Chapter 1

It all happened because I broke my leg. I was leading the first hunt of the season when it happened, so I had already spent nearly four months in the cave. My leg kept me inside for almost another month, by which time I was going nuts.

I had led a hunt at the end of the previous year, but I was surprised when dad called me over and told me I would lead the first hunt of the new season. We hadn’t eaten fresh meat all winter except the occasional rabbit, so the first hunt was vital for our survival. It was a singular honour to be asked to lead it. My older brother Abel was very unhappy that I had been chosen.

The problem is, as dad explained to both of us, Abel is easily distracted. “You’re a wonderful tracker, son. Later on, you will lead many hunts but this first one needs the care and attention of Caleb.” I’m Caleb, as you might have guessed.

Dad would have preferred to lead himself, but his swollen joints had been particularly painful all winter and he wanted several days basking in sunlight to ease his suffering. He did call on Adam Tribe, our usual hunting partner. Their rallying call is ‘Tribe’ while ours is ‘Clan’. Outside the valley I would be called Caleb Clan.

Adam agreed to let me lead although I’m sure he and dad had a private word for him to keep an eye on my performance. We set out at first light and had immediate success when we found a full-grown stag more concerned with lust than safety. He was ready to start a harem of his own which distracted him. I believe I could have walked up and slapped him on the rump before he noticed I was there.

We used his inattention to hit him with two disabling javelins, one in the shoulder and one in the rump. It is difficult to make a telling shot on the rump because of the density of muscle, but Adam is a man at the height of his strength. I hit the shoulder which earned me praise. The stag, limping and bleeding, set off with us following at a safe distance until he had weakened from the wounds.

When I signalled to move in, we had travelled into the area where our girls were gathering fresh herbs, so we had an admiring audience. That was when things began to go wrong. Abel was enamoured of Belle Tribe, and he became almost as distracted by lust as the stag had been. A wounded, scared and angry stag needs to be carefully watched.

Abel’s inattention let our prey spot an opening and he charged for it. The sensible thing would have been to let him go, regroup and follow him until we could trap him again. I was angry with Abel and conscious of the importance of making the kill, so I stood in the gap with the butt of my spear in the ground. As the stag approached, I held the tip so he would run onto it. It worked like magic. My spear entered just under his chin and his momentum carried him forwards until it pierced his brain.

He was, I’m sure, already dead when the shaft of the spear broke, and a ton of stag crashed into me. Fortunately, Adam had enough experience to straighten my leg and bind it between two pieces of wood. Back at the cave, I was inspected by my mother and grandmother and pronounced all right. A cup of the herbal drink dad uses to ease the pain of his joints sent me to sleep.

It was the smell of roasting fresh meat that woke me. All the members of the Clan and Tribe families were gathered round the blaze that was the source of the enticing smells. When I looked up, it was into the smiling face of Belle. She rose from her knees where she had been wiping my brow with a damp cloth and announced my return to the living.

A moment later she brought back a trencher with the stag’s testicles, the most coveted part of the beast and normally reserved for a tribal elder. It was my reward for a successful hunt and a recognition that my broken leg was not my fault.

The pain in my leg had become a dull ache and I could perfectly well have fed myself, but when the prettiest girl in the valley is sitting beside you offering to feed you using her little, perfect fingers, I was not going to object. Abel was sitting in the corner furthest from the fire, but I could feel his malevolence like a gale.

“You were so brave, Caleb,” Belle whispered so close to my ear that I could feel her breath. “Daddy is leading a hunt outside the valley later in the summer and he wants you to be his second in command.” You don’t really expect me to confess that if I had been more patient, we would have killed the stag without me having a broken leg as a memento?

I had played with girls all my life, of course, and there are few secrets in a cave, but this private conversation with Belle was something quite different. Tweaking a nipple or cupping a pussy in the course of a wrestling match is impersonal – I’ve been as free with my sisters as with girls from the other family.

Sitting here with Belle is less sexual but much more erotic. As she fed me, my prick began to rise as it rarely did during our rough and tumble games. I wanted to talk to her, to ask her if she liked me and how she was feeling, but nothing would come out – I was struck dumb.

