Chapter 1

"What the shit am I doing here?" Doug Holmes thought as he struggled to his feet. "Naked and in the middle of a desert of sorts. I've got to get to some shelter before I suffer fatal heat stroke! I'll worry about other things later."

He started walking toward some trees he saw in the distance. "Those trees can't be more than a mile away. I'll have to hurry, but not so fast that I tire myself out. Thank God for my Ranger training. If I can find shelter soon enough, I should survive until I'm rescued."

Doug made a point of stepping into every bit of shade that he could find. "God, this sand is hot! I've got to be careful where I put my feet or I'll develop blisters and never make it to those trees. There may be some prickly pear cactus around here; if necessary, I'll chew on a leaf for the liquid. It'll taste like hell and maybe make me throw up, but the liquid would save my life if I could keep it down."

An hour later, Doug had reached the trees and a small stream. "At least, I've got water. I can put off chewing on cactus for a little while. If I'm in the southwestern USA, I could be arrested for damaging a cactus. Say, maybe that's what I need to do to get rescued!" Doug dropped to his knees and used his hands to scoop up water to drink. He didn't drink all the water he wanted at once for fear of getting sick from it. He was already sweating profusely, so he knew that he would be thirsty soon, anyway, so he forced himself to wait.

Meanwhile, he needed to find food and a place to hide from the sun. All he needed was a bad sunburn. Fortunately, he had a good tan from all his field work, so he had not burned, yet. He also needed salt to counteract what he was losing in his sweat. He had a busy day coming up as soon as the sun started down from its peak. Since it looked to be nearly noon, Doug planned to rest in the shade for at least an hour. He wasn't hungry, yet, and knew that he could go for several days before he had a serious problem. Now that he had water, his next priority was getting rescued.

Doug leaned back against a tree and jerked forward, again. "Damn, that hurt!" Well, he did have a little sunburn, already. "Shit! Now I really have to be careful." Doug gave up on leaning against the rough bark of the tree and stretched out on the ground, instead. He didn't go to sleep, but spent his time trying to figure out what had happened to him.

Douglas Holmes was an anthropologist specializing in ancient Native American cultures. His current interest was in trying to find more information on the Clovis people of New Mexico. He was 32 years old and in excellent physical condition. As soon as he was old enough, he had joined the Army and had wiggled his way into the Rangers on merit and sheer persistence. He had lost a couple of toes in Iraq; he didn't think that he was slowed down by the injury, but the Army did, so he resigned and went to college. He got his BS in Anthropology and was now nearly finished with his PhD dissertation on the Clovis people.

He had traveled to Auburn University in connection with this to visit a friend in the Physics Department there who had invented a "time machine." This wasn't really a time machine that you could move things through, but one that let you view things as they happened in the remote past. He leaned a little on the ties of friendship and got his friend to let him spend a day looking at the people who had lived in the Clovis, NM, region about 12,000-11,000 years ago. He was trying to find when the first true Clovis points were made, so he was making jumps of about 500 years back before that. He had gone too far, and the site he was looking at was covered with ice.

Doug had just started turning the control back to more recent times when there was a tremendous arc between segments of the apparatus, and the arc finally jumped to him. The next thing he knew, he was naked and lying on the sand of a pseudo desert.

Doug was lounging in the shade by the stream when he spotted movement off to his right on the other side of the stream. A moment later, he recognized that he had seen a man; he was saved! Doug jumped up and shouted to attract attention. The other man had not seen Doug and jerked his head around at the shout. He trotted toward Doug, holding his staff in front of him, end first as he ran.

Doug was so happy to be found that he had had not consciously registered that the man running toward him was a Native American and wearing skins for clothing. As the man entered the water to come closer, Doug noted those details and that the staff was really a spear with a wrought stone tip! The expression on the man's face was anything but friendly.

