Two Rivers (13 page)

Heart coming to a halt, he turned slowly, like in a dream. The
world around him seemed to freeze as he watched the trees some fifty paces away
from him. They didn’t move, a part of the turned-to-stone world, but something
was coming from that direction, threading carelessly, breaking branches on its
way. Something fierce, forceful, monstrously huge!

He peered at the greenish foliage, unable to get enough air,
but acutely aware of his surroundings, of the birds which seemed to stop
chirping, and of the small creatures scampering away, disappearing into their
comfortably small hideaways. The air was motionless, grayish in color, lacking
its usual vitality.

One heartbeat, then another, then ten more. He counted them,
unable to move. His limbs seemed to freeze, paralyzed, too heavy to lift, and
his head was clear of thoughts, any thoughts. He felt neither fear, nor
anxiety, nor any other feeling, for that matter. His mind went blank. Clear,
vacant, impossible to gather enough concentration to think. But what was there
to think about? The bear was coming from the opposite hill, with him, Tekeni,
hiding on the
wrong
side of the fence.

The nasty smell grew, as did the sound of the breaking bushes,
now joined by a heavy breathing. Only a real monster would breathe so loudly,
to be heard from such distance. But of course! Only a real monster could devour
half a deer in one night.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, accumulating in his eyebrows,
threatening to penetrate his eyes. But for a gust of a fresh breeze! Oh all the
small and great
ukis
, even the elements were against him, making the
wind blow steadily for three days, then taking it away at the height of his
trial. Were the Great Spirits angry with him for attempting the impossible?

He drew the bow closer to his chest. There was no point in
crouching behind the fence anymore, being on the wrong side of it; still, he
sat there, the effort of changing position too great, requiring more strength
than he could muster at the moment.

The smell grew, and then he saw it, the brownish spot in the
lake of green, not in front of him but to his left, a mass of wet, muddy fur
sparkling with drops of water. Raising its massive head, the creature sniffed
the air, presenting to Tekeni the wideness of its side.

He knew he should do something, maybe get up and shoot before
it charged toward him. The moment the bear would see him, he knew, he would be
covering the distance in two, three powerful leaps, leaving its victim with not
enough time to gasp, let alone stretch his bow, aim, and shoot.

Painfully slow, moving like in a dream, he got to his feet,
feeling them trembling, holding him, but barely, the fence behind his back
reassuring, promising support.

His hands shook badly, too, as they groped after the first
arrow, his fingers cumbersome, having almost no feeling in them.

The creature paid him no attention, not noticing anything
alarming, probably, but it was sniffing the air, looking in his direction.

He raised his bow, feeling it moving painfully slow, spending
hundreds of heartbeats on every movement as it seemed. To straighten his hands
– another eternity. To adjust the arrow – more of the countless time.

The bear was coming, skipping lightly on its four paws. He
could not get enough air. The bow was dancing in his hands, making it
impossible to aim. There was no point in trying to pull at the tight string at
all. He would only manage to get the arrow leap into the air.

The stench was overwhelming now, something wet and rotten. He
thought of the foul breath of the creature upon his face, when it would be busy
sinking its teeth into him. It made him want to vomit.

Like in a dream, he watched the drops flying off the bouncing
fur, the dry patches of it jumping softly with every skip. The bear was so
close now he could see the pointed nose, the round ears, the small eyes
darting, strangely thoughtful. It went past his fence, hardly twenty paces
away, paying it no attention. He tried to comprehend it. Why wasn’t the
creature charging?

And then it dawned upon him. The fence was there last night
when the bear came to discover the dead deer. It was a familiar thing by now.
Bears did not see well, said Two Rivers, and the man knew what he was talking
about. He seemed to know everything.

Don’t make any sharp movements and he may not notice you at
all
.

The words rang in his ears, accumulating power as he watched
the gigantic creature slowing its step, sniffing the air once again. The
carcass, he realized. The bear was looking for its unfinished meal.

A low growl, and the giant resumed his walk, hastening his
step. Clenching his teeth against the trembling, Tekeni raised his hands, still
painfully slow, but steadier now, his fingers beginning to feel again. It was
as though someone else were doing all this, with him watching from the side,
not knowing what this person would do next.

 The bowstring hissed beside his ear, exaggeratedly loud. How
come the creature was not startled by it, too?

He watched the arrow sticking into the wide side, burying
deeply into the grizzled fur, and then the ethereal feeling was gone. The world
came back to life with a deafening roar. It crushed down his stomach, freezing
his insides with so much dread his heart came to a total halt.