“It’s so noisy in here,” she sighed. “I wish we could be alone somewhere so we could really talk.” Count me in! I thought, although the words didn’t reach my mouth. “Perhaps in a day or two I can get help to sit outside and then you could come and visit. Only if you want to, of course, and if you can get away after your chores are done.” Now I had found my voice, I couldn’t shut up. I would have continued spouting nonsense if my dad’s voice hadn’t interrupted.

“Adam says he can make crutches that’ll let you move around on your own,” he called. “That’s wonderful,” Belle whispered. “You can come and watch me when I take clothes down to the stream to wash them. When there’s no one there, I sometimes I take off my dress and wash myself. It’s really refreshing. You should try it, Caleb.”

Even the thought of her taking off her dress had my prick hard and throbbing. “Not together,” she giggled, punching me on the shoulder. “Not at first, anyway,” she added before I had time to despair.

Grandmother came over at that point, telling Belle that it was time to let me rest. I thought Belle looked disappointed as she rose to her feet, but the fire was dying so the light was not good. Grandmother lifted my head so I could drink more of her infusion without spilling it. As she bent to kiss my forehead, she whispered “Are you ready to fight for her?”

That’s when I became aware of a scuffle on the other side of the cave. The Tribe was leaving, and it appeared that dad was preventing Abel from joining them. I could not intervene, and the drink was calming me, so I lay and thought about the evening.

I think it must have been a weaker dose of poppy juice because I lay awake for a long time. My prick was still chubby, but it had been hard almost from the time I woke up. A stiff dick was no novelty although it was only in the last couple of years that I recognised the link that caused it to rise.

There are few secrets in a cave so the sounds and dim images in the light of the banked down fire alerted me to the fact that mum and dad rutted like animals. He pumped babies into her just like the boar did to the sow. That always brought me to a stand. So did teasing the girls, particularly when one of them grabbed my equipment or I touched a damp pussy, as they called the part that replaced a dick in girls.

What was completely new was getting hard simply from chatting to Belle. She had wiped my brow with a rag but had not otherwise touched me, but I had remained hard all the time she sat beside me. I was hard again now just thinking about the evening.

It almost became painful when she talked about stripping naked to wash herself. I had an image of mum and dad coupling, except that the faces were mine and Belle’s.

The other strange thing was my inability to talk to her. Speaking is very important for a hunt leader. We spent most of the day trailing the wounded stag until he was weak enough to kill. To keep my hunters reassured, I talked a lot – mostly nonsense. “We have a stag and we’ll drag the stag in a bag.” When I wanted them to do something I would shout ‘Clan!’ to get their attention before I gave the order.

So, why did I become speechless when I was with a girl? After a few minutes’ reflection, I realised that I really wanted her to like me. I talked to the hunters because I knew my worth as a hunt leader. I had no confidence in my ability to win the admiration of Belle.

My own brother Abel was my rival for her affection. He is older and will expect me to defer to him. I would do in most cases but not if it would mean losing Belle. I drifted into sleep, dreamless so far as I remember.

In the morning, I was able to sit upright on my own with no more than a twinge of pain from my damaged leg. Grandmother brought me a bowl of corn mash with honey. When I finished breakfast, I needed to relieve my bladder, but I could not think how to get to my feet.

I had concluded that I would have to edge across on my bottom until I was close enough to a shelf to pull myself up. I was saved the need to try when dad and Adam arrived bringing two sticks with a branch at the top making a letter ‘Y’. They helped me to stand on my good leg and put the yokes under my arms. There was some pain in my damaged leg but more like pins and needles after you have slept on your arm.

With Adam’s advice, I tried to walk on these crutches. It was a struggle to find a rhythm, but I had a man on each side to prevent me falling. It took time to adjust but eventually I was able to walk out of the cave where the two men settled me with a rock at my back.

It was a scene of great activity. It was late before we returned the night before since my injury slowed us. The stag had been skinned while it was still warm, and the carcase was hung from a branch out of reach of predatory animals. Only the prime cuts served at the feast had been removed. Today we would ensure that we benefited from our prize.

