Chapter 15

Others were what my women and I guess all Cro-Magnons called Neanderthals. I'm pretty sure it was what Neanderthals called Cro-Magnons too, but it didn't really matter. I knew who and what the girls were talking about and I called a short trail break to go over our plans again.

They showed me they remembered my instructions for dealing with meeting people we didn't know. They even remembered perfectly the different methods for dealing with an attack by only a few, or by more than a few. Leaving the area was not in our plans at all, but if the attacking group looked to be more than a dozen they were to drop the lead ropes and run off for a hundred yards or so. We'd regroup then and go back to recover our extra mounts and our goods after dealing with the offenders.

The short break for reinforcing the instructions was just in the nick of time, as they say. Eight young Neanderthals sprang out from hiding no more than a mile farther along. Thankfully they were grouped closely together and trying to block our progress. I had the girls stop and hold their fire, but the bunch of wildmen sent no one forward to parley, and shortly they broke into a run towards us, raising their spears and shaking them in a threatening manner.

Actually I almost felt sorry for them. When they came within fifty yards I cut loose and the girls followed suit. In seconds there were only eight dead bodies to block our path.

"Two were waiting behind and they ran when they saw the others die. More of them will probably come soon," Catla said.

"Good, they can come and take care of their dead if they have someone smarter to lead them. If they don't we will have to kill more of them."

"Different men may want to talk first. All these seem very young. Perhaps they were only out hunting and didn't know what to do when they saw us riding the horses," Shayta said.

I was sure there'd be nothing we really needed on the bodies and we left them alone. I decided to dismount so I could meet anyone who came up on more or less equal terms. The girls wanted to dismount too, but I had them stay aboard in case they needed to run off if too many came to see what happened.

Nearly an hour later a group of twenty or so men came walking up. Only one approached us and he wasn't carrying a spear. He was wearing some type of semi-ornate headgear though. As he came near I held my hand out palm forward and he repeated the gesture.

"Why have you killed these young ones of our camp?" he asked.

"They did not offer to parley. They ran at us shouting and raising their spears to attack. There were others who stayed back watching and we saw them run away. Didn't they tell you?"

Of course Catla had to come forward to translate since the man obviously didn't understand the whole story. I was trying to use what I knew of the Cro-Magnon language, but I'm sure I wasn't doing a very good job.

After Catla translated I understood him when he asked why I spoke so poorly so I gave him a short batch of good old Texas English.

"Cause I ain't a dammed old cave man you stupid bastard. I'm bettin' my Cro-Magnon is a hell of a lot better than your redneck."

Apparently it at least let him know we weren't just fucking around with the translations for the fun of it. I let Catla tell him where we were going and why, but when she didn't ask if any of the eight had a widow I did, since I knew enough of the language to get it across.

For a second it seemed to stump him, but then he had a mouth full.

"Only one had a mate. The others were on their first hunt to try making a kill so they could take a mate. You cannot have the widow of the man you killed," he said, sounding defiant at the last.

I let the M1 tell him what I thought of his pronouncement with a few shots around his feet. I knew it threw up a few rocks to sting his legs and the sound was deafening, or nearly so. I think the muzzle blast also singed him a little.

"How many of you shall I kill before you let me have his widow and possessions?" I asked, after the noise died down.

"None. You did not tell me you had magic," he said.

"And you didn't ask before you let your mouth overload your ass."

He turned red in the face after Catla translated, but he got over it. Then he offered to lead us to his camp so we could make sure we got all the dead one's things and his mate.

"That will be good. Some of those surely need to take care of the dead anyway. You can ride one of our horses there to keep from having a long walk," I said.

"I do not know how to ride a horse," he said, and it was easy to understand that much at least.

"You must learn sometime. Those who won't learn must die of ignorance."

He gave me a long hard look after Catla translated, but he agreed to try and I took the lead rope off Dolly and showed him the stirrup and how to use it. Soon enough he was aboard with the reins in his hands. I told him to use the reins gently and rode right beside him giving him tips all the way. Catla rode on the other side and helped translate when he had trouble understanding me.

I hadn't missed the mouths of his other people dropping open when he mounted, but it was nothing to the show the rest of his folks put on when we rode into their camp. There were only four mature men around, but there were plenty of women and dozens of small children. They were all stupefied.

I doubt they were more surprised than I was when I got my first look at the widow I'd come to fetch. When I left earth I knew good and well the scientist all swore there was no way Cro-Magnon Man and Neanderthal Man were ever able to interbreed. Careful scrutiny of DNA from remains had proved it.

I would have never argued the point at all, but the evidence they were at least partially wrong was standing before me in the here and now. Keeta was the tallest woman in camp even though I doubted she was sixteen. She also had beautiful wavy red hair and dark blue eyes.

She had a beautiful face too, and even though none of the other women were what I'd call ugly - none of them could hold a light to Keeta. Not to my way of thinking anyway. Her forehead looked just like ours and didn't have the distinctive slope theirs had. She was considerably more muscular than any Cro-Magnon women I'd seen, but she wasn't as heavily muscled as women body builders from earth of my time.

Keeta was an F1 cross if I'd ever seen one, and hybrid vigor was practically dripping from her lovely form. No matter what the earth scientist of my former time thought, I knew for sure at least one Neanderthal Man had impregnated at least one Cro-Magnon woman, or vice versa. It wasn't really so surprising to me since I knew Texas A&M University once had a female mule which had estrus cycles, could conceive, and could sometimes carry a fetus and give birth. With millions upon millions of tries, occasionally anything can happen. Keeta was living proof it had.

I dismounted and with Catla's help explained what had happened and told Keeta I was sorry if I'd caused her grief. I could understand their language much better than I could speak it and her words and tone let me know she wasn't all broken up over the chance to leave this camp. She even apologized over the fact they didn't really have much since they were such a new couple, having only mated a few of months ago. She also promised to try hard to be a good mate for me.

I surprised her and everyone in the camp who was watching by pulling her to me and kissing her soundly. I even gave her ass a little grope for good measure.