More roars came, thundering in his ears, intensifying, as the
bear turned around, already on its back paws, enormous, a real giant, blocking
the sky.

For a heartbeat, it hesitated, wavering, its grunts making
strange gurgling sounds. Another hiss of a bowstring interrupted this, before
the bear charged, getting back on his four legs. Did he shoot again? He did not
remember himself doing it at all, yet his quiver was lighter now, with only two
arrows left.

Darting aside, Tekeni felt his hands tearing the third arrow,
before the quiver fell to the ground, impossible to reach again. It was the
third arrow, but he did not remember himself shooting the second one. Yet, two
sticks now protruded from the monstrous side. Another hiss and a new feathered
shaft was fluttering in the beast’s eye. 

His own heart thundering in his ears, Tekeni jumped over the
low fence, desperate to find some sort of protection. How stupid! A powerful
paw swept the woven branches away as though it were a heap of leaves.

With the foul breath upon him, mixed with the repulsive aroma
of fresh blood and some other discharges, he half crawled, half rolled away,
disregarding the tearing pain in his upper arm, where one set of claws brushed
against it, clutching the knife in his sweaty palms –
how did it get there
in the first place?
– seeing nothing but the mess of the wet fur and the
giant limbs.

The agility of the beast was frightening, but as it turned to
charge again, blind with rage and bleeding, it wavered and fought to keep its
balance, giving Tekeni a much needed heartbeat of respite.

Scrambling to his feet, he darted out of the monster’s sight,
the realization dawning, giving his limbs power. The beast was wounded, wounded
badly. It was bleeding and wavering, still full of fighting spirit but
weakening rapidly.

He whooped with joy, forgetting his fear and the necessity to
keep quiet. Bettering his grip on the knife, he leapt toward the wide back,
plunging the sharpened flint in, not aiming anywhere in particular.

The beast was dying! He was killing it, despite the plan going
wrong, despite the fear, despite the misgivings. He was killing it all alone,
with a few arrows and his knife. Ecstatic, oblivious of his safety anymore, he
clung to his dagger, feeling it slipping away, stuck deeply in the mess of the
wet pelt, reluctant to let go.

It was a mistake. A desperate growl pierced his ears, and the
foul breath was again upon him before the powerful paw sent him flying amidst a
tearing pain. He crashed to the ground, but kept enough presence of mind to
jump onto his feet despite the pain. The bear was charging again, but it did so
slowly, shakily, and this time, he found no difficulty in dashing out of its
path.

Clutching to his arm, feeling it slippery, pulsating with pain,
he watched the bear struggling to get back to its feet, still angry, still
revengeful. The blood was flowing in between the bared fangs, making the gaping
mouth look grotesque and evil, the sounds bursting through it strange, adding
to the eerie sensation. Another eternity and the monstrous head flopped
forward, crashing into the earth.

It was a ridiculous sight. Head reeling, legs trembling, hardly
able to support him, he found it impossible to stifle a giggle. It was really
too funny, the way the powerful creature just lay there, hiding its face as
though ashamed of the failure, having lost to an insignificant creature, a mere
boy.

The thought made the laughter burst out unrestrained. It made
his stomach hurt, and he clutched onto it, trying not to lose his own balance.
Still, soon he was on his knees, gasping for breath, the laughter impossible to
control, making his eyes water. He hadn’t laughed so hard for summers, since
that time when he and his brother were running away from the angry bees after
an unsuccessful attempt to get to the honey.

In the end, he just sat there panting, watching the fallen
giant, unable to get up. The laughter did take the last of his strength away,
but it made him feel better too, relaxed, purified, indifferent to the pain in
his arm and the side of his chest where the monstrous claws left deep, gaping
lines.

He would have to take care of those, he knew, before the wounds
began to rot. And he would have to skin the bear quickly, before it would begin
to rot, too. If he sat here for days on end, unable to move, they would both
rot. The thought brought the hysterical laughter back.

“I have to do something about the both of us, eh, Elder
Brother?” he said, addressing the bear, his breath coming in gasps, tears of
mirth rolling down his cheeks. “We won’t stay here feeding coyotes and wolves,
will we?”

Yet, for the life of him, he could not get up, and it spoiled
his mood, made him curse. But then he remembered Two Rivers.

“Forget it,” he said to the bear. “Just forget it. Two Rivers
will be here soon, and he will take care of the two of us.”

