French Alps Meadow, circa 3500 BC
Courtesy Rebecca McKeehan and PixaBay.com
As they climbed once more on the well-worn trail, Tsen seemed to be more confident, surefooted, with less flaring of nostrils, whinnying and other signs of distress. It wasn't long before Tor found the cache. It was at an altitude that afforded year-round cold so that bugs would not get into the furs used many seasons. But mountain mice still did, especially if there was any edible meat left on hides.
But since the cache contained many garments placed over the years, Tor threw out the badly chewed ones and selected ones that fit him best to continue on his journey. Properly covered and his trail hardened bare feet in soft fur boots, he once again set out for the heights, enjoying breathing the thin cool air again. Fortunately, his steed and dog did not need a change of clothes with their built-in protection from the cold and wet.
Shin's limp persisted, although the wound was healing nicely. He didn't seem to want to wander widely looking for more marmots or flush birds from their nests. But once in a while, Tor would spot a nest with his young, yet experienced, eyes and he would leave the trail to check out the contents, looking for eggs that he had come to depend upon during breaks on the mountains. Sometimes, he just ate eggs raw when he didn't have fire or time to make one. Small ones could be easily swallowed in the shell. While not pleasant to look at, baby chicks in the shell were considered a delicacy by his people. Part of the ritual of becoming a man was to eat them. Tor hadn't had that ritual yet, and probably wouldn't now that his father was gone. This journey alone was making a man of him, eating unhatched chicks or not.
Another pass was ahead that they crossed over before noon. Tor saw a bear in the distance, but it was digging for food on the mountainside and thankfully not on the trail. Praise the gods. Shin growled low, but stayed with his master. No longer spoiling for a fight after his painful lesson from the boar. Lessons like that would later save his life. If he lived that long. Dog's lives were short. Sometimes eaten by their masters when food could not be found.
They followed a saddle to the next pass and then down into a valley with only a rushing stream of ice cold glacier water to cross before staying under a familiar rocky outcropping where his father had them stop the year before. Tor took off all of his furs, wadded them up and held them high. And then, he braved the raging icy torrent waist high that would have swept him away had he not known exactly where to step and leap. Putting the furs down on the other side, he crossed the raging water back again. Shin was delighted when he came back, whimpering and posturing trying to cross with him, but afraid to.
This time, Tor tied the rawhide rope around Tsen's neck, and then, around his right arm just above the elbow. Picking up Shin in his arms, he started across. The power of the water hit Tor hard, he slipped and was carried by the current. Tor threw Shin to the opposite bank with a painful yelp upon landing as he plunged into the icy water. Luckily, the rope he had tied to Tsen came up short, but stretched, and the force of the water literally threw him back on the side he started from. He was scraped and bruised, but thankful he wasn't washed far down the mountainside. Perhaps, to his death.
Nearly numb from the freezing water crossings, he was bleeding but didn't feel the pain. Tor rested for a minute in the cold air and bright sun, both fighting for their attention. Contemplating how he would be able to lead Tsen across such a torrent that he was now very afraid of. Wanting to go, but snorting and pawing the rocks, instead, Tsen was no help. He was getting colder by the minute and sunburned at the same time, so we had to act quickly.
Tor had only one ploy left. So he used it. Untying the rope from his arm and from Tsen's neck and storing it with his things on the horse's back, he steeled himself against the cold water once more and crossed the torrent, leaving Tsen behind.
Back on the other side, he quickly dressed, painfully picked up Shin and began walking away towards the spot not far away where he would spend the night. Behind him, he could hear Tsen's whinnying and snorting even above the roar of the rushing water. The sound of his hooves scraping on the rock as he postured in frustration over his master leaving him behind. Finally, getting up enough courage, Tsen turned around, ran back up the trail a bit, and turned around again. Galloping towards the water, he cleared the entire torrent with only his forelocks being hit by the water. Dragging the wet rope behind him, he quickly joined his master again.
Thanks to the furs on Tsen's back and his belongings dry, Tor quickly made a fire from embers that morning and fire materials carried on his faithful steed. He made tea and three boiled eggs he shared with Shin. Once again, Tsen had nothing to eat while his companions slept warmly the night with no pesky insects at that altitude.
