The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [87]
Zoug stepped back and shot a piercing look at the arrogant young man. Everyone stopped and stared, and Brun was glaring. He did not like Broud’s cavalier treatment of the clan’s best marksman. He had told Zoug to train the boy, not Broud. It’s one thing to show an interest in the youngster, Brun thought, but he’s carrying it too far. Vorn should learn from the best and Broud knows the sling is not his best weapon. He needs to learn that a good leader must utilize the skills of every man. Zoug is the most skilled and he will have time to teach the boy when the rest of us are hunting. Broud is becoming overbearing; he’s too proud. How can I give him a higher rank if he doesn’t show better judgment? He needs to learn he’s not so important just because he will be leader, just because he will be leader.
Broud took the sling from the lad and picked up a stone. He inserted it in the pocket of the sling and hurled it toward the post. It landed short of the mark. That was the most common problem men of the clan had with the sling. They had to learn to compensate for the limitation of their arm joints that prevented a full-swinging arc. Broud was angry at missing and felt a little foolish. He reached for another stone, flung it hurriedly, wanting to show he could do it. He was aware that he was being watched by everyone. The sling was shorter than he was accustomed to, and the stone went far to the left, still short of the post.
“Are you trying to teach Vorn or do you want a few lessons yourself, Broud?” Zoug gestured derisively. “I could move the post closer.”
Broud fought to restrain his temper—he didn’t like being the object of Zoug’s ridicule and he was angry that he kept missing after he’d made such an issue of it. He cast another stone, this time overcompensating and sending it far beyond the post.
“If you’ll wait until I’m through with the boy’s lesson, I’ll be glad to give you one,” Zoug motioned, heavy sarcasm showing in his stance. “It looks like you could use it.” The proud old man was feeling vindicated.
“How can Vorn learn on a rotten old sling like this?” Broud flared defensively, throwing the leather strap down with disgust. “No one could throw a stone with that worn-out old thing. Vorn, I’ll make you a new sling. You can’t be expected to learn on an old man’s used-up sling. He can’t even hunt anymore.”
Now Zoug was angry. Retirement from the ranks of the active hunters was always a blow to a man’s pride, and Zoug had worked hard to perfect his skill with the difficult weapon to retain a measure of it. Zoug had once been second-in-command like the son of his mate, and his pride was especially tender.
“It’s better to be an old man, than a boy who thinks he’s a man,” Zoug countered, reaching for the sling at Broud’s feet.
The slur on his manhood was more than Broud could bear, it was the last straw. He could contain himself no longer and gave the old man a shove. Zoug was unbalanced, caught off guard, and fell down heavily. He sat where he landed, his legs stretched out in front of him, looking up with wide-eyed surprise. It was the last thing he’d expected.
Hunters of the Clan never attacked each other physically; such punishment was reserved for women who couldn’t understand more subtle reproaches. Exuberant energies of young men were drained off with supervised wrestling bouts, or running-and-spear-thrusting competitions, or sling and bola meets that also served to increase hunting skills. Skill in hunting and self-discipline were the measure of manhood in the Clan that depended on cooperation for survival. Broud was almost as surprised as Zoug at his own rashness, and as soon as he realized what he had done, his face turned red with embarrassment.
“Broud!” The word came out of the leader’s mouth in a restrained roar. Broud looked up and cringed. He had never seen Brun so angry. The leader approached him, planting his feet firmly with each step, his gestures clipped and tightly controlled.
“This childish display of temper is inexcusable! If you were not already the lowest-ranked hunter, I