Chapter 12

The darkness was thickening rapidly as Two Rivers swam back
toward the shore. Climbing the slippery path, he sighed, tired but perfectly
satisfied, in peace with the world for a change.

What a day, he thought, shaking the water off, wishing to have
a dry cloth to wipe himself. With no friendly warmth of the sun, the wind was
piercingly cold, cutting through his skin.

He should have washed earlier, he knew, but skinning the bear
was not an easy task. It had taken him the whole afternoon and the main part of
the evening, with the boy being of no help at all.

Ridiculously chatty, unable to concentrate, the cuts upon his
chest bleeding and his hands trembling, the youth sliced the pelt itself twice,
until Two Rivers told him to be off. There was no need to ruin the beautiful
fur, and the boy’s wounds needed to be cleaned, some of them deep enough,
inflamed already, glaring with its dirty, reddish mess.

He had told the boy to go down the shore and soak in the river
for all eternity, until he called him back. Then he resumed his work, anxious
to scrape the fat lining the inside of the pelt as much as he could before the
darkness fell.

Even though immersed and in a hurry, he yet found it difficult
to suppress his grin. So much bravery and fierceness in one young cub, he
thought, shaking his head. To gather one’s senses and actually make the first
shot took more courage than many men could muster. But to fight the beast, to
shoot it again and again, to dart around it, and then actually attack it with
one’s knife, why, this kind of a deed was as rare as a fresh ear of maize in
the dead of winter.

He shook his head again, remembering himself watching the fight
with his own mouth gaping, the bowstring and the ready arrow forgotten in his
frozen hands. It was incredible, a privilege to see, the fierce cub against the
old giant, a rising life against the setting one, no hunting at all but the
animal-like fight of two cornered, bloodthirsty creatures. It was as though one
of the spirits has gotten into the boy, taking the traces of humanness out,
filling him with a vicious, dangerous energy belonging to the forest. A
breathtaking sight, told and retold by many storytellers, but nothing like the
real thing, he knew now, nothing at all.

It was already dark when he came back, still wet and frozen,
the armload of firewood he had gathered on his way scratching his limbs. The
boy was dozing off beside the stretched pelt, exhausted beyond words.

Two Rivers sighed. As tired as he had been, he knew his duties
were far from being over. A fire had to be made, to keep them warm and
protected at night, and a meal organized. He was famished, and the boy
obviously needed to maintain his living forces as well. Even if not seriously,
the cub had been wounded, and the sprout of energy gushing inside his blood
after facing such a violent encounter and coming out of it alive would be
wearing off by now, leaving the boy empty and spent. 

Luckily, their bait was not far away, still in a fair
condition. Slicing the delicate meat padding the deer’s ribs, Two Rivers
grinned again. It was very considerate of the bear to eat only one half of the
offering, not touching the other side of the carcass at all.

As he had expected, the smell of the roasted meat brought the
boy back to life. Paces unsteady, shoulders hunched guiltily, he neared the
fire, the earlier frantic spark gone from the thinned, drawn face. Even in the
poor illumination of their small fire, the youth’s paleness was as obvious as
his exhaustion.

“Help yourself,” said Two Rivers, motioning at the fire. “The
meat is almost ready.”

“I’m sorry that I was of no help,” muttered the boy, not moving
toward the indicated place. “I was useless.”

He didn’t try to conceal his laughter. “Oh, you were useful all
right, wolf cub. This pelt is magnificent, the largest pelt I have ever seen.
The holes you made in it notwithstanding.”

“Oh, well, yes…” The boy shivered, hunching his shoulders
against the new gust of wind. “I’m sorry I was so useless in skinning it.”

“I didn’t mean these holes. I meant the holes made by your
knife while the creature was still alive, still full of the fighting spirit.”
He studied the piece of meat, frowning at its blackish crispiness. The lack of
freshness demanded that the meat should be roasted this way. “Sit down and eat
this,” he said, thrusting the stick into the boy’s hands. “Get busy and make
yourself useful by talking less nonsense.”

He picked another stick, taking his time to choose the best
among the pieces of meat.