In the morning, Tor rose stiffly, but knew it was the long downhill trek into the land of Gal. He had to get going if he was going to make it by nightfall. His father and the Thals had a long history with the Gal people who occupied the upper reaches of the Sein like the Thal had occupied the upper reaches of the Rine. There was always exchanges of young captives with these people for goods like gold, silver, copper, sea animals, wine, cheese, spices, medicines, weapons, tools and other valuable articles unavailable along the Rine Valley. Arrival at the Gal camp was always a huge celebration.
Tor had nothing to offer the Gals this time and did not want to waste time with those people, struggling to communicate what happened to his father and other members of the party. There would be no celebrating upon that word and no trading. He might even be suspected. He decided to turn north out of the mountains and not go into their camp at all.
When they reached the greener slopes of lower elevation after the last pass, still locked in snow and ice, Tsen wanted to stop and graze. But Tor, knowing they had a long way to go before camping at a spot he knew of in the forest far below, would not let him. From that height, he could see the valley sprawling out in the sun or as far as he could see. But it was still a long way to go to get there.
And there was something new. Something that Tsen and Shin sensed and gave him a reason to look back behind them. He saw something moving in the distance. As it got closer, Tor realized it was a lone wolf, closing fast on them in broad daylight. This is not what a wolf pack would do, stalk them in the daytime, but he surmised from its gaunt appearance that the wolf was very hungry and knew that Shin was limping, making him, his target.
Stopping a moment, Tor gathered his bow from the back of Tsen with his quiver and got ready to launch an arrow if the wolf got close enough. His right arm was so sore he wasn't sure that he could pull the bowstring all the way back. But he had to be ready try. Kill the wolf with his obsidian knife if he had to. Shin begin whimpering, knowing that he didn't want to fight this time, but interrupting that, to growl, in between whimpers.
They continued walking downhill while Tor kept a watchful eye while trying not to trip, looking over his shoulder as the wolf sneaked closer, but still out of range of his arrows. Suddenly, there was a brown and white furry streak coming down from the left. It slammed into the wolf and knocked him down. A large brown and white dog had the wolf with a death grip on its neck and obviously weak beast soon stopped snarling and struggling.
Bounding down the mountain, following the dog, was a young boy, jumping over rocks as he went, but as surefooted as the dog had been. Arriving there before Tor could, the boy called his dog off, pulled out a knife and began cutting the wolf open. Reaching inside, he cut out the heart and threw it to the dog, who gladly wolfed it down, satisfied, vigorously wagging his tail at his accomplishment for his master.
Tor approached the boy with the knife, skinning the wolf, with a bit of trepidation. But when he arrived, the boy jumped up and said something, while holding up a bloodied hand in the Gal language that Tor had a bit of difficulty understanding. But then, the boy cut off a piece of choice meat from the wolf and threw it to Shin. Shin gobbled down the meat like the other dog had.
Soon, Tor was helping the boy cut up the wolf and the two dogs were checking each other out and eagerly waiting to see if their masters would throw any more meat their way. The boy told Tor that his name was Poal and his goat herding dog was Ree. As a sign of friendship, as if Ree had not already done enough, Poal cut off the wolf's scrotum and shared a gonad with Tor. Eating the raw gonad of a wolf gave you his cunning, keen senses and strength.
Poal was in his second summer on the high meadow with 15 goats. Ree was highly skilled at herding and made his job easy. Both keeping goats from straying and keeping them safe from wolves and other predators, like eagles, both day and night. It was a lonely job, but Poal loved it compared with jobs they had young men do in the valley below. Wolf packs and bears rarely bothered his little flock, their food was much easier to get in summer and they didn't want to have to deal with Ree. "He has killed the alpha wolf in more than one pack. Wolf meat is good to eat." Poal grinned with bloody face after drinking some of the wolf's warm blood.
Poal offered Tor to stay with him that night and for them to feast on the meat of the wolf, but Tor politely declined, anxious to reach the campsite he planned that night. The closer he got home, the more he wanted to get there more quickly. "My mother anxiously awaits my return," he explained, Poal understood, having lost his mother during childbirth of a sister who also died. One reason why he was on the mountain. With his father also gone. He was an orphan.
With some of the wolf's meat they picked up the pace as lower altitude made their breathing easier, and reached that last cache and the campsite where Tor left his high-altitude furs behind and settled into the evening knowing that he was clear of the mountains and only two days away from home and his long worried waiting mother.
Copyright 2020 © Ronald W. Hull
6/18/20