The Ranger training took over without conscious thought on Doug's part. He stood in place until the man got close enough for Doug to reach the spear. As soon as it was within reach, Doug stepped to the side and knocked the spear the other way. Doug grabbed the spear shaft and pulled the man off balance. This caused the man to stagger and Doug held the spear with his left hand while he slapped the man's face as hard as he could with his right hand. At 5-feet 11-inches tall, Doug was at least 5 inches taller than the Native American and at 195-pounds, none of it fat, he had no trouble in knocking the other man to the ground.

The Native American man lay on the ground, too dazed to rise. This gave Doug a chance to examine the spear. The shaft was sturdy and well made, but the point was flint and very crudely formed. It showed none of the sophistication that Doug would have expected from a Clovis native. The man was coming around, so Doug tossed the spear aside and reached down to help the man to his feet. He said, "Let me help you up."

The man on the ground said, "Ogan tzay uvan? (Who are you?)"

Doug said, "Oh, shit! I never heard that language, before."

The man grabbed Doug's hand, but, instead of getting up, pulled Doug closer and tried to grab Doug's balls with his other hand. Doug grunted, "Oh no you don't!" and dropped his knee with his full weight behind it onto the man's solar plexus. The man's breath whooshed out, and he rolled over in agony. Doug laughed and sat down to wait for the man to regain his ability to breathe.

It must have taken 10 minutes for the man to regain full control of himself, but finally he did. He also looked at Doug with new respect. The man assumed a sitting position and looked questioningly at Doug. Doug tapped his own chest and said, "Doug." Doug did this a few more times, and the man finally seemed to get the idea.

The Native American tapped his own chest and said, "Little Bear" Doug pointed a finger at the man and said, "Little Bear" The man pointed a finger at Doug and said, "Doug." Doug smiled and nodded his head, hoping that the man understood that to be a sign of agreement. Fortunately for Doug, he had a great facility for language, so he gained a working vocabulary very quickly as the two men "talked" over the next three hours.

At the end of this time, Little Bear stood up. Doug stood up, too, and pointed at the spear and said, "Little Bear take spear." At this, Little Bear picked up the spear and waved at Doug to accompany him. As they crossed the stream, Doug paused long enough to pick up a baseball-size rock; every man should have a weapon.

They walked toward a range of hills for two hours until they came to a large grove of trees. By this time, Doug had figured out that he could not possibly still be in the 21^st century. Doug could see a number of small huts among the trees, so he figured that this must be Little Bear's village. They entered the trees and Little Bear said, "Doug wait here." Doug leaned against a tree while Little Bear entered the village and ducked into a hut. Little Bear came back shortly with a piece of meat which he handed to Doug, and said, "Doug eat. Wait here."

Doug figured that this was an excellent sign, so he sat down and gnawed at the hunk of meat while Little Bear returned to the village. Little Bear went to a different hut and scratched on the wall beside the door. Apparently, he was called in. Little Bear was inside the hut for nearly an hour before he came out with two other men, both old and richly dressed.

The three came to where Doug was waiting and one of the older men said, "Show how you fight." This had to be repeated by Little Bear before Doug understood what they wanted.

Doug said, "I show how I fight." and turned back to Little Bear just as he charged. Little Bear ran at Doug with his arms open as if he wanted to grab Doug around the waist. Doug did not want to cause a serious injury to Little Bear, so he had to be careful which moves he made. Doug stepped to one side and grabbed one of Little Bear's arms and pulled hard while sticking out his leg at ankle height. Little Bear fell hard to the ground, as if he had never before faced this kind of fight.

He reached down to help Little Bear to his feet and Little Bear again tried to grab Doug's balls. Doug dropped onto his solar plexus, but not as hard as the last time, but enough to make his point. When Little Bear had regained his breath, Doug helped him up while keeping his balls out of reach. Little Bear charged again and Doug this time rolled onto his back and sent Little Bear flying through the air for several feet. All three men were surprised at this. When Little Bear was able to regain his feet, The old man held up his hand and grunted; Little Bear stopped attacking.