“No one would expect you to be helpful after such a feat. I was
surprised you managed to stay around at all. Believe me on that. Many old,
seasoned hunters would not have been able to do half of what you’ve done,
trying to help me skin your bear.” He met the dark eyes, peering at him
anxiously, wide open and expectant. “Understand this. When we built our fence,
we were counting on you shooting the beast, taking it down from a relatively
safe distance. We were counting on you
hunting
it! But what you did was
quite a different thing. You faced your adversary. You challenged it to a duel,
a face-to-face battle. I haven’t seen it happening in my entire life. I saw
people fighting predators, a bear or a mountain lion, but they did so when
cornered, having no other choice. While you just stood up to it and fought it,
having all opportunities to try to crawl away, or just to wait quietly, hoping
it would finish its meal and go without noticing you. It could have happened,
you know? You could have waited, but you chose not to.”

He fought the temptation to sink his teeth into the new roasted
piece, placing it upon a clean-looking leaf, instead.

“It was quite a sight to watch from where I stood. I had a good
vantage point, having switched our place for a better one. I was playing with
an idea to help you, should you find yourself in a desperate situation, but,
obviously, you needed no help from me.” He shook his head. “You could have shot
your bear when it appeared, still at a respectable distance. I saw you standing
up, clenching your bow. But you did not. You waited for it to come close, to
face you. Why would you do that?”

The boy’s smile was small, surprisingly shy. “I was too afraid
to shoot earlier.”

“Then what changed?”

“I remembered you saying that they don’t see well. At some
point, I realized it was hurrying toward the deer, not toward me. Then I knew I
might have a chance.”

“Everyone knows about brown bears and their inability to see
well.”

“Yes, of course. But I forgot.” The boy hesitated. “I was too
afraid to remember.”

“I see.”

With the third piece of meat ready, he allowed himself to sit
back and eat it, before returning to more cooking, resigned to the necessity to
roast all the meat he had cut. The boy was evidently famished, and it was a
good thing. He needed to restore his energy, in case his wounds were deeper,
more dangerous than they assumed.

“The sight of these claws upon your chest is a good thing,” he
said, wishing more than anything to sit back and stuff his pipe with the ground
tobacco he always made sure to bring along. “No one would be able to imply you
shot your beast from a great distance or did so with my help.”

The broad face darkened. “Would they try to do that?”

“Of course. Those who have no courage of their own would always
try to find the lack of it in others. Especially in people like you. You make
them feel their cowardice more acutely, you know that?”

“I wish we didn’t have to go back,” muttered the boy, eyes
fixed upon the glowing embers.

“No? And where would you have us go? Back to your people?”

Amused, he watched the boy’s face closing abruptly, the large
eyes dropping to study the damp earth.

“No, of course not. I didn’t mean it that way.” The boy
swallowed, frowning painfully. “I just wish people would stop looking at me,
eager to find more evidence of me doing everything wrong.”

He acknowledged it with a nod. “Like I told you before, it’ll
take time to make them trust you. But you made a giant step toward your goal.
Everyone will respect you for what you did. No one will dismiss you as a wild
cub anymore. I predict you would be invited to join many hunting parties, and
it won’t be long before our Warriors’ Chief decides to let you join the War
Dance. He is an exceptional man, and his eyes are not clouded with prejudice.”

In his mind, he could see the noble, wrinkled face of the old
leader, the deeply set, narrow eyes, eyes that could blaze with rage and
passion, or sometimes just mild amusement and calm patience, the penetrating
eyes that seemed to be able to see through people. A perfect leader.

He shivered, remembering the unsettling sensation on the night
of the War Dance, when the man talked about their responsibilities and the
impending raid, until his eyes suddenly clouded and he had said that maybe it
was the time to clear the path for the younger leaders to follow.

His worry mounting, he remembered the last conversation with
the man, after the night of the War Dance, the day before the warriors were
destined to leave. He was not required to explain his decision. The man just
grinned lightly and told him to go with his heart. Just like that. No questions
asked, no explanations required, no reproaches sounded. Nothing but the deep,
penetrating gaze that seemed to look straight into his soul, accepting and even
slightly amused by what he had seen there. Did the man understand any of it? he
wondered, not sure he himself could understand his own decisions.

Please, don’t let him die
, he thought, suddenly cold,
shivering, the bad feeling back, making his stomach turn.
Oh, benevolent
spirits, oh Right-Handed Twin, please keep him safe for as long as you can
.    

“I wish I could tell you how grateful I am.” The boy’s low
voice brought him back into the chilliness of the night on the other side of
the Northern River. “You have done so much for me. I will never be able to
repay. Never!”

He fought his smile from showing, grateful too, because the
boy’s words made the strange sensation go away.

“Don’t think too much about any of it. I did nothing I didn’t
want to do, and you repaid me already with this impressive battle not many
would be privileged to see through their entire lives.”