds.
Chapter 29
I woke up the next morning pleasantly spooned into Lilia’s back. She had to notice my interest, but didn’t make any move to escape.
Well, well! Things were looking up.
I’m sure a part of my morning interest had to do with the need to visit the outdoors, so I pulled on my deerskins while shivering in the cold cabin. I took the time to poke the banked embers in the fireplace and add a stick of firewood, then put my parka on, grabbed my weapons and headed outside.
I took care of my morning needs and scraped snow over the evidence, then just enjoyed being outside. The inside of the cabin was close and not particularly fresh-smelling, what with seven people sleeping there. Not to mention assorted skins and other stored things.
The morning was cold and silent except for the slight breeze. Dark clouds dominated the northern sky. Sensible animals were probably denned up somewhere, keeping warm.
We needed guide ropes before more snow arrived, and I had just the thing. I stretched the first rope from the cabin door straight ahead to the nearest tree. A second rope ran between two trees so that it lay across the first rope. Some of my thinner string lashed the two tightly together. Now, if we had to go outside after dark or during a snowstorm, the guide ropes might keep us alive. Just follow the ropes when you go out, do what you have to do, then follow the ropes back to the door. Simple, but necessary; if I’d had more rope, I would have stretched it in a circle around the cabin to keep anyone from wandering away during low visibility. But I had used all the available rope, and finding more fibers wasn’t an option now. I’d get some ropes back as we ate the meat we’d hung in the trees, but I’d need to be careful with my supply until I could make more.
I also carried several armloads of wood from the stacks, laying it in the cleared space by the door where it would be easy to reach.
Finished, I went back inside and replaced the locking bar. This was routine now; secure the bar, place my weapons by the door where I could find them even in the dark, hang the parka on a peg, then add another stick to the small blaze now going in the fireplace.
#
It was time to sample Lilia’s latest creation, ‘eternal soup’. She began with water fresh from the spring, dipped through a hole chopped in the ice. That went into the largest of the pots I’d traded for, then she swung the grate over the fire and set the pot into position. As soon as the water began to boil, she added tubers gathered during the summer. Whatever vegetables we had that she thought might taste good in soup, those went in too. Toss in several chunks of meat, let the whole thing begin to simmer. Add salt.
We could pour in another gourd of water periodically and restock the pot with ingredients when the level got low. After supper, when the pot was nearly empty, we’d finish off what was left, clean the pot, and start the process over with different ingredients. The meat was usually the same, but changing the vegetables she put in gave us a little variety.
The soup was heating now, but the embers had kept it warm overnight. I dipped a gourd in and sampled the concoction, really more stew than soup. It was just what I needed after working outside in the cold.
The fireplace had a built-in rack that could be swiveled in or
out, and that’s where the soup pot sat. There was a loaf of bread waiting beside the fireplace on a table I’d made.
The bread had been baked weeks before, then left in the lean-to to freeze. One of the women had brought the loaf inside the day before and it was now thawed; not fresh, but still good. Slicing a thick chunk took only a few moments and I laid my slice carefully by the soup pot for toasting.
There was honey in a pot with a honey-dripper. Millie had made the honey-pot and I’d carved the honey dripper myself; the honey came from the second bee tree we’d raided. I let a small amount drip onto my warmed bread and took a bite. Wonderful!
I enjoyed my breakfast while waiting for the others to stir. The Futurists had provided three chairs, but they weren’t enough so we had made seats consisting of camel-leather slings and deerskin cushions, really only bags stuffed with grass. The slings consisted of leather suspended from a simple rectangular frame, just small branches tied together. Wrap the leather around the top of the frame, stitch it to hold it in place, allow the rest of the leather to hang naturally in a curve that ended several feet or so in front. Place the cushion on the loose end of the leather, then sit down. Weight held the leather in place, and the sling gave a comfortable back support to lean against.
This was half of a downtime sling chair; in time, I’d add the other half for greater comfort.
Sitting in the comfortable ‘chair’ I’d made and eating food I’d acquired was very satisfying. Such pleasures had been rare downtime. Except for the cabin and the outdoor oven, we’d made most of the other things we used in our home.
The leather for the sling-chair had been tanned using brains from small animals. Smoking the tanned leather finished the job. It had been a smelly and labor-intensive task, but the end product would last for years.
I had cut the branches and lashed the frame together, while Lilia had added the back-support. The sling-chair had also been her idea, but I was happy to take advantage of it. I leaned back against the leather and enjoyed the last of my honey bread before licking my fingers clean.
I lazily thought about how I could combine another frame piece with this, stitch the loose end of the leather sling to it, then tie the two frames together in an ‘X’. Downtime chairs used a metal pivot point where the two frames crossed, but we could use loops of rope instead. The chairs wouldn’t need to fold up in the way that downtime chairs did.
Coffee or a cup of tea would have been a nice addition to my breakfast. Maybe my descendants would someday be able to taste those. Someday.
Sandra had promised a treat today; I wondered what she had in mind.
A heavy gust of wind shook the shutters over the window and I was glad I’d packed grass around the shutters. The cabin wasn’t airtight, but it kept the worst of the weather outside.
A small snowdrift frequently collected alongside the door but I’d decided we could live with that. Laz had cleared snow away from the door and had also shoveled a path to the woodpiles. I had stacked the firewood I’d brought up in one of the areas he’d cleared.
The spring was a short distance in front of the lean-to's door, and Lee had cleared a path between them. We chopped the ice away each morning. Water ran out from the spring in a small rivulet, but we preferred to dip directly from the small pool that formed where the spring water emerged.
