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  The others were soaked to their armpits.

  In fact, Gia didn’t even carry her own pack for fear it would get wet. Pell made two trips back across so he could carry his pack and Gia’s. Yadin carried Karteri across on his back, not because she was afraid of the water like Valri but because they were worried that in her weakened state she might be washed away.

  Manute carried Quen across in the same fashion and looked quite pleased to be doing it. When he set her down on the near side of the river she clung to him for a moment as she said her thanks.

  Manute looked a little dazed by Quen’s attention. Looking at her with new eyes, Valri recognized that Quen was quite pretty. It was probably the reason she’d been captured by the sea people in the first place.

  Living there she’d been sick with malnutrition and actively trying to look unattractive—but her true self was beginning to show through now. Valri hoped that Manute could be patient in wooing her since, after her experiences with the sea people, Quen probably didn’t like men much.

  ***

  They didn’t immediately go to the trading area at River Fork. Instead, they went past it to collect trade goods the Cold Springs people had hidden. Valri was frankly astonished by just how much they’d brought in the way of goods. She’d seen a travois and knew how much one could carry so she could hardly believe they had four of them.

  When they arrived at the trading area, there were people from Cold Springs there already. As they walked into the area, a woman leaped up and ran to them, throwing her arms around Pell and Gia. “Where’ve you been?! You were supposed to be here days ago! I’ve been worrying so much that last night I started trying to organize a group to go after you.”

  Pell laughed, introduced Valri to his mother and laughingly laid all the blame for any delays at Valri’s feet. Valri was attempting to protest her innocence when Falin came around a tree, saw her and shrieked with delight. Unfortunately, he was heartbroken when he learned they hadn’t found two of his young friends from Aganstribe’s cave.

  To Valri’s amazement, the members of the Cold Springs tribe who were already there had brought even more travois full of goods when they made the trip. Their goods traded high. Not because they were of unusually good quality, but because the Cold Springs people were trading things that no one else had. In fact, they were trading goods that no one else had even heard of.

  They were trading baskets like Woday had been carrying. Baskets that could be baited and left in the river for a while. Just like his, when you returned, they’d have fish in them. Apparently, no one had believed this claim at first. But then, day after day, the Cold Springs people were seen returning from the river with fish or even crayfish in such baskets. People accused them of spearing fish and putting them in the baskets and had to be shown that the fish had no wounds. Some traders were only satisfied after they’d sat out at the river, watching a basket as the sun moved several fists, trying to be sure no one inserted fish into it.

  They were also trading baskets that caught birds, as long as you were willing to give up a little grain to bait the trap.

  They traded salt. They traded smoked meat. Those were things Valri had already learned about, but they were also trading dried fruit. Fruit they claimed to have harvested the previous summer and fall, but was still edible!

  Other traders asked how it was that they had a constant supply of small game to eat. The people from Cold Springs offered to show anyone how to set “snares” so that they could catch their own small game, but since they weren’t trying to trade for anything in return, only a few took them up on the offer.

  Traders seemed to be of the opinion that anything given away for free couldn’t be of much value.

  The thing that traded the highest though, was what they called a hafted axe. At first Valri didn’t understand why. It just seemed to be a hand axe on the end of a stick. She couldn’t fathom why anyone would particularly want one. However, when the men demonstrated how hard it could hit, she was as amazed as everyone else. She didn’t need something that could cut down trees, but everyone used hand axes and she could easily see how hitting harder with a hafted axe would be of immense value.

  The people of Cold Springs were developing a problem in that their goods were trading so high they wouldn’t be able to fit all the goods they’d obtained onto their travois. They’d already been taking only the highest quality goods in trade. All the members of the tribe were being fitted with excellent clothing by the traders who cut and sewed leather. They’d traded for some excellent pottery and large coils of cord and rope.

  Nonetheless, they were having to make yet another travois to help carry everything back.

