Page 9 of Flint Dog

Chapter 9: A rocky spot

  Next day, the whole village was alive with talk of the big stone, or menhir as they called it. The chief, Father and a few other Hunters had seen some menhirs when they had journeyed to another village some time ago to trade weapons for skins. The place they had been to had some huge single standing stones and also some smaller ones set in long rows. There was a lot of discussion about what would be best. In the end, the Chief decided they should erect one large stone, the largest they could find. Father was chosen to search for a suitable menhir.

  He spent many days searching, but each night he returned home tired and unsuccessful. One day Father took Youngest with him. Youngest of course took Flint. Mother gave them some cooked meat, bread and nuts to take with them. Youngest carried the food in the new skin pouch that Mother had sewed for him. Mother was always sewing things these days. Father teased her about it, saying that he didn't dare sit in one place too long because Mother would probably sew him to it! But Youngest knew that Father was really very proud of Mother's new ability which was making quite a difference to them. Their sewn clothes were much warmer, and the sewn pouches much stronger than anything they had had before.

  Youngest was thrilled to be out with Father. They headed out through the woods, past the caves (so far no-one had yet discovered that the caves had become blocked up -Youngest hoped it would stay that way) and on into territory that was new to him. It was rocky ground with a few stunted trees and bushes. They walked a long, long way but Youngest was too happy to feel tired. As they walked, Father chatted to him about the plants and birds they saw. They paused for a drink at a gushing stream. Father pointed out a few shining fish to Youngest.

  "Let's catch some for Mother!" exclaimed Youngest.

  "No!" laughed Father. "They are too small to bother with. Leave them and they'll grow big and fat, and then they'll be worth catching."

  "Can we come back when they're big?" asked Youngest. He would love to go fishing with Father.

  "Of course we can," smiled Father. "When the leaves have fallen from the trees, that will be time to come back. Don't forget now!"

  As if Youngest would forget a treat like that! Youngest beamed happily and they set off again.

  They began to climb upwards. Soon the landscape changed again and became barer. Now there were just a few thorny bushes around. There were large rocks everywhere.

  "Surely one of these will suit our purpose," panted Father, stopping for a rest. "Let's eat now and then we'll hunt around here."

  "Good idea," agreed Youngest, who was starving. He took the meat and bread Father handed him and looked around for a likely spot to sit. He noticed a rocky ledge behind a thorn bush. Carefully edging round the bush he jumped up onto the ledge.

  "I'm going to sit here Father," he announced proudly.

  "Fine," said Father, squatting down on the rocky ground. "Don't fall off or your Mother will sew me inside a big skin pouch and throw me in the river!"

  Youngest giggled and walked a few paces along the ledge. It wobbled.

  "Oh!" he gasped. "The ledge is moving!"

  He took a pace back and the ledge wobbled again.

  Father was up in a trice, arms outstretched to pull Youngest down. As he lifted him to safety, he looked at the ledge.

  "Actually Youngest," he said, "I don't think it is a ledge. Let me see."

  He pulled his big axe out of his pouch and slashed away at the thorn bush. He used the handle of the axe to ease the cut branches away from the rock.

  "Well, well," he muttered examining the rock some more.

  "What? What is it?" cried Youngest.

  "This isn't a ledge at all, it's a huge boulder," announced Father. "And what's more, it's the perfect shape for our menhir. See how long and even it is. Youngest, you've found our menhir!"

  "Yippee!" shouted Youngest and began dancing around. Didn't he have something to tell his friends now? Unfortunately he trod on one of the thorny branches Father had cut down and that stopped his dancing. He sat down and pulled the thorns out of the thick skin on his feet.

  Father was still studying the rock. "Hmm, it will take a lot of work to get it back to the village, but it will be worth it. This menhir will please the Mother Goddess, that's for sure."

  They started to make their way back. However, after only a little way Father stopped and picked up a few large stones.

  "Youngest, find some more stones like these," he ordered.

  "Why do you want stones, Father?" asked Youngest as he scrabbled around, searching for rocks.

  "We must mark our trail so that we can find our way back to the menhir," explained Father. "I'm sure we'd remember it anyway, but to be on the safe side we'll leave some piles of stones to guide us. When we get to the woods, I'll make marks on the trees with my axe."

  "By the clouds, you are clever, Father," said Youngest admiringly. "When I'm a Hunter, will I be as clever as you?"

  "Much, much cleverer, I expect," smiled Father, taking the stones Youngest found. "We'll leave a pile of rocks like this every thirty paces."