It took work to keep the paths cleared, but we had little else to do. Keep the track cleared, bring in supplies from the lean-to or cut meat from the quarters hanging from the trees, carry in an armload of firewood. Then just enjoy the results of the work we’d done during the summer and fall.
Sandra’s treat turned out to be a variation of the ‘tea’ she’d made before. She dipped boiling water from the second pot, then added a mixture of berries and grapes, collected and dried during the summer. Simple; let the whole thing brew for a moment, then mix in a bit of honey for additional sweetening. It was quick, nourishing, and hot to take the chill off.
Might I be able to ferment something like this? Not now, but perhaps next year if we could gather enough fruit? A little experimentation might provide something drinkable!
Alcohol would also be useful to clean wounds. René had fallen victim not to claws, but to the microbes that lived on those claws.
#
Laz and Cindy asked if the two of them could visit their families in Robert’s tribe. I agreed, but had concerns about their safety. They were not quite the woods-wise experienced travelers that I was, or for that matter Lee and Lilia were.
Lee quickly volunteered to accompany them, so I gave permission. They packed and set off early the next morning.
The cabin seemed almost empty with three people gone. But there were things that still needed doing, so my days stayed busy.
As it happened, so did my nights. Lilia left me in no doubt as to what she wanted that first night, and I happily obliged her. Twice. But there would be no third time. Sometime during the night, Lilia got up and Sandra took her place. I don’t know how they worked out the rotation, but as a mere male the ways of women are beyond my understanding; Fun, though.
It was puzzling, but entertaining. Lilia might have visited ‘my’ sleeping pad more than Sandra or Millie, but in the dark I wasn’t sure. It happened, I enjoyed the differences, and tried not to disappoint anyone.
I found myself eating more, but still I lost weight during the week the other three were gone! I wondered briefly what would happen to this new arrangement when they came back.
They returned a week later. They brought back a different kind of bread that had been baked by someone in Robert’s tribe, and they also brought Robert himself.
“Welcome, Robert! I’m glad to see you’re doing well. How are things going?”
“We’re doing fine, Matt. We’ve made more spears like the one you gave me when René died. We also went ahead with the bow-making project. Your ideas spurred a lot of creativity.
“We made several hunting trips after I quit the mine and brought back a lot of meat. We’ve been eating well, and we still have a good supply to last the rest of the winter.
“Anyway, I got a lot of good ideas when I was talking to you and looking over your equipment. Our bows aren’t as powerful as yours but there are more of us, so we’ve been very successful. But I didn’t just come by for a visit. I have an idea I’d like to talk over with you.”
“Sure. Make yourself comfortable, grab a gourd of soup, and I’ll make you some of our berry tea. You’ll like this!”
I got him one of the spoons I’d carved and a gourd of the soup; he was quite appreciative when he tasted it. I toasted a slab of bread and dripped honey on it while he ate. He finished the first bowl and asked if he could have a second, so I got him another bowlful, then added more meat and vegetables to the pot. I topped off the mix with water and let it cook.
Lilia was the master soup chef, but all of us helped. Soup was available whenever you wanted it, plus there would be a slice of meat, bread, and the berry tea. Honey we reserved for breakfast and sweetening the tea. We might have to cut back later, but for now we were eating well.
“So tell me what you’ve been thinking about, Robert.”
“Are you still planning on moving?”
“I am. The cabin has given us shelter, but the problems haven’t gone away. It’s not really defensible, and there’s not really enough room for all of us. There’s also no arrangement for sanitation. The lean-to helps, but it’s not enough. And there are still the guards to deal with.
“They don’t like us and they’re envious. We’ve got things they’d like to have, so at some point I expect they’ll get up the nerve to raid us. Even if they don’t care about the things we’ve made, they’ll want the women. We can’t defend ourselves and also forage for food if we’re under attack. We’re also too few to spare someone to watch for raiders while the rest of us work.”
“I think you’re right about the guards, Matt. They would have raided you already, but they lost enough men to make them
cautious. Still, they’ll forget the losses eventually and just start thinking about the women. The mine bosses won’t be able to control them.
“I expect they’ll be coming as soon as the weather improves, maybe not right away but after the snow melts and travel is easier. They don’t like to work, and I expect it will be too muddy to travel for a while after snowmelt, so that gives you a little more time to prepare.”
“I’m not sure if there’s enough drainage to get rid of all this snow, Robert. I’m afraid of flooding. This area is pretty flat and that small stream is simply not big enough to carry all the meltwater away. The snow would have to melt very slowly for that stream to not overflow.”
“Do you think much of the water will sink into the ground?”
“I doubt it. The ground is frozen, and the snow will melt before the ground thaws. There’s no place for the water to go.”
“Good point, Matt. But I didn't see any evidence of flooding when I worked at the mine. There’s nothing to indicate there's been high water near our camp, either. We’re down in a protected valley that keeps some of the wind and snow away, so it's not as deep over there.
"Did you see anything to make you think that floods are a problem here?”
“No, but this area may not usually get this much snow, or maybe it melts slower than I expect; I just don’t know. But I’m worried. It’s likely that the glaciers up north aren’t gone yet. They might extend south for a season or two, retreat, and keep that cycle going for years. Lilia told me that some winters are hard where she lived, some are easier. We don’t have enough experience to know if this is just an unusually heavy winter or if it’s something to do with the glaciers.
“This snow may not all melt during the spring. For that matter, if this is an extension of the glacier ice instead of just a seasonal snowfall, the snow might not melt at all this year.”
