Chapter 6

Gut pains woke me before daylight, so I got up and did what was necessary. I smelled the pork, but even the concentrated smell from my pack seemed okay. The fiddleheads, maybe? My memory suggested they were probably safe, but just to be sure I decided to cook the next batch before eating them, and I’d keep a close eye on the rest of my pork. Thinking back to the way I’d smoke-cooked it and the way the breeze had swirled the smoke, some might have gotten more of a cure than the rest. My stomach settled down after that first episode of looseness and I headed out.

The dark object was the doorway to a long-abandoned dwelling. Grass grew in front and around the sides, and it appeared that no one had visited this place for years. Had someone like me lived here, or perhaps a descendant? A family?

The Futurist hadn’t told me of a timetable, only that eventually some of the survivors would be ‘harvested’ for transplanting on Earth Prime. Had that happened to the people who’d built this house? It occurred to me that reaching the coast was only the beginning; I would need a shelter before winter and I couldn’t count on having a long time to build one. Something like what I was seeing might work very well for me.

I prowled around the outside and closely examined the dwelling’s construction. A dirt mound rose to a low roof, which was itself covered with dirt, and log ends stuck out like the spokes of a giant wheel. The black thing I’d seen was a door opening, so I poked the end of my spear through the doorway and banged it against the sides, nothing growled or hissed back, so I stepped cautiously inside.

The interior was dim, with only the doorway and a hole in the roof letting in light. I relaxed and looked around, marveling. I saw nothing I couldn’t create myself, given time, but something like this would keep me warm and safe from storms.

The walls were made of logs placed close together, palisade-like, and the spaces between had been chinked with mud. The log butt ends had been buried in the ground. The roof sloped away from a central upright and close-set roof supports extended past the walls. Wooden branches across the supports kept out the dirt, and it appeared that skins had been placed over those to keep the covering dirt from dropping through.

The floor had been dug out two feet below ground level, and a dirt ledge extended around the inside of the walls. A place for sitting or sleeping, I figured; pretty ingenious, and it looked really solid. I’d had vague ideas of building some sort of teepee, but this looked better and it should be easier to build.

There had once been a skin covering for the door, but only scraps remained. Animals might have gnawed the rest away, or it might simply have rotted; I couldn’t tell. Charred wood and ash still lined the fire-pit under the smoke-hole near the roof’s peak.

Looking around the dirt ledge, I found small points made from chert near the back of the dwelling; they looked as if the worker had simply laid them aside a few days ago. There were also several dart-like objects tipped with similar points, but no evidence of flight-control feathers. The absence was soon resolved; a hand-carved object lay near the darts, likely an atlatl, and there was a spear shaft of better workmanship that mine. It had no point, but one end had a deep conical socket designed to accept a dart. The other end had a shallow cup, and the atlatl had a knob designed to fit the hollow at the end of the spear shaft.

Pleistocene North Americans had used such a system, replaceable darts and an atlatl to throw their spears. The shaft would fall away, leaving the dart stuck in the animal, and it could then be reloaded and thrown again. Carry one or two shafts and a dozen darts; far preferable to carrying half a dozen spears! It had worked for them, it would work for me, and best of all I wouldn’t have to stick a big predator with the spear. I could throw it at him and scamper up the tree while he was figuring out what had hurt him!

A hollowed grinding stone lay near the fire pit, with two hand-sized stones nearby that had been used for grinding grain. I couldn’t carry the heavy stones, they would have to remain behind in the ancient dwelling, but I could find other stones when I found a place to settle down. The other objects I would take with me.

I concluded that this hut had been home to a family, and there might be more dwellings about, but I wouldn’t take time to search for them. I already had all I could carry comfortably.

The atlatl was too weakened by rot, possibly because it had picked up oil from the user’s hands. I fixed the shape in mind and left the original behind. I loaded a dart in the spear’s socket, and it might have been a snug fit when new, but it had dried out and shrunk over the years. Even so, the combination was better than what I had. I kept the point of my new spear up so that the dart wouldn’t drop out, and I put the others in my pack, points up and ready for use.

Tomorrow I might find the source of that smoke.

It had been an interesting experience, but investigating the old dwelling had taken longer than expected. Judging by the sun’s position, it was afternoon already, but too early to set up camp so I headed out.