  Shortly before they left to return to Cold Springs, Pell traded dearly for a small egg-shaped piece of rock called marcasite. Another trader had offered it to him after showing it to him in the dark one evening. When firmly scraped with a piece of flint, tiny sparks flew off it. Valri didn’t understand why Pell was so interested, after all, much larger sparks flew off any fire you might sit by at night. These tiny sparks were so small they were hard to see if it wasn’t dark, but Pell seemed to be extraordinarily pleased with the trade.

  ***

  Arriving back at Cold Springs was an occasion of great joy. Valri saw Agan, Deltin, and Panute. They’d known Hargis survived the flood, but were excited to learn that Canna, Karteri, and Valri had also lived.

  To Valri’s amazement, no one seemed to be upset about the extra mouths they’d brought home. People who’d need to be fed the next winter. They may just be holding their complaints until the good mood of this celebration has faded, she warned herself.

  Valri learned about the injuries Panute had suffered in the flood when a log crushed her leg and hand. With dismay, Valri realized that it may well have been Panute she’d heard screaming when the tree she’d been riding had run aground. The fact that Panute survived wound fever and that her broken leg had healed nearly straight was much more astonishing though. “Who took care of you?” Valri asked, assuming that Agan’s wisdom had been responsible for Panute’s survival from wound fever and that Cold Springs’ famous bonesetter had healed her leg.

  Looking awestruck, Panute said reverently, “Pell.”

  Wide eyed, Valri felt a shiver run down her spine. “Pell?”

  Panute nodded, “Yes, you know, the Bonesetter.”

  Valri turned to look at Pell, talking to some of the others. “Pell’s the Bonesetter?”

  Panute nodded, “You didn’t know?”

  Valri slowly shook her head. “Where did he learn… bonesetting, or whatever it is he does?” To herself she thought, Bonesetting doesn’t include treating wound fever, does it?

  With a shrug, Panute said, “Apparently he dislocated his own finger, then put it back by accident when his tribe’s medicine man couldn’t. He says it’s ‘just a trick’ he learned to do… but I think it’s much more than that.” She went on to describe how Pell had thought of cutting off Panute’s bad fingers to cure the wound fever.

  And she started telling Valri about some of Pell’s other ideas.

  Valri had to interrupt, “The hafted axe was his idea too?!”

  Panute nodded, “And that’s not all…”

  Gia, Donte, and Teda took the newcomers into the cave to work out where they might sleep and keep their belongings. Valri had noticed Teda spending much of her time wherever Hargis was. They were of an age and had both lost mates recently, so it wasn’t surprising. Teda was pointing out the empty spots where Woday and Gurix’d been sleeping when Hargis exclaimed, “This isn’t a cave at all is it?”

  Soon, they were all over to the side of the cave, examining the mud and wattle wall that closed off a shallow cave to make it into a deep one. Gia pointed out another structure over the fire pit, constructed in the same fashion. She called it a smoke guide or chimney. “It’s warm, so we aren’t burning a fire in here today,” Gia said, “But come winter, you’ll be amazed by the way the smoke blows itself up the c
himney rather than floating out around the cave, making people cough and get watery eyes.”

  As Gia was explaining where everyone slept and she and Donte were discussing the best locations for the new people, Quen asked where Manute slept, making Valri happy to realize that the pretty former slave might be as interested in Manute as he seemed to be in her.

  As they were about to exit the cave, Gia said, “Does anyone know where Pell is? I haven’t seen him for a while.”

  Donte pointed back into the depths of the cave.

  Gia snorted, “With Ginja?”

  Donte nodded, leaving Valri wondering what Pell would be doing with something useless, or “ginja,” or perhaps whether he was visiting someone back there and they were insulting that person by calling them useless? Gia gave a little laugh and said, “I guess I’d better go back for a visit myself.” She bent over and picked up a lamp, taking it outside, presumably to light it at the fire.

  Valri leaned closer to Donte and said, “Ginja?”

  Donte smiled and nodded, “You should go back with Gia. You can pay your own respects to Ginja.”

