Chapter 9
Makok stood on a large boulder that overlooked the meadow covering the mountain valley floor. Throughout the valley were boulders which had fallen from the surrounding mountains. After rolling down the steep slopes this particular rock had come to its present position just below the ridge of a small knoll. The added height gave him an excellent view of the valley and his charges. Some of the horses were grazing on the tall grass just below him while others were wandering about. A late morning breeze rippled through the tall grass and ruffled the animal’s manes. On his left a few mares huddled together next to the fence to let their foals nurse. Further down the valley a number of horses were at the creek getting a drink.
Satisfied there was no immediate danger Makok jumped off the boulder and picked up his unstrung bow which had been leaning against the rock. He ran a hand up and down the length of the wood checking for cracks or splinters. After the inspection he nodded his approval at his weapons condition. He’d been practicing with this particular bow for almost two months now and there was no sign of strain in the wood.
Taking a bow string from a pouch at his waist he fitted a loop in the grooves at one tapered end of the bow. Then placing the end of the bow with the string attached on the ground he positioned his right leg against the wood and used his weight to bend the bow. When the wood had arched to the right position he looped the string over the other end of the bow and into the grooves there. Releasing the tension on the bow he let the string go taut. He checked the string to make sure it was secure in the grooves at both ends then nodded his approval. It was ready to use.
After slipping the strung bow over his head so it rested on his right shoulder Makok pulled an arrow from his quiver. He examined the shaft with a critical eye. Although he was young Mak had shown a real talent of making arrows and had produced all the weapons in his fathers quiver. The shaft of the arrow Makok was holding was made from a straight willow stick with feathers tied to one end. A flint he’d fashioned into a point was at the other end. Makok took a critical look at the feathers. If they weren’t straight or secured to the shaft properly the arrow wouldn’t hit the target.
A faint high pitched yapping brought his attention away from the arrow. Careful not to break the point he placed the shaft back into the quiver then climbed onto the boulder to locate the source of the noise. It seemed to be coming from the trees on the mountainside of the other side of the valley. Try as he might there wasn’t much to see besides the herd, the forest on the slopes of the mountains, and small trail worn by the horses following the creek. Below, several of the animals below picked up on the strange noise and were looking around. One or two began moving forward, nickering.
Just then Shover, Tyr, Merik and Genl came running up from their guard positions. Each one held their spears at the ready. “What kind of animal makes that noise?” Shover asked Makok.
Makok shook his head in ignorance then jumped down from his look out. “It’s new to me but we need to find out,” he said and gestured at the herd. “We’ve got to do something to stop it or the horses’ll get spooked.” More of the animals were raising their heads to look for the sound that was getting louder. “If they stampede they’ll go right through the fences.” He nodded at the cluster of huts a short distance away. “People’ll get hurt if stampeding horses get loose in the village.”
“What d’you think?” Tyr asked the others who’d come with him.
Merik shrugged his shoulders in indifference. Tyr and Genl looked at each other and nodded. Then Shover said. “Makok’s right! We can’t let the horses get spooked. We have to check this out.”
“All right,” Tyr said with a deciding nod of his head. He was the man in charge of that days guard detail. “Genl you stay here while the rest of us go to see what’s happening.”
Genl went to protest but stopped at a scowl from Tyr. To keep watch he climbed up onto the rock Makok had used.
“Let’s go!” called Tyr and the four men hurried towards the mysterious sound. As they left the rise where Makok had been the sound of the yapping changed, gaining in intensity and pitch.
“What’s that mean?” wondered Shover.
“No idea,” replied Makok, “but we’d better hurry.” He paused long enough to make sure his quiver and arrows were secure then broke into a run.
The four men climbed over the fence to get into the meadow, sprinted through the tall grass, past several horses and vaulted over the fence on the other side of the valley. They crashed through underbrush and dodged trees as they ran up the side of the knoll towards the sound. The trees ended suddenly when they crested the ridge. What they saw in a small clearing below brought them to a halt. There was a pack of animals attacking a guard.
“What are those things?” asked Tyr breathing hard.
“No idea,” replied Shover. “But whatever they are, they’re ugly.”
As he took a moment to catch his breath Makok tried to count the beasts that were down there but kept having to start over when he reached ten. The new creatures were dashing in and out, cutting in front of one another making it difficult to get an accurate count. As he watched all he could tell was that the animals were four footed, hairy, and very quick.
The man the pack was attacking had climbed to the top of a clump of boulders to get away from the beasts. The animals were dashing in and out, leaping onto nearby boulders then dropping down, slashing at their prey with their jaws. Some were perched on other rocks waiting for a chance to pounce.
“What’s that guy doing here?” asked Shover and gestured over the hill towards the horses. “This can’t be his post! He can’t see the herd from here.”
“Probably was chased here,” replied Makok, “by those animals.”
“That’s my brother down there,” cried Merik as he finally recognized the man being attacked. “Melik!” he called waving his arms to catch his brother’s attention. “We’re here to help you.” But the animals were making too much noise and his call didn’t carry over the tumult.
“C’mon!” he called and waved everyone forward. “We’ve got to help.” The four men began hurrying down the slope towards the fight with Merik in the lead.
“Why isn’t he using his spears?” asked Tyr as he jogged down the slope. The man was hacking at any creature that came within reach of his hatchet. By this time the men had come close enough to see Melik’s arms and legs were bleeding from several cuts and scratches where the animals had gotten too close.
“He tried,” said Makok and pointed to where two spears were sticking in the ground. “He tried and missed.”
“Maybe he should have spent more time practicing the spear,” commented Shover. “Pot makers!” he said in disgust. “They’re only good for playing in mud.”
