Bonesetter 3 -summer- (Bonesetter series) Page 7

  Pell nodded, “Woday and I both threw a bunch of rocks yesterday. We got a lot better, right Woday?”

  Woday winced a little, but he did give an affirmative nod. I’m sure Pell got a lot better than Woday did, Yadin thought.

  It seemed like everyone in the tribe was clamoring for an opportunity to try the throwing stick, so Yadin handed it back. Deltin was at the front of the group reaching hands out for it. Pell held up the stick and spoke as if to its spirit, “Try not to think about all the mean things Deltin said while he was mocking you yesterday.”

  Woday and Deltin both laughed. Deltin’s first throw flew completely above the bare area on the side of the ravine. His second throw was much better.

  Yadin wanted to study the throwing motions people were making with the stick. He hoped to understand it better before he tried to practice any more himself. However, Pell tapped him on the shoulder and pulled him a little to the side. “Now that you’ve seen how the stone thrower works, can you give me your thoughts on a spear thrower? For some reason, when you asked me if the long skinny sticks we brought in to make the smoke guide were for spears, I immediately imagined throwing them with a stick.”

  Yadin frowned, “Why not a regular spear?”

  “I think regular spears’d be too heavy.” He turned and started walking back towards the big flat rocks on the other side of the ravine. Woday followed him, so Yadin did as well. Pell continued, “Come look at the stones I like to throw by hand in comparison to the stones we’ve been throwing with the stick.”

  The big flat rocks had two piles of stones on top of them. One pile had only smaller round river stones like they’d been throwing with the stick. The other pile held larger less regular stones. Pell picked up one of each and hefted them in his hands, then held them out to Yadin. “The bigger stones are the size I like to throw by hand. The ones that we’ve been throwing with the stick are smaller, yet somehow they feel about right when you throw them with the stick. I think if you tried to throw that bigger rock with the stick it would… I don’t know… feel wrong. It’d be too heavy, or something. What do you think?”

  Yadin frowned, weighing the stones in his own hands. “I don’t know why it would make a difference.”

  “You don’t think there’s a certain size of stone that’s best for throwing?”

  “Yeah,” Yadin said uncertainly.

  “Wouldn’t that smaller stone be clumsy to throw?”

  “Yeah, but… maybe the bigger stone would be perfect for the throwing stick like it is for your hand?”

  Pell frowned down at the two rocks. “I guess you’re right, we should try it. I’ll go get in line to use the throwing stick.” As he moved that way, he looked around at the group, “Too bad no one brought a spear with them. Before we can try throwing a regular spear with the throwing stick, I’ll have to run back and get one.”

  Saying, “I’ll get one.” Woday turned and trotted away down the ravine.

  When Pell stepped up to the back of the line that was waiting to use the throwing stick, Tando said, “Hey, Pell’s here. Let him up to the front of the line. None of you guys are any good, so I want to see him throw another one.”

  With some laughter the people in the line stepped a little to the side and waved Pell up to the front again. Donte’d just finished throwing and had given the stick to Deltin. Deltin handed it to Pell.

  Pell said, “Sorry, this’ll just take a moment. Yadin thinks we should try throwing a heavier stone to see how it compares.” He handed one of the large stones and one of the small rounded stones that fit the thrower to Yadin and waved him up to the spot everyone had been throwing from.

  Yadin said, “You should go first. I don’t have much experience with the throwing stick.”

  “Okay,” Pell said, stepping up to the throwing spot himself. He positioned a bigger rock in the cup, then paused, looking at it. “This bigger rock doesn’t fit the cup well. It might not work at all unless we make a throwing stick with a bigger cup.” Nonetheless, he took a step and threw the stone. The stone wobbled across the ravine to hit the bank about an arms-length below the skull-stone. It wasn’t clear whether the wobbling was because it came out of the cup oddly, or because the stone’s odd shape made the tumbling more visible. What was obvious though, was that it traveled more slowly. Pell turned to Yadin and said, “It’s harder to throw and doesn’t go as fast, but maybe it hits harder because the rock’s bigger?”