  Valri looked up to find Hargis, Quen, Canna, and Karteri all looking confused as well. Gia came back in with the lamp, now lit, and Valri timidly said, “Donte says we should go back with you… to pay our respects to… to Ginja?”

  Gia laughed, “Sure, come with me.” She started back into the depths of the cave, holding her lamp off to one side so that they could see where they were putting their feet.

  Valri felt Karteri take her hand for guidance in the dark and assumed that the others were doing the same. Quietly she asked, “Who’s Ginja?”

  Gia giggled, “Pell’s first mate,” pausing long enough for Valri to realize with dismay that Pell already had two mates. And that even the beautiful Gia had come in second. This dashed her faint hope that perhaps she could be the handsome Pell’s second mate. Then Gia continued, “Ginja and Pell were the ones that founded Cold Springs.”

  Valri had another moment to think wonderingly that Ginja, whoever she was, must be much older. Pell himself was far too young to be the tribe’s founder.

  Then they were there. There was another lamp burning. Evidently Pell had brought it back when he’d come. Pell lay sprawled on some furs next to… A huge wolf!

  Valri felt so dumbfounded on finding Pell lying there, blissfully scratching a huge wolf behind the ear that it took her some time to realize the wolf was nursing pups. Then one of the pups rose to its feet and ambled her way. As Valri stood frozen in panic, the pup rubbed itself against her leg.

  Warm and soft, the tiny wolf opened her heart and stepped inside. She knelt and scratched it behind an ear like she’d seen Pell doing for its mother.

  Pell said, “You can take him outside if you want.”

  With trembling hands, Valri picked up the little wolf.

  ***

  That evening they held a ceremony to mourn those members of Aganstribe who hadn’t survived. They prayed to the spirits for the souls of their absent friends. They also prayed that they might someday find more survivors, though no one actually believed they would.

  After the ceremony was done and everyone was relaxing and getting ready to sleep, Valri found herself still practically vibrating with excitement. She went out of the cave, thinking she’d look up at the stars and ponder the recent changes in her life. As she stood there in the dark, she heard a scratching sound. When she turned, she saw a shadow that had to be Pell sitting on the ledge. He had his marcasite and flint and was scraping the flint down a groove he’d worn in the stone. He did this again and again, sometimes slow, sometimes fast sometimes striking the two together. She assumed he was watching the sparks that were generated. Feeling a little guilty, she sat down next to him and said, “Why are you so fascinated with the little rock and the sparks it makes?”

  In the dim light, she could barely tell he’d looked up at her. But when he spoke, his tone didn’t hide a barely restrained excitement. “What if the sparks are little fires?” he asked.

  Valri tilted her head curiously, “Little fires?”

  She could faintly see his head nod up and down. “What if we could get one of those tiny fires to catch in some tinder? Could we nurture it into a big fire?”

  She stared at his shadowy figure, wanting to laugh or outright ridicule the notion.

  Then she remembered how, over the past couple of days, she’d learned that Pell was the one who figured out how to gather the salt they were trading. Pell had figured out how to smoke meat. The basket traps for birds and fish were his ideas, as were the snares the Cold Springs tribe used to bring in so much small game.

  Earlier in the day, Donte’d shown Valri where grain was growing in the meadow and told her it hadn’t grown there before. She’d explained Pell’s theory that the grain plants grew from the actual grain. Donte said they had grape vines growing from grape seeds in a new location up the ravine; and that Pell thought they might be able to get grapes, grains, and apples to grow wherever they wanted them to.

  They said Pell invented the spear throwers that had enabled her rescue…

  Her thoughts paused as Pell suddenly stopped scraping and leaned down low. In the dim light, she couldn’t really see what he was doing, but thought she heard him gently blowing.

  Valri knelt and leaned her head down in hopes she’d be able to see what he was looking at.

  A flame burned there…

  The End

  Hope you liked the book!