The two mothers were down by the stream with most of the girls. There they would scrape all the fat from the pelt. When they were done, they would mount it on a frame and submerge it in the running water, held down by stones. This was one of the women’s mysteries.

Dad and Adam were butchering the carcase, while the younger men were gathering wood for the smoke house. Younger girls were collecting herbs to flavor the smoke. Grandmother was in charge of the whole business of preservation. With proper care, this stag will provide meat for the nineteen people in the two families for a month.

Last night we ate the internal organs like liver and kidneys since they do not keep well. For the next week, we would eat fresh meat but after that we would have to preserve the meat. We had a wooden box that hung over the fire; smoke was directed under the box where the meat hung.

When grandmother pronounced it ready, the meat was removed and set aside to cool. It was later wrapped in leaves with herbs to be stored. Grandmother had little shards of limestone on which she made a mark with a piece of charcoal.

These marks were another of the women’s mysteries. They indicted to the women the order in which the stored meat should be used. All the girls seemed to know how the system worked. “Don’t ask,” was dad’s advice when I asked him to explain.

I have been participating in a festival like today’s since before I can remember. At first, I would help collect herbs with the woman, joining the boys to bring firewood as I grew older. I would probably have supervised the smoker if I hadn’t broken my stupid leg. This was the first time I had been a spectator.

Until now, I have taken the male view, believing that the leaders of the ritual are the men wielding the sharp flint knives to cut the carcase into joints and chops. From my new position on the sidelines, I can see that it is grandmother who orchestrates the activities. She instructs the men on the cut she wants first; she instructs the smoker where to place the joint and how long it should be in the smoke box; and she chooses when the fat is rendered, and the bones boiled for soup.

She was fully occupied for most of the morning but by midday things were going so well that she was able to spend time talking to me. We normally interact only when I have some specific task to discuss, but today she talked of more general things.

“My grandfather was the first to settle in the valley along with Adam’s great grandfather,” she told me. “Of course, we had been visiting for many years before he decided to settle here.” I asked why he decided to stay.

“There was a dispute with the group we travelled with. Bison were becoming more numerous and many of the families wanted to follow the herds. Some, including my grandfather, wanted to settle. I don’t think they came to blows, but they couldn’t resolve their differences, so here we are.” I had been out of the valley on hunts twice in the last year, enjoying the change of scene. I wondered if I would want to travel all the time without a warm cave to call home.

“Of course, some of you young ones will have to think of moving since there are no more caves in the valley. Perhaps you or Abel will find a nice girl on one of your hunts and join her family outside.” I was stunned. It had never crossed my mind that I might have to move away. It’s true that there are no more caves in the valley but there must be another way.

The two mothers returned from the river about then to prepare lunch. We normally eat just corn bread but, on the day, when we strip a carcase, we cover the bread with a generous coating of the rendered fat – delicious! After lunch, the older girls returned to the river to put the stretched pelt into the stream. The mothers helped Grandmother to wrap and label the smoked meat.

Abel handed over the smoker to Sam, Belle’s brother, shortly after lunch and disappeared towards the river. Grandmother soon went into the cave to store the meat brought to her by the boys and some of the younger girls. Belle smiled at me as we ate but we hadn’t spoken all day.

I was hoping that she would have sat with me then or later now the activity was slowing. As the shadows lengthened, people drifted back, many of them sitting with me for a time chatting about the day and the fine stag I had killed.

Eventually the only ones missing were Belle, her sister Daisy, my sister Rowan and Abel. I chose a moment when there was no one outside the cave to make an effort to stand up. I had been planning my moves all day. I thought I could manage but I didn’t want an audience.

I brought my good foot as close to my buttocks as possible and then grasped the crutches low down. I positioned them just behind me and pushed down hard on them. As I hoped, my good foot acted as a fulcrum, so my body rotated into an upright position. Just as I was beginning to congratulate myself, I discovered that I had pushed too hard. I had too much momentum when I reached the vertical and would have fallen forward on my face if dad hadn’t appeared from nowhere to catch me.