  Pensively, Yadin said, “Throw one of the smaller stones too so we can compare. You’re trying to hit the skull-rock, right?”

  Pell shrugged, “Uh-huh.” He put one of the smaller round rocks in the cup, then turned and threw. The stone shot across the ravine and actually hit the skull-rock, shattering when it did so. He turned to Yadin, apparently unaware of the gape-eyed looks the rest of the tribe was giving him after that throw. “I can certainly throw the small one faster. But I still think you’re right, we don’t know whether the big one hits harder.” He held the stick out, “You try it.”

  Yadin threw one of each, appalled by how far he missed the skull stone and hoping everyone thought he just hadn’t really taken aim. The bigger stone definitely took a lot more effort to throw, yet still seemed to go slower.

  Woday’d just jogged back up with a regular sized practice spear. Yadin, fearing someone might suggest he throw some more stones with the stick said, “Shall we try throwing the spear?”

  Everyone reacted positively to this idea. Deltin tried to hand the throwing stick back to Yadin. Pell said, “No, Deltin. You can keep throwing stones with that one. We’re going to try this other stick for throwing spears. Pell held out the stick he’d said was made from a broken ax handle.

  Yadin looked at it, then the stone throwing stick that Deltin was holding out. “Why wouldn’t we just use the stone throwing stick for spears as well?”

  Pell pointed at the stick in Deltin’s hand, “When that one’s cocked back and ready to throw, the cup’s facing the wrong way to push a spear. On this one,” he held up the broken ax handle, “the cup’s still facing forward when you’re cocked back to throw.” He shrugged, “It still might not work, but I’m not sure how you’d even try to get the stone thrower to throw spears.”

  Yadin looked back and forth between the two throwers and saw what Pell meant. However, he didn’t want to be the first to try throwing one. “You go first.”

  Pell stepped up near Deltin who’d just thrown a couple more stones. Deltin’s throws had badly missed to hoots of derision from those who hadn’t tried it yet.

  Pell hooked the butt of the regular spear into the cup on the broken axe handle and laid it on top of the spear throwing stick. There he could hold the spear on top of the stick with his forefinger. After several partial throws to get a feel for the weight, he heaved the spear with a grunt.

  The big spear flew across the ravine and stuck into the lower part of the wall. That was quite an accomplishment by itself. Yadin didn’t think most men could throw a spear that far, though that might be because most men weren’t as big and strong as Pell. Nonetheless, Yadin had to admit that the flight of the spear wasn’t all that impressive in comparison to the way most men threw them.

  Yadin held one of the long slender poles out to Pell. Pell took it, hooked the back end into the cup of the throwing stick and slashed forward. This time there was no grunting and the pole whizzed across the ravine to plunge deep into the dirt of the wall a half arm’s-length above the skull. “Spirits of the dead!” Yadin cursed, hearing similar oaths muttered by the other men.

  Pell looked down at the throwing stick, his own eyes a little wide. “The slender pole was a lot easier to throw.” He looked across the ravine to where the back end of the pole was still quivering, “And I think it flew pretty well too.”

  “I’ll say,” Yadin muttered quietly.

  Thoughtfully, Pell said, “You had a great idea there.”

  I didn’t have an idea about the spears! Yadin thought. But the rest of the
tribe was looking at him admiringly, so he didn’t protest aloud.

  He felt guilty though, so he said, “You should ask Deltin to help you find stiffer shafts for the throwing spears. I’ll make some flint points.”

  ***

  Over the next few days, all the men and several of the women spent time practicing with throwing sticks. Deltin stayed busy fashioning more throwing sticks since each person wanted to have his or her own. Members of the tribe spent time down at the stream picking out suitable round stones to fit their own particular throwing stick. The bar of the river where Pell and Woday had first collected stones soon ran out of appropriate sizes for the men, although, since the women tended to prefer slightly smaller stones, they were still finding some.