“Mud?!” exclaimed Melik starting towards the other, “he’s just as…”
“Hold it!” said Makok stepping between the two men to keep them apart and nodded at the fight in the clearing below. “We have a different enemy, remember?”
Everyone had stopped as the two men glared at each other for a moment then at Makok. “Watch this,” growled Tyr. “I’ll show you how a spear is thrown.” Gripping the wooden shaft of one of his spears he ran forward, yelling at the top of his voice. After a few steps he drew his arm back and threw putting his momentum into the throw.
The animals were moving too fast trying to get at Melik and the thrown spear missed. Now alerted to the new danger the creatures eyed the new enemies. Stunned by the miss the rescuers paused in their charge. The cornered man, surprised by the unanticipated arrival of help, also stopped fighting to look up. Two animals on boulders nearby took advantage of their prey’s inattention and leapt. Before anyone could react they’d dragged Melik to the ground from the rock where he’d taken refuge. Other beasts rushed in to claim a portion of the prize. The man’s shrieks of anguish could be heard over the yapping and snarling of the creatures.
“Melik!” screamed Merik as he sprinted down the slope, br
andishing his hatchet. Right behind him came Makok, Tyr and Shover.
There was a brief, noisy melee as four of the stronger beasts of the pack claimed the downed prey for themselves. Growling, the remaining animals turned to face the new arrivals who’d just reached the clearing. These animals snarled and moved toward the four men, saliva and blood dripping from their jaws.
Merik threw his spear at the closest beast. The creature skittered off to one side to let the weapon peg in the sod then turned back to face Merik. Its teeth were bared in a vicious snarl. The man cursed and said, “These animals are too quick to hit.”
“That’s what Melik learned,” said Makok in a low voice.
Moments after he’d been dragged off his boulder Melik’s cries and contortions stopped. The creatures continued to rip and tear at the hapless guard’s body. “What can we do now?” moaned Merik. “How can we get around these things to save Melik?”
“We can’t save him. He’s dead!” pronounced Shover with a shake of his head. “By this time they’ve ripped out his throat.” Just then two of the animals feasting on Melik left the corpse to join the group menacing the four men. Makok guessed there were at least fifteen creatures coming at them.
“We’d better worry about our own skins,” Shover continued. “They’re too quick to be hit by spears so all we have are our hatchets. And a hatchet didn’t do Melik any good.”
“Running wouldn’t do us any good either,” observed Makok slipping his bow over his head. “They’re faster than we are.”
One of the animals rushed in from the left and charged at Shover. Another dashed at Makok. Tyr swung his hatchet and missed. The animal backed off. Makok’s attacker had only feinted a rush and didn’t come within reach. In response, Makok let his hatchet drop to the ground, took an arrow from the quiver at his waist and put it to his bow string.
“Think your toy is going to help us Makok?” sneered Tyr.
“Shut up, Tyr!” barked Merik as he kept an eye on the menacing creatures. “We need whatever help we can get. I’m all for keeping those things as far away as possible.” He jabbed at a creature with his remaining spear then glanced over at Tyr. “Unless you’d rather try your hand at a close fight with these things.” Over the backs of the ever moving beasts they could see the two animals still tearing at the body of their friend.
Once again the creatures darted in. Shover, Tyr and Merik shouted and swung their weapons to keep the animals at bay. Makok drew back on the bow string, aimed and let fly. The arrow flew true to embed halfway up its shaft in the throat of an animal charging at Shover. No sound came from the beast as it collapsed at the man’s feet.
With the sudden death of one of their number a change came over the rest of the pack. They became more aggressive, rushing in trying to drag one of the men down.
Makok reached back to his quiver and put another arrow to his string. The next arrow took one of the creatures in the side. It wasn’t a killing blow but it slowed the animal down and the pain maddened it.
“Look out!” cried Shover as the injured animal sprang at the men. Makok jumped out of the way confusing the crazed animal. Merik brought his axe down splitting the creature’s skull while Tyr took a swing at another beast. Makok put an arrow into the chest of still another.
The fight gained in intensity. Men shouted and hacked at the creatures that growled and bit. Cuts and slashes were opened in the arms and legs of the men as they fought to keep the animals away. Makok fired his arrows as fast as he could make sure of his target.
There was no telling how long the fight had been going when the surviving beasts broke off the attack without warning to run for the trees. Only five of the pack made it into the forest and all of them had taken at least one arrow.
Makok took a deep shuddering breath and let it out as he watched the animals run. “I’m glad that’s over,” he said and slowly released the tension on the bow string. Looking down he realized he’d only two arrows left in the quiver. Then keeping an arrow to the string he joined the other men as they hurried over to where Melik lay. From the torn and bloody condition of the body it was apparent they were too late. The man was dead. Merik collapsed next to the body of his brother, sobbing in grief.
Shover and Tyr looked at Merik then over at Makok not knowing what to say or do. The archer motioned for the two men to sit down then placed his bow and quiver nearby where he could get to it if needed. He began to clean and bind the men’s wounds.
A cry came from the knoll and everyone looked up. It seemed Genl had raised the alarm and reinforcements from the Family ran down the slope. When they reached the clearing they stopped and stared at the beasts with arrows protruding from their bodies. Then they looked at Makok who was still tending wounds.
“How?” asked Terlon.
The first use of Makok’s bow as a weapon was a success and it brought a change to his life. He was no longer assigned guard duty because Jakto, the Patriarch, had him teaching the hunters of the Family how to make their own bow and arrows. Then he was to show those hunters how to use those weapons.
When word was passed to the other villages of how well Makok’s invention worked he was inundated with more students. But of all those he taught the hunters of the Clan from Home Canyon were the most attentive and diligent. They hadn’t been visited by the Eaters this summer but an attack was expected soon. Perhaps the bows would help drive the Eaters off - perhaps not. Now there was hope.