  Author’s Afterword

  This is a comment on the “science” in this science fiction novel (many would consider this “prehistoric fiction,” but as an important part of this story is the discovery of new—to them—technology, I think it also fits into science fiction). I’ve always been partial to science fiction that posed a “what if” question. Instead Bonesetter 3 -summer- continues to pose “hows” and “maybes” with regards to how technologies might have been worked out in ancient times.

  Surely geniuses like Einstein, Newton, Galileo, Da Vinci, and Pythagoras have not merely graced the human race since the onset of recorded history. What innovations might such a brilliant mind have been responsible for back in prehistoric times?

  The heating of a column of air in a chimney causes the air to rise, sucking room air into the fireplace. This has the benefit of fanning the flames and carrying smoke up the chimney instead of out into the room. Unfortunately, for those who’re attempting to heat their dwelling with such a fireplace, it not only pulls smoke out of the room but removes warm air as well (and thus sucking cold air in through the room’s openings to replace it). This is a drawback the Cold Springs tribe hasn’t encountered yet.

  The spear thrower was a powerful innovation that changed the lives of hunters for millennia before anyone came up with the more technologically challenging bow and arrow. Although slings are the commonly described ancient stone throwers, modern day pet owners use throwing sticks to fling tennis balls long distances for their dogs. As in this story, major advances in weaponry have always led to one sided defeats (the bow and arrow over the spear, the armored horseman over infantry, pikemen over armored horse, the long bow over armor, the gun over the arrow, the machine gun over the gun, smart weapons over dumb ones, and atomic weapons over everything else—well, at least so far). I wondered whether even primitive peoples might have had discussions about how a weapon was just too terrible.

  Agriculture certainly didn’t start with fields that were plowed and seeded. Rather, I expect that the prime observation was someone remembering that last year’s seeds or fruits had fallen where this year’s plants were growing. This would have moved on to purposefully dropping such seeds where you wanted the plants, then to actually planting them, tilling soil, watering and, eventually, fertilization.

  Recent studies have shown that about thirty symbols can commonly be found on the walls of caves where primitive peoples lived in Europe. No one knows what the symbols stood for, but they almost certainl
y weren’t letters in an alphabet, nor representative of syllables like some of the hieroglyphs. They probably didn’t even represent certain important words. It’s hard for modern literates to even imagine an inability to leave a message for others, but it would have been a chronic problem for our forebears. In this story, Gia and Pell think about the problem, but essentially recognize it as insurmountable.

  Fire was enormously important to primitive man and the ability to start one yourself had to have been a major advance. Starting them with friction is much more difficult than you might think, and even starting them with a flint and steel isn’t easy if you’re not lighting flammable gas in a modern lighter. When I first considered how this problem might have been solved, I had thought that perhaps it first happened when a primitive man struck flint against a piece of meteoric iron (meteors being early man’s first source of relatively pure iron). However, when I looked into it more I learned that iron doesn’t make sparks, it must be steel because it is the carbon that differentiates steel from iron that burns in creating the sparks. Flint can also strike sparks from pyrites (FeS2). However, the crystalline form of the pyrite matters because the commonly known pyrite called fool’s gold is soft and easily broken. A pyrite called marcasite is better, though starting a fire with it remains more difficult than with steel. If you’re interested, you can see a video of fire being started with marcasite and flint at the Primitive Ways website.

  A final comment on the brutality of the sea people: While their behavior may seem excessively vicious to modern people, the evidence is that primitive people were exceedingly ruthless and inhumane to one another. Actually, the benign behavior of the other tribes in these stories is probably much less representative of the “way things were.” Despite the constant harping in the news about how terrible things are “nowadays,” people are kinder, wars are fewer, torture less common and slavery is currently reduced to lower points than ever before in history. You’ll likely doubt this, but you can refer to the Old Testament to get a feeling for how commonplace mass killings, simple homicide, rape, torture, mass infanticide and enslavement were considered to be in the BC era. For an exhaustive discussion of how much better things have become over the ages, read Steven Pinker’s, The Better Angels of our Nature. The currently famous motto should actually be “Make America Better,” rather than “Make America Great Again.” It’s really never ever been this good before.