Chapter 16

I began removing the wooden grips from a short sword we’d taken after the fighting in the cabin. A second sword, salvaged from the men we’d killed on the scouting expedition, served as a chisel to cut the rivets holding the wooden pieces in place.

The sword would be a spear point after I got the hilt off. The socket-ended spear I’d made earlier could be used as a stabbing weapon, but it wasn’t designed for that purpose. There would be no opportunity to pull the weapon back, reload the socket, and thrust again, creating a second wound. For that matter, the lightweight spear and atlatl system was useful only so long as a bow and arrows weren’t available. The bow could launch more arrows with more penetrating force in a shorter amount of time, and do it from a safer distance. Still, the bow depended on distance for safety; shooting arrows into a bear at point-blank range would be hazardous to the bowman’s health!

The spear I was making, unlike the replaceable tip atlatl-driven projectile, was intended for close-in use. Even today, a form of my spear survived downtime as the rifle bayonet. Although rarely used in modern combat, it still remained useful under certain conditions.

It was not the best time to begin building a weapon, the night before using it to face an unknown animal in a fight to the death! But needs must; I could always fall back on the socketed spear and hope that with assistance from the crossbow and longbows in the hands of Lee and Lilia, it would be enough.

I was left with a full-tang blade after I removed the wooden grips. The holes in the tang couldn’t be used, because I had no rivets to replace the ones I’d chiseled away.

For the shaft, I chose to start fresh using one of the blanks I’d roughed into shape. I’d intended to make it into a bow, but I needed a spear now more than I needed a new bow in the future. My current spear shaft could have been used, but I might end up destroying the still somewhat-usable spear, and if I couldn’t complete the other one in time, I would be left with no spear at all. Time was the enemy; I might not have time to finish the project.

I set the hide-glue pot on the fireplace’s apron, raked coals around the pot, and left it in place while I began working on other tasks. A long strip of rawhide went into water to soak; it would stretch while being worked, then shrink as it dried, tightening the junction between the shaft and the metal blade. The rawhide would also become rock-hard in the process, and with a coating of more hide glue and beeswax after it had dried, it should be water-resistant even if not waterproof.

I would have to split the end of the blank to accept the blade’s tang. Softening the end fibers with boiling water allowed me to control the process, and wrapping the shaft above the split kept it from creeping further up the shaft.

I wrapped the lower part of the spear with the stretched rawhide strip, starting some ten inches above the point where the split ended. The reinforcement was necessary; a sixteen inch blade exerts a lot of leverage in use! I coated the tang of the former short sword with glue, then carefully worked it into the split. Adding more glue over the outside, I wrapped a damp rawhide strip down the shaft until the joint and two inches of the blade were covered. It’s best to use hide glue over close-fitting dry surfaces, but adding the extra glue might provide additional support. Anyway, I was depending on the shrunken rawhide to do most of the job of reinforcing the blade-to-shaft joint. I worked fast, but at the same time as carefully as possible. The spear had to work perfectly the first time. There wouldn’t be a second chance for me if it failed. The others might retreat into the cabin, but I would be hand-to-claw with the animal, too close to escape.

I hadn’t heard anything from outside in some time, but the ordinary night sounds hadn’t returned. That worried me. Whatever that animal was, it was probably still waiting. We couldn’t stay inside forever; we would have to drive the animal away or kill it.

Based on the sounds, I suspected the animal was a bear. If we were lucky, it would be a black bear, the smallest and least aggressive of the species; but it might be a grizzly, a much more dangerous beast. There was a third possibility that I didn’t want to think about.

Whatever it was, we would find out in the morning. I kept working, smoothing the shaft but leaving enough length and weight behind the grip position to balance that long blade.

Sometime after midnight—I’d lost track of time—I began the slow process of drying the completed joint and the rest of the shaft.

We had only a little fuel remaining in the cabin by that time. I carefully added it to the fire, using small bits first. There was a longer and heavier stick that might be useful tomorrow so I kept it aside. I held the spear-shaft and slowly rotated it in the radiated heat in front of the fireplace. I wanted everything to be fully dry, with the rawhide fully shrunk and the glue set, before the morning. At the same time, I didn’t want to dry the completed spear so fast that it might be weakened, perhaps by cracks in the wood.

I finally passed the job to Lee when he took over the watch around two in the morning. Facing a grizzly with no sleep? Not a good idea! I would need my wits about me and my reactions fast. As it happened, Lee let me sleep later than usual, so I’d had about four hours when he finally called me and by then there was enough light outside to spot anything that might be hanging around.

I ate a light breakfast and drank water. I pissed in the corner we’d been using after that, which is what all of us had done since I made the decision for us to remain inside during the night. Again, needs must.

The corner smelled. The cabin also smelled from the hide glue I’d been working with, so the urine was just an added stink, and five unwashed bodies didn’t help matters any. I stuck the end of the long, heavy stick I’d saved into the fire.

The blade was secure as far as I could tell. I shook the spear vigorously, but there was no sign of wobbling where the blade joined the shaft. The balance of the completed weapon wasn’t great; despite my efforts, the blade was still slightly too heavy for the shaft. The resultant weapon was as much naginata as it was spear; it could be thrust bayonet-style or used axe-like for chopping. I tried each move in slow motion and decided it would work best as a spear.

I was as prepared as I was going to get, and a nice flame now extended almost halfway up the stick.

“Lee, that thing may have gone, but get ready just in case. You and I will be the first ones outside. Lilia, you back up Lee. Sandra, you use the crossbow. Millie, I’d like you to help her reload, and if you can handle it, that torch might be useful, too. Just be careful with it. We don’t need you to burn the cabin before we’re ready to leave!”

Finally, it was time. I took a deep breath, held the heavy spear ready, and nodded to Sandra to open the door. I saw nothing. I released that held-in breath and breathed a sigh of relief.

But then, a huge furry mass broke from the tree line and came for me. Even limping, favoring a front paw, that thing was fast!

It was a bear, but not a grizzly; it was less chunky than a grizzly and the legs were longer. Still, it was powerful; it brushed aside the vegetation at the edge of the woods as if the plants were no more than cobwebs.

I registered all this and rapped out, “Lee! Back inside!”

The women would need him if I didn’t survive. I would have gone in too, but there wasn’t time for both of us to get inside and bar the door before that thing reached us. But I now had a heavy spear that extended more than eight feet from tip to butt. The long blade added length to the shaft, and the extra distance would hopefully keep the bear from mauling me.