The Caveman
Copyright© 2016 by Colin Barrett
Chapter 17
I have understood very little of the talk between Linda and her brother.
At first the brother seems good to me. He holds his hand out in such a way that I think he means for me to take it in my hand, and I do this. Then, when Linda speaks of what happened yesterday with the man who pushed her, he arises and does this again and offers thanks to me.
But after is much talk between them, and they appear to argue. And the brother now acts differently to me. I think he may feel I am unworthy, though I do not know why he now feels this way.
They use a word I do not understand many times, and I think they mean it about me. “Man” I know, but what is “cave” that they place in front of it? I wish to ask Linda, but I think it is a bad time to do so when she and her brother are in such disagreement.
Linda shows her brother the spearbag and spears, and he foolishly touches the head of one spear and cuts himself. Linda brings out things to tend to his wound, which is very small but nevertheless makes much blood as such wounds do, and finally wraps it with a bandage much smaller than the one she used on me, and this bandage appears to stick of itself to his skin. I think I am glad that the bandage she used for me did not stick to my skin in such a way, it would have been much more difficult to remove.
There is more talk between them, and then the brother thrusts my spear out to me and asks to see how I use it. I do not know why he wishes this, a spear is ordinarily used in only one way, but I will do.
First, though, I ask Linda will she replace my binding. I must use this hand to cast, and my chest is still sore from when I strike the bad man yesterday and it will be easier with the support. I think the brother is not happy with this, but he waits while I remove the shirt and she binds me again.
I do not take up my shirt again, it covers the arms and will hamper me when I cast. I put on only my jacket to protect against the cold while I prepare. I will remove it again to throw.
When we go out the door I look to the brother and ask where I should throw. He points to a large tree. “There, hit that,” he says.
This is a target for a boy, and a young boy. I would not insult even one so young as Unkgat to throw at it. And mine are not practice spears, they will penetrate this tree and may be difficult to dislodge after, and it may injure the spearhead. I have only two spears and I have not the skill to make a new head, nor do I know where flint may be found here.
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