Chapter 3

Rod went on several more hunting trips before winter came in earnest. He was more of a security guard than a hunter. Luckily his services weren't needed. Once the snows came, the camp turned to its two favorite pastimes, story telling and sex. Trelo had at least one boy friend and maybe more. Travlo kept Rod busy or maybe it was the other way around. Rod discussed pregnancy with Travlo and found that she understood much better than he thought she would. She didn't know the reasons, but she knew when in her cycle she was most likely to get pregnant.

I have to get over my prejudices. These people are as smart as I am, Hell many are smarter. They don't have my technology. That doesn't make them stupid; the stupid ones die because they do something stupid.

Rod asked Travlo to try not to get pregnant now. She had to wait until next year and to tell Trelo to wait. Neither was happy about it but both were happier with Rod than they had been with their old husbands, no bruises for months, and Trelo still thought she had a shot at Rod. Her boy friends were just that, boys compared to him. They scratched an itch but didn't get rid of the underlying cause.

When catkins appeared on the oaks it was almost time to leave. Rod had the two women begin packing. He found Atatl outside his tent and sat down next to him. "Atatl, my friend," Rod said. "In the morning we will leave. I don't know when we will return but I wish you well while we are gone."

"What is it that you seek Williams?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe a place without fights," Rod answered.

"Why? You are a great warrior. How many of your enemies have you killed?"

"More than I can count," said Rod. "But it is not something that I am proud of."

"I don't understand," Atatl said. He was puzzled.

"Would you be happy if you killed one of the People?" Rod asked.

"No!"

"What is the difference between the Lake People and our People?"

"You are a very odd warrior," Atatl said.

"That's true." And after a pause Rod asked, "It has been a good year hasn't it? Many babies have been born and only a few of the people have died. Spring is here and we still have food left from the fall. Not all years are like last year, are they? Some years we starve and some years we grow. If we had no enemies our lives would be easier. That's why I was trained. So that my tribe's enemies would be afraid to attack and we could live in peace. Now I find myself far from my home and far from peace. I'll wander until I see what the other tribes are like. Maybe I can bring peace. Don't worry. I will never fight the People. Part of my heart will always be here, waiting for me to return."

"Where will you go now?" Atatl asked.

"Do you know a people who are not at war with you and not at war with the Lake People?" Rod asked.

"No, we are surrounded by our enemies. Only in the south are there more of our People."

"Trelo never stops talking. Maybe she can talk our way into the Lake People's village," Rod said with a smile.

"But can she talk your way out?" Atatl asked. "You will always be welcomed in any of our People's villages. Maybe you can find peace there." Rod and Atatl and grasped each other's hand. Rod walked slowly back to his tent and his family. He turned and said in English, "You're not bad for a murdering son-of-a-bitch."

For the next few weeks Rod expected that he, Travlo, and Trelo would be alone. He would give them spears to carry. He would carry his knives and firearms. In his pack he found 4 bottles of Jim Bean. He had completely forgotten about it since the night he nearly froze to death. With a laugh he went to find Ateel. "It is Spirit Water, Ateel," Rod said. "Don't drink too much at one time."

That afternoon while they continued to pack, the People stopped by to say goodbye. That night there was a ceremony. In the morning no one spoke as the three left the village.

They walked northeast out of the camp. Once out of sight of the camp, Rod stopped Trelo and asked, "Which way to your people?" Trelo quickly pointed east and set off at a brisk pace. Travlo said, "No."

Yes and no were traded several times before Rod decided on a compromise. He handed Travlo's pack to Trelo and slung Travlo over his shoulder. It would have to be a short term compromise. She was solid, heavier than she looked. The only place he could reach that wasn't rock hard was her butt, but when he grabbed her there he got a nasty look from Trelo.

Being carried must have been more uncomfortable than carrying her was. She said, "Yes, now put me down you son of a bitch." The SOB was delivered in pretty good English.

He put her down and she took her pack from Trelo. Rod figured that this was a good time so they stopped for a short rest and then they started up again. The order of battle was Trelo, Travlo, and then Rod. Now he had the rifle out and watched their back trail.

They followed Trelo for several days across the rolling grasslands. Occasionally there would be patches of trees near streams or small rivers. Some of the trees were huge; a sugar maple 2 meters in diameter, a hickory even bigger. It made Rod want to be a tree hugger, except the trees were too big to hug. There were small trees too, small enough to make racks for drying meat. They camped one night by a river. A hill was in a good position from which to make a kill.

The next morning, Rod lifted his head over a ridge near camp. Hunting was perfect. The wind was in his face. Not more than 250 meters away was the strange animal that looked like a cross between a moose and an elk. He'd been calling them melks to himself but had learned the peoples' name for them. He slid back four feet and pantomimed putting fingers in both of his ears. When the girls set down their spears and had their fingers tight in their ears, Rod moved back up and took the shot. For him it was anticlimactic. His ears were ringing and the melk was down. The other game animals running, they were running almost as fast as the girls, their spears left where they lay.

