Chapter 4

Finally I understand. After watching him all day, I understand why he is so fearless.

I followed him south. He went to the river, and then followed it to the trading site.

He walked along the side of the river, plain as day. No fear of predators, no fear of being seen, and seemingly no awareness that he was being followed. None in my tribe would be so foolish. Except perhaps Shara, who can't pick a tuber without falling on her face.

He several times spoke in that strange language of his to the wolves. I memorized the sounds, hoping they were part of a language that all wolves would understand. It was only slightly harder than remembering the sounds of the red bird, after all. I carefully watched the wolves' reactions as he spoke. Some words got no reaction at all. Others produced consistent reactions. One phrase seemed easy to understand, after I heard it repeated several times. It always started with the same sounds, but had two different endings. By the time he reached the trading site, I had it figured out. The first sound was an order to return to him. The second was a name. One sound attracted the male, the other the female.

Who would have believed that wolves had names? I wonder how many other creatures have names! To call a horse, or bull, or goat to you by name! I was careful in my listening, and made sure to remember every sound he made.

As different as this man was, I was beginning to think about revealing myself to him. It was a scary thought. Any person can be dangerous, even members of one's own tribe, as my current situation attested. A person completely different than any I had ever met, with power over animals? One who carried a star at night, and made fire in an instant? Finally, I did not know if we had a language in common. I doubted that we would.

When he reached the trading site, I stayed back. I watched him wander around the site, examining all the things we used at gathering. Our underground sweat lodge, our fire pit, the wood pile, the swimming hole. After a long while of wandering around the site, he returned to the river, and retraced his previous trip.

Why would he travel all this way, just to look around? Perhaps he knew about the trading site, but didn't know that we only used it until the end of the warm season?

The day the herds head south is the last day of trading. All trading of tribe members is reserved for that day, along with petitions for apprenticeship to the shamans, healers, and craftsmen. The tribes are always richest after the long summer, so that day is the time to pay bride prices, trade for talismans, collect new flints, and call in debts from years past. We return again with the herds, and the first day is the time to put forth the new men, and women. Those who have come of age are presented, so that possible matings can be considered, and bride prices set. At midsummer disputes are heard and the graduations from apprenticeship are announced. Those two days allow the tribes to judge what they can afford, to buy the young men brides, and to woo the skilled. A hunter can change tribes at any of those days, and healers, shamans, or craftsmen can seek out a tribe, if they have passed their apprenticeship and do not fit well in their current tribe.

While I followed him back up the river, I spent a while ruminating on the frustrating experience of petitioning the shaman for apprenticeship, being put to this test while standing in front of all the assembled tribes. As I had been doing all week, I found myself shifting back and forth between sadness, anger, and stubborn resolve.

I hoped I could learn something by watching this man and his wolves that might help me survive the coming winter. Learning to talk to animals certainly could help.

During the second half of the walk north, after we left the river, he stopped occasionally to pick fruits and berries. He didn't eat any of them, however. This was good for him, because almost half of what he picked was poisonous. I wondered why he was gathering them. Several of the things he collected were useful for poultices, and one was used to chase away biting bugs. Several more had no purpose that I knew of. Even the useful ones he only took one of, which seemed strange to me.

The sun was still high in the sky, though almost half way to the horizon, when we passed the clearing where he had slept the night before. It was obvious to me that he was going back to the place he had started from, and I was beginning to wonder where that was. Traveling much farther in this direction would lead us to the Great Waters.

When he reached the edge of the forest, I stayed back, knowing that simply following him into the fields would make me visible. Once he was far enough away, I crouched low, and quietly made my way after him.

He led the way across the field, and then started down a valley. As I reached the top of the valley, I watched him come to a stop, looking ahead, and across the valley. I looked where he was looking, and I saw a lone bull, grazing. I could see why he would stop. A bull's horns are a deadly weapon, and their thundering hooves have killed many a hunter.

While I watched, he pulled the gray stick off his back, and raised the wooden end to his shoulder. He seemed to look along the length of it, as if checking a spear for curve. The gray end of the stick was pointed at the bull. I saw him flinch suddenly, and the bull lurched. Almost immediately afterwards I heard a loud noise, like thunder but sharper, with less echo, and no rolling. The bull looked up, and the process repeated. This time the bull fell to the ground, and after a moment the man lowered the stick. He returned it to his back, and set off toward the bull. I simply crouched there, stunned.

This was why he was so fearless.

This was why he walked alone by the watering hole, though the woods, and across the field as if he could not be harmed. He acted that way because he knew a great secret.

He knew how to kill, from a half dozen bow flights. The weapon he carried could do, from an incredible range, what six hunters with spears struggled to accomplish. With little effort or concern I could use my sling to kill a rabbit. With the same concern and effort, he could kill a bull. It obviously took him a moment to prepare, and some concentration to execute. Nevertheless, he took no risk and suffered no strain to kill a month's worth of meat.