Tor realized that it was taking him too long to search upriver to find if his mother went that way. So far on his search of the south bank and its tributaries, he found no one who could tell him that they saw a woman like her or any evidence that she had been there like cultivated wheat or some of her crafts that he could recognize, clothing or cooking utensils and pots. He knew Nila's skills and they were distinguishable from others. Familiar with them since he was a child.

Tor vowed to himself that he would not stay and help any more clans survive from their own inability to deal with the perils of their existence. This part of the Rine was rich in hunting resources but not as rich as Gal and the Valley of the Po where they grew grapes and crops like wheat that his mother had planted on the Rine banks and later, he had as well. The winters were harsher and longer. Men were more brutal. It was the way of nature and of the gods, he could not change it.

His companions didn't mind the fast pace. Both were equipped by nature to run faster than he and longer each day. All Tsen required was an occasional drink of water from the river and time to graze in the evening while Tor made camp for the night. Shin made a sport of catching small animals and bringing them to his master. Acquiring a taste for cooked meat, he always gathered more than he could eat so that Tor did not have to hunt for fresh meat most days, and he was excellent at finding the best mushrooms to eat after Tor showed him what the mushrooms smelled like and gave it a name that Shin could recognize. 

"Shin, go get boca…!" Tor would command and Shin put his nose to work in finding the mushroom delicacy when they stopped to camp at nights. Tor had trained him to find many things like that with his nose, including, he hoped, Nila from the remains of their encampment where they had stayed the winter. That smell would be familiar. It could lead him to her. He hoped beyond hope.

One day about midmorning, Shin alerted him to something ahead. There hadn't been a camp or sign of human activity for some time, so Tor thought it was, about time that they would meet someone again.

When he could smell food cooking and the smoke of campfires ahead, Tor tied his companions again and left the trail to find out what he was up against with these people. What he saw when he got there and peeked from behind some secure cover, was a lot of people busy working around their camp of all ages. The camp looked healthy and, from what he could see, was occupied by about 20 souls. There were no signs of belligerence.

Tor retreated to where he had tied his companions and then proceeded on the riverside trail directly into that camp, once again raising his hands in the sign of greeting and peace. He won over the children first with his massive steed getting their attention and then, the others, looking for a white-haired spokesman.

Once again, no one answered his calls except in a language Tor did not know. Once again, gestures were used. A dark haired elder came forth from the crowd of people that gathered around Tsen. His name, as near as Tor could make out, was Ork. Their tributary led into the mountains and beyond to a pass to lands beyond that. Ork explained, "We trade with." And, "There, we have seen horses like this…" He smiled broadly, evidently approving of Tor taming such a beast, patting Tsen's neck. Showing, once again, that elders had trouble keeping their teeth.

A great party ensued and they feasted on Ibex. The great goat that Tor had not tasted since he last left the mountains cycles of seasons before. It was a pleasant change along with fermented goats milk that was something he had not tasted quite like this one. Ork showed him some of the amulets, horsehair blankets and superior arrows that they had traded with the people on the high steppes far to the east. Tor showed them his copper ax, comb and arrowheads. These clansman were impressed, but there was nothing to trade. Just something they wanted him to do.

Once again, he was invited to share a bed with, this time, an unmarried woman that was carefully selected because the elders wanted his handsome strength among their children. She was pleasant enough, but Tor had experienced better. The warmth of that night after he had over eaten, didn't help. So they spent most of the night separated, but naked, on top of the bison robe Tor had for his bed.

To be polite, Tor stayed two more nights and shared stories of his travels by gestures. When they did not believe his story of killing the great cave bear. He went to his bag and pulled out three of the bear's claws. It made believers of them when they saw their great length and lethal ability… Especially when Tor took one of them and traced the scar on his stitched arm that was still red from its recent healing.

Once again, Ork had another woman he had offered his bed to plead vehemently for him not to leave. And, once again, Tor emphasized that he needed to find his mother, however long it took and however far he had to go to find her. They could give him no evidence that she had passed this way, so he left after bathing and eating in the early morning light of the third morning.

Soon, the mighty Rine split into three tributaries of little consequence. Each one appearing to wind up into hilly terrain and perhaps, mountains beyond. Tor had no way of knowing. As was his plan, he followed the first tributary to the right. This stream quickly found higher elevation and began rushing over rocks. Tor found the higher elevation and the cooler nights to be refreshing as the summer sun still beat down during the day. But the trail he was following became merely an animal trail and not one that humans had traveled.

Returning to the point of the triple split, Tor was soon on the middle tributary that had a width and smoothness suggesting human  travel. This tributary was a bit wider and slower flowing than the one he had followed before. It seemed clearly that he was going to follow it to the source of the Rine.

The tracks of animals were most evident, but Tor saw no human tracks and was a bit discouraged because the trail had looked like it had human traffic. Determined, maybe stubborn, he continued to follow the trail for a few suns until he reached the point where a raging waterfall came down off the mountain and was the source of the mighty river he had been searching. There was an inviting pool below the waterfall, teeming with fish in the crystal clear water.

Tor took a swim in the bracing water and caught a couple of beautiful trout with his hands for his evening meal. He was about to make camp on the other side when he saw the signs of an overgrown trail leading to the north. But before he followed the trail, he spotted something on that bank that looked like a log. When he approached it, found that it was a dugout boat that had been turned over so that it wouldn't collect water and rot.

When Tor turned the boat over, underneath were two beautifully carved paddles. Since he would be going downriver for this part of his search, Tor suddenly got the idea to take the river instead of the trails. It would free up Tsen to run free along the bank and he would make much better time because the current would be his friend. Something that prevented him from getting in one of the many boats he had seen already.

But the overgrown trail intrigued him, and with his buddies to sense what was up ahead, Tor followed that trail not very far before an abandoned and burned encampment of some substance was overgrown with tall grass and saplings. There were no implements or tools, indicating that whoever lived there had on purpose, probably because food and fire wood had become hard to come by. The isolation of this clan probably also meant it had little opportunity to trade with other clans. But who knows what the gods require, he thought.

Camping there for the night, Tor planned to move down this tributary quickly and, perhaps paddle partway up the next until the paddling got too difficult.

Copyright 2021 © Ronald W. Hull

5/14/21