  The men started going up and down Cold Springs ravine looking for their own stones. Manute made leather pouches so people could always have 3 to 5 stones on them.

  Once Deltin had made throwing sticks for everyone, he turned to choosing the best kind of wood for throwing-stick spears. He, Pell and Yadin spent time up in the practice area throwing different poles he’d made and straightened to determine which wood made the best kind.

  By the time this was done, everyone was so antsy to get their own spear thrower and spears that Deltin took them out, showed them the kind of trees that he thought were the best and told them to take axes and get their own. Soon, any of the men with free time were sitting out on the ledge in front of the cave, heating crooks in their spear shafts over a little fire and bending them over a rock to straighten them. They scraped bark off of them and fire hardened points on some to use for practice.

  They tipped the best ones with flint points.

  Yadin and his flint knapping apprentice Falin stayed busy making points for the new spears. Provided the opportunity to make many of the smaller spear points that fit the throwing spears, Falin became fairly facile at making them and took great pride in having his points mounted on the older men’s spears.

  The throwing spear points were smaller than the ones that went on the spears they normally used. Their heavy regular spears stayed in their hands for the most part, serving as a defense from animals.

  When hunting, the men usually carried two spears, one which they held onto for defense, and another which they might throw a short distance when they got close to an animal. They were naturally reluctant to get close enough to stab some of the big animals with the defensive spear they kept in their hands, because it was easy to get injured by the thrashing of injured large animals and, of course, some of the animals would outright attack. Since they usually only threw the spear one, or possibly two body lengths, it was unusual to miss a large animal.

  Getting close enough to throw the heavy spears was difficult though. The men were excited about the possibility of hunting from a longer distance using the new spears and spear-throwers.

  ***

  Teda walked back to the Aldans’ cave, feeling deep despair. Last fall her husband Bonat had been killed. Then her son Boro had been cast out of the tribe. She’d thought surely her son would die. Telling him to try joining Pell, Donte and Tando at Cold Springs had seemed the most ludicrous of desperation moves. She’d thought the chances they’d take him in were exceedingly remote, since the Cold Springs tribe was so small they’d likely all die that winter, even if they didn’t take someone in.

  Then, to her complete astonishment, it turned out that the Cold Springs tribe was much better off than the Aldans had ever been, to say nothing of how bad off the Aldans themselves had been at the onset of last winter. They not only taken in her son, but Boro’s old friend Pell had been the one who’d come to teach the Aldans how to get through the winter.

  When Pell had come at the end of winter to bring the Aldans some more of the spirit meat Teda’d been ecstatic with joy. Her son not only survived the winter but seemed to thrive at Cold Springs. The only thing left to complete the turnaround of her life was for her to join her son there.

  When she’d asked Pell if she could go back with him Cold Springs she’d been horrified to hear him claim he had to ask an old woman’s permission. Just from his size, he had to be the actual leader at Cold Springs. In addition, from everything she’d heard, everyone there revered him. His claim that he wasn’t the leader at Cold Springs had to simply be his way of denying her. She’d extracted a promise that he’d ask if she could join his new tribe, but it’d been a moon now with no word.

  She’d decided it wasn’t going to happen.

  She’d been feeling abandoned. So sad that she was thinking more and more of throwing herself off the cliff where Durr killed himself years ago. Glancing down at the armful of spring greens she’d harvested out gathering today, she wondered why she’d even brought them back to the cave. She’d gone gathering by herself, thinking that perhaps a big predator would kill her, saving her the difficulty of jumping off the cliff.

  She reached the fork in the path, one limb of which continued on to the cave. The other would take her up to the cliff. She hesitated a moment, then, out of a sense of duty, decided she’d take the greens up to the cave for the other members of her tribe. Then I’ll go to the cliff, she thought.

  Entering the cave, she took the greens over and set them down near the fire. The women who cooked the evening meal would find them there. As she turned despondently to leave, she heard a familiar voice say, “Mom? Aren’t you even going to say hello?”