I came to a spring-fed stream a few miles away and decided it was a good place to quit for the day. After setting up camp, I ate more of the pork, then soaked the ends of the darts in a water-filled gourd I’d picked up along the way. I also poured some of the water into the spear’s socket to soak before bedding down for the night.

Next morning, I found that the darts had resumed their snug fit.

It was a simple, yet effective, weapon; friction held the darts in place until they were embedded in an animal, then the shaft dropped away. It could be picked up, a new dart inserted, and immediately used again. Leaving the stream, I followed the edge of the forest toward where I’d seen the smoke. Along the way, I chopped a piece of wood suitable for carving into an atlatl, which would lever-like add force to my spear casts. I began carving it during my next break and added a cord loop that would let me store more energy by pre-tensioning the cord before launching the spear. Eventually there would be a leather loop; the cord was strong, but rough, and it might blister my hand. I decided that I would make a new spear too, one with a longer, heavier shaft. As soon as it was usable, I could use the salvaged one for practice. The users of the spear I’d found might have been smaller, but considering what I might use the new spear on, bigger was better.

Later that afternoon, I spotted dark objects far across the grass. They might have been grazing, they might have been simply passing through, but whatever they were they wouldn’t be friendly. Even with my new atlatl and reloadable shaft, the creatures were too large for me to consider attacking. Maybe one day, after I’d built a bow and learned to use it...

The atlatl got more attention later because I might need it at any time. Stones substituted for sandpaper, smoothing the wood and improving the fit of the hollow. As a final step I adjusted the hand-loop until it felt right, then tucked the device into my belt. Fine sand would do for final smoothing, but the atlatl-spear-dart system was now fully usable.

I topped a small rise later that afternoon and spotted more smoke, and this time it was less than half a mile ahead. I crawled the final five hundred or so yards, taking advantage of small bits of cover, then slipped as close as I dared. The smoke was rising from an earth-colored, beehive-shaped object standing next to a large, shingle-roofed, log cabin.

I watched, while trying to make sense of the scene. The cabin’s logs had been squared and notched to fit tightly with the cross-logs. It looked well built, solid; I knew I couldn’t improve on it if I had a workshop and helpers. At one end of the cabin was a chimney; a thin wisp of pale gray-brown smoke rose from it, different from the darker smoke I’d seen before. Was the cabin something put here by the Futurists? Or was there some other group involved, perhaps someone like the people from the dwelling I’d found? A door opened while I watched and a dark-haired young woman came out. She added dried branches to a hole near the base of the beehive-shaped object, then carefully selected and added a green branch as well. In a moment, there was a renewed plume of dark smoke. She turned around and went back in the cabin.

I stepped out of the edge of the wood, remaining close enough to dodge behind cover but visible to anyone in the house. My spear shaft, dart still inserted, leaned against a nearby tree.

“Hello, the house!” I called out as loudly as I could.

After a moment I saw movement at a window, closed until now by an internal shutter. I made sure my hands were visible and turned them palm-forward where they hung at my side.

I got a reply, “Hello.” She spoke English, anyway; there had been no assurance that she would!

“I’m friendly,” I called back. “Can I come up to the cabin?”

“OK,” she replied. “But keep your hands in sight.” She had some sort of weapon, then, probably projectile in nature, and she was prepared to defend herself. The dark smoke had probably been a deliberate attempt to attract others, but even so, she was cautious.

Hands extended slightly from my side, palms still facing forward, I walked about halfway to the cabin and stopped. I was cautious too!

The door opened and a different woman stepped out. Like the other, this one wore a skirt, but her hair was so light brown as to be nearly blonde. So; two women in the cabin, possibly more. It looked large enough to house half a dozen people if they were really good friends!

“I saw your smoke,” I told her. “I’m hoping we can help each other.”

“We caused the fire to smoke,” she replied. “If anyone was near we thought they’d see it. You’re the second to come here.”

“I saw a different woman earlier,” I said. “There’s only one of me, and I mean you no harm.”

“You can come on up,” she responded, “but be careful. There’s a crossbow aimed at you.”

Another surprise, but I could get killed by an animal as well as by a crossbow bolt so I walked toward her.

I still had my knife, axe, and club, but I kept my hands away from them. As I approached, I noticed her move aside. From her new position she would not be between the window and me. If the other woman was watching from inside the house, as I supposed, she was concealed in the shadows.