They were halfway down the slope before Trelo looked over her shoulder. Rod had the rifle slung on his shoulder and was signaling for her to come back. Little by little, she slowed down, finally turned to face him and stopped walking.

"The two of you get your silly asses up here," he yelled.

"Fuck no."

Well what did he expect. "Please come here," he said. "I won't make more noise."

Travlo's fight or flight reflex was under control now and she started up the hill. There was no way Trelo going to be alone right now. By the time they got near Rod, they were walking as if on egg shells, or maybe land mines. He pointed to the spears. I should have been an anthropologist, eye rolling had been developed before modern civilization, he thought to himself. But they did as he asked. It had been Hell to get them to carry spears. Spears were men's work.

The girls could see that the melk was down. They exchanged looks and then looked at Rod. He bowed low and said, "Yes, I am the greatest hunter on Earth. At least I am if this is Earth." He started down the slope and they were soon running past him. "I hope you know how to butcher a melk because I don't have a clue."

Travlo had a pre-prepared chert nodule that she could strike and make razor sharp flakes to cut the skin and meat, but the flakes were brittle and didn't last long. Rod sharpened his small knife with ceramic whetstone he had brought. After she had gone through four flakes, he gave the knife to her. It wasn't as sharp as the flakes but it wouldn't break and stayed sharp much longer. Trelo sent him back to the woods near the camp; she wanted a pole about three meters long and five centimeters diameter. "Yes," he said. "Hold your spears." Eye rolls again.

How the hell did they stay alive? By staying with the men, shit for brains. That's why they have never needed to hold a spear. I better get back in a hurry. He did and it was a good thing. Ownership for the melk was up for grabs. Three huge wolves had one side of the melk and the girls had the other. The wolves looked like they had experience with humans. They were careful. Rod took off at run down the slope pulling out the pistol. He didn't need to instantly kill a wolf; he needed to join the girls.

Trelo damn near stabbed him when he ran up beside her. He moved between the two of them. "Travlo, Trelo," he said. When he had their attention he screamed "LOUD," as he pointed to the rifle. "Loud," he said when he pointed to the pistol. They looked nervous but not afraid. Rod picked the smallest wolf shot it in the chest. It didn't go down right away and it made some terrible yelping. He felt sorry for it, like he had shot a dog. The other wolves were distracted so he used the time to grab a rock and throw it as hard as he could at the largest wolf. The big wolf yelped and that ended the battle of wolf hollow.

It would be nice to have a dog but it would take fifteen to twenty generations to domesticate an animal. It would also takes a larger group of people than Rod had seen so far. He sharpened the hunting knife and gave it to Trelo. She and Travlo went back to work. Rod did the hard work, watching for dangers while he sat on a rock.

It was interesting to watch them work together. They got along well enough, singing a work song. Some of the verses made them look up at Rod and blush. The melk's lungs were thrown away as was the colon. The stomach and small intestines were squeezed clean and thrown back into the melk's belly. Some parts he didn't recognize were kept and some were thrown away. There was blood everywhere. Rod guessed that was part of the plan. Reduce the weight so they could carry this big boy back to camp. They lashed it to the pole with its head on. It didn't make much sense to him at the time.

They had to lash its head separately so the antlers wouldn't drag on the ground. Why keep the head? Christ it was heavy. The girls took the front of the pole and Rod took the back. It was going to be a long way back to camp. Time and too many jumps had taken their toll on Rod. He doubted he would be able to walk tomorrow; he was nearly 45 years old by now.

They ate fresh meat that night and had some of the meat drying on racks. Rod stayed up all night making sure the food was safe. He slept most of the next day. The girls had all the meat drying and a soup of tripe and some kind of vegetable. Other than needing salt, it was pretty good. They were both working on the melk's skin. Rod felt better than he had expected to.

That night Travlo came to visit him as he kept watch. She gave him the customary reward a wife gives a husband when he has done a good job. No, this wasn't a bad life at all. Trelo tried once again to reward him the next night. She got to hug and cuddle but that was it. He now knew the phrase, "Not fair."

The girls saved the head because they wanted the long neck tendons. The antlers made two nice bowls and lots of small pieces of horn that would be made into tools. The bladder would hold water. Rod didn't want to know what the gall bladder was for, but girls had plans for everything. The hooves he wanted. Boil them, dry them, grind them, mix in some pine resin, and you get pretty good glue. Rod wanted glue for arrows before he ran out of ammunition. He just didn't want the secret of bows out before he could pick a side.

Rod began to practice martial art every day. He could improve his quickness and power but without a partner his timing would fade. Nonetheless, he practiced everyday at dusk, then he would take a quick dip in the cold river before he watched over the drying meat during the night.