  She turned, heart in her throat.

  Boro!

  My son’s come for me!

  She rushed to throw her arms around him, marveling at the muscle she felt. The last time she’d hugged him he’d been no more than skin and bones.

  ***

  Getting ready to make leather, Manute was out on the ledge in front of the cave. He’d started scraping fur off one side of a skin when two strangers arrived. He first saw them stepping from stone to stone as they crossed the stream. This surfaced a bad memory of the Oppos doing that when they came to attack the Cold Springs tribe at the beginning of winter.

  But these two didn’t look threatening. In fact, there was something wrong with one of them. As they climbed the near bank and started across the meadow, Manute saw that the younger one gripped his right elbow with his left hand—as if he were protecting it.

  Although the injured one didn’t look like he could be dangerous, the other man carried three spears. Manute was alone, so he got up and stepped to the door of the cave, reaching in for one of the spears they kept leaning there in case of attack. For a moment he considered a throwing stick or spear thrower instead. But the strangers wouldn’t recognize them as weapons. If they didn’t look like weapons, they wouldn’t serve as much of a deterrent.

  Besides, the throwers were for hunting, or perhaps for fighting at a distance. Attacking the strangers at a distance when one of them looked like he’d been injured didn’t seem fair.

  The two men stopped about five body lengths away. The healthy one gestured to the hurt one and said, “Jomay’s broken his elbow. Is this the Bonesetter’s cave?”

  Manute nodded, “You’ve come to the right place, but he’s not here. Do you want to sit down and wait?”

  The injured youth shook his head in frustration, “No Sandro! I’ve been dreading this for five days. I want to get it over with!”

  The healthy man—Sandro apparently—turned to Manute, “Can you tell us where he is?”

  Manute shrugged and turned, starting along the ledge, “I’ll take you where I think they are, though I can’t be sure they actually went where I thought they were going.”

  “They?” Sandro said. ‘You have more than one bonesetter?”

  “He has an apprentice,” Manute said, stepping down off the ledge at its lower end. He thought Pell and Woday had gone downstream to check their fish baskets. The baskets had been starting to bring in more and more food. He angled across the meadow in that direction.

  Plaintively, Jomay asked, “What if we miss them?

  “If we miss them, we
miss them. Do you want to wait at the cave?” Sandro asked patiently.

  “No,” Jomay said, sounding petulant.

  Manute looked over at Jomay, thinking that he didn’t like the young man’s attitude. Then his eye caught on the elbow which looked grotesquely deformed, with a big lump sticking out of the back of it. I guess I’d probably be pretty irritable if that were my elbow, he thought. He asked, “Where are you guys from?”

  “Far to the west. A little farther down the big river than the falls, if you’ve heard of them. Word came out to us that a master bonesetter lived here in the east where a cold stream entered the river. Our medicine man couldn’t straighten Jomay’s arm, so we started the next morning.” Sandro gave Manute a considering look, “Is he as good as they say?”

  After a moment’s pause, Manute said, surprised to hear his own voice crack, “Better…” He wanted to continue, but his throat had closed up. After swallowing a couple of times, he rasped out, “He saved my little brother, Falin, by straightening his broken leg. A woman from my former tribe, Panute, came here with a broken leg and an arm with the wound fever…”

  “Spirits!” Sandro said, “No one can save someone with wound fever, can they?!”

  “Pell did,” Manute said, overcome with emotion at the thought of just how unlikely it’d seemed. “And then, when we were attacked, he… he treated the people that attacked us.”

  “What?”

  Manute nodded, “A broken leg and a broken arm.”

  “Why?! They were your enemies!”

  Manute shrugged, thinking he barely understood it himself, “Now, because of Pell’s kindness, they’re our friends…”

  Sandro looked puzzled, “How did they break their bones?”

  “Pell threw a stone that hit the one man in the arm. The other fell in the stream while he was fleeing. He caught his leg in between some rocks.”

  “Oh,” Sandro said, appearing sobered by the story.