The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [115]
There was an interested murmur from the crowd in response. It took time and effort to shape a spear shaft to make it straight so that it would fly true when it was thrown, and there wasn’t a hunter there who hadn’t broken one at the worst possible time.
“You may notice that this spear is somewhat smaller and more lightweight than normal spears,” Jondalar continued.
“That’s it!” Willamar exclaimed. “I knew there was something about that spear that was different, besides the fact that it’s made in two parts. It somehow seems more graceful, almost feminine. Like a ‘Mother’ spear.”
“We discovered that a lighter spear will actually fly better,” Jondalar said.
“But will it pierce?” Brameval said. “It may not go as far, but I’ve found that a spear needs some heft. If it’s too lightweight, it bounces off a thick hide, or breaks the point.”
“I think it’s time for a demonstration,” Jondalar said, picking up his holder and quiver and moving back toward the fallen rocks. He had brought spare shafts and additional detachable points, but they were not all the same. Some were tipped with flint, though each point had a slightly different shape, others were made of a long piece of carved bone, shaped to a sharp point with a base that was split to facilitate attaching to the shorter intermediate shaft. He fitted a few more spears together in readiness while Solaban and Rushemar dragged a target farther away.
“Is this far enough, Jondalar?” Solaban shouted.
Jondalar glanced at Ayla. The wolf had stationed himself beside her. She held her spear-thrower and had a long quiver on her back with extra spears already put together. She smiled at him and he smiled back, but it was a nervous smile. He had decided to begin with a demonstration and then explain and answer questions.
“It will do,” he said. It was well within range, quite close, in fact, but it would do for his first demonstration. He could be more accurate as well. He didn’t have to tell them to stand out of the way. They were all loping back, more than happy to stay clear of a spear cast with the unfamiliar implement. He waited for them to return, and while they were all looking on with expressions ranging from expectant to doubtful, he prepared to throw.
Holding the spear-thrower horizontally in his right hand, with his thumb and index fingers through the two front loops, he quickly slapped a spear into the groove. He slid it back so that the hook of the thrower, which also acted as a backstop, fit into the hole in the fletched butt end, and without hesitation he launched the spear. He did it so quickly, many people hardly noticed the way that the back end of the thrower raised up while he held on to the front with the aid of the loops, effectively adding the length of the spear-thrower to the length of his arm and thereby gaining the advantage of the additional leverage.
What they did see was a spear fly with twice the usual speed and land in the middle of the deer painted on the hide with such force that it penetrated clear through the bundle of grass. To the observers’ surprise, a second spear followed the first with nearly as much force, landing close to the same hole. Ayla had followed Jondalar’s cast with one of her own. There was a stunned silence, and then a babble of questions.
“Did you see that!”
“I didn’t see you throw, can you do it again, Jondalar?”
“That spear nearly went through the target, how did you throw it so hard?”
“Hers went through it, too. What gives them such force?”
“Can I see that thing? What do you call it? A spear-thrower?”
The last questions came from Joharran, and Jondalar gave him the implement. His brother looked it over carefully, even turning it over and noticing the simple carving of a giant deer on the back. It made him smile. He’d seen a similar carving before.
“Not bad, for a flint-knapper,” he said,