The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [238]
Kimeran let his mind wander back to the Second Cave of the Zelandonii and hoped everyone was doing well in his absence … but perhaps not too well. He wouldn’t want them to do better without his leadership. That could imply that he wasn’t a very good leader. Jondecam was thinking about his sister, Camora, and wishing she lived closer. Levela, his mate, had said as much the night before.
The sounds of hooves pounding toward them caught everyone’s attention. The two young men on either side of the long pile of wood looked at Willamar. He was holding up his hand but looking the other way, getting ready to signal. They both had a piece of flint in one hand and iron pyrite in the other, getting ready to strike them together, hoping they wouldn’t fumble. They were all adept at making fire that way, but excitement could delay the procedure. The rest all had spear-throwers armed and ready.
As they started down the dry streambed, one wily old cow tried to turn aside but Wolf anticipated the move. He raced toward the bovine and, with a frightening show of teeth, snarled at the huge bison. It took the apparent path of least resistance and headed down the streambed.
Just then, Willamar gave the signal. Palidar struck first and his spark caught. He bent lower to blow it up into flame. It took Tivonan a second try, but he soon had a fire blazing toward the middle of the streambed. As the two fires joined, the larger dry wood flared up in back of the tinder. As soon as they were sure the fire was well established, they raced toward the higher ground, arming their throwing weapons on the way.
The other hunters were ready. The fire had already caused the bison to slow down in bawling confusion. They didn’t want to run into the fire, but the ones at the rear of the stampeding herd were pushing them on.
The spears started to fly!
The air was full of wooden shafts with sharp flint points. Each hunter had selected a different animal to aim for and carefully watched it through the smoke and dust. When they cast a second spear, most were aimed at the same bison as the first. They had been hunting all summer along the way and all of their skills had improved.
Jondalar sighted a bull with a high humped back covered with shaggy wool, and long sharp black horns. His first spear brought it down and a second kept it there. He quickly rearmed his spear-thrower and aimed for a cow but just wounded it.
Ayla’s first spear found a young bull, not quite full grown. She watched it drop, then saw Jondalar’s spear hit the cow. It staggered but didn’t fall. She flung another spear at the wounded one, and saw it stumble. The first of the herd were breaking through the firewall. The rest were following, leaving behind their fallen brethren.
It was over.
It had happened so quickly, it was hard to believe. The hunters went to check the kills; nine bleeding bison littered the streambed. When they examined their spears, Willamar, Palidar, Tivonan, Jonokol, Kimeran, and Jondecam had each killed one animal. Jondalar and Ayla together had killed three.
“I didn’t expect us to be quite so successful,” Jonokol said, checking the marks on the spear to make sure the animal was his. “Maybe we should have coordinated our hunt beforehand. This is too much of a good thing.”
“It’s true, we didn’t need so many,” Willamar said, “but it means we have more to share. It won’t go to waste.” He always liked to bring something when he arrived at a new Cave.
“But how are we going to haul them all? Three horses can’t pull nine huge bison on pole-drags,” Palidar said. The young man’s spear had hit a huge bull and he wasn’t even sure how to begin to move the beast, much less the rest of them.
“I think someone is going to have to go ahead to the next Cave and bring some people back to help. I don’t think they’ll mind. They won’t even have to hunt them,” Jondalar said. He had been thinking along the same lines as Palidar, but he had more experience with such enormous beasts and knew that many hands made it easier.
“You’re right,” Jondecam