My plan had been to head for the river, but I was delayed while dad relayed the story of my flirtation with disaster to the rest of the family who had rushed out of the cave when they heard his shout of laughter at my predicament.

By the time I could collect myself, Belle, Daisy and Rowan had returned. All three were rather red-faced and Belle could not meet my eye. The air was rapidly cooling, so I allowed myself to be escorted inside. I was happy enough to let dad and Adam help me into a sitting position.

As on the previous evening, the Tribe family ate with us. It was Daisy who brought my food to me and sat with me while we ate. Abel had returned at some stage and was sitting on the far side of the cave from me beside Rowan. Belle was sitting between grandmother and her own mum Willow. I caught her looking at me, but she blushed and turned away when she caught my glance.

Daisy was chattering away about the magnificent pelt, giving every tiny detail of the process of curing it. She even described the choice of stones to weigh down the frame. “Belle was left in charge of putting the frame in the stream,” she bragged. “Mum said I can do it when it’s a smaller skin.”

I had been paying little attention until then, but the mention of Belle prompted me to ask a question which was causing my stomach to churn. I had just enough sense not to blurt out: “Was she alone with Abel?”

“Was Rowan with you and Belle all afternoon after the mums left?” Not subtle, I’ll admit, but it got an unexpected reaction. Daisy flushed and jumped to her feet. “Oh dear, I’ve got to go. I’ve enjoyed our chat, but I think mum want me.” Her mum was obviously surprised to see her when Daisy sat at her feet a moment later.

That was all I needed to confirm my worst fears. Belle had spent the previous evening with me out of pity for my broken leg and gratitude for me killing the stag. Today she had returned to her true love – my brother Abel. All my silly dreams were exposed as the ravings of a child. It would be six weeks before I could even challenge him and by then it would be too late.

Grandmother came over soon after with a cup of her elixir which calmed me down. I went to sleep thinking that leaving the valley and finding a bride outside was a great idea.

I woke as I usually did when grandmother leaned from her bed to stir the embers and add kindling. She slept so close to the fire that her covers sometimes singed. The time would be half an hour before first light. “I can smell the day coming,” she would tell us to explain what wakened her at that time every morning.

I sat up planning my day. Rowan brought me my morning mash and joined me, so we ate together. I was treated to my first example as an adult of feminine wiles. “You really like Belle, don’t you,” my sister asked as soon as my mouth was full of food. All I could do was nod in agreement. My mouth empty, I was just about to expand on that answer when Rowan beat me to it. “Daisy is much more fun.”

That was true and it somehow triggered a reflection about my companions. A few years ago, we had been playmates with Abel acknowledge leader of the boys and Belle of the girls. Recently, however, there has been a change, and I struggled to define the difference. I had filled my mouth with the last of the mash, when Rowan added: “Belle’s too old for you, you know.”

With that, she rose, collected my bowl and was out of the cave before I finished chewing. I put aside consideration of what she had said and implied to concentrate on my plan for the morning. I managed to stand with no more than a minor adjustment of my good leg to get my balance.

At the entrance, I almost bumped into dad who was rushing in. “I was chatting to Adam and forgot you needed help to stand – although it appears that you don’t need my help after all.” We grinned at each other before he bustled off again.

The clearing was totally different from the day before. Yesterday it was full of activity with everyone but the mums and older daughters busy preparing the meat for storage. Today there wasn’t a soul in sight. That suited my purposes very well, so I hopped over to the rock that had supported my back.

It stands about waist height with a face only about ten degrees from vertical. I had a plan to use it to help me sit down without assistance. Balance would be the most important thing since my broken leg made it impossible to adjust if I was in danger of losing control.

I stood about the length of my leg from the wall with my back towards it. I placed the crutch on my bad side well to the side and slightly behind me. Then I stepped back towards the rock, bending my good knee so the foot of my damaged leg was left behind. At that point, I let myself fall backwards until my bottom hit the rock. Bending my good knee further, I slid down the rock into a sitting position with my broken leg stretched out in front of me.