The Thinking Rocks (11 page)

As was normal with mammoths, not all
of them fed at the same time. By some innate law, one mammoth was usually
watching for danger, as the others fed. When the watcher was ready to feed, it
would start and another assumed the duties of the watcher.  Cano could not
see or hear any signals but they seemed to know when it was time to change
watchers.  Cano and Menla knew they could only move safely when the
watcher was looking the other
way.           

One of the calves was grazing alone.
The huge female was watching, but no danger was apparent to her. There were few
animals that would attack a mammoth and live to tell the tale.

In a land where survival was measured
by strength, the mammoth herd appeared safe. The mammoths lived by this rule of
strength.  What they did not realize is that there are other rules. 
The two crawling men were an example of another rule, deception. They were
something other than what they appeared to be.  The mammoths did not have
the same mental capabilities as the men. They survived by instinct, as did most
animals. The men used instinct too, but they survived by using their brains and
by learning from others. Fools do not learn from mistakes, the wise do. 
The very wise learn from the mistakes of others. The mammoths were coping with
something they thought they understood, but did not. They had their strength
and instinct. The men had their brains and the ability to communicate on a
level far superior to that of the mammoths. Unfortunately, there are random
factors, which can complicate or defeat the best of plans. These factors are
the great equalizers in all situations.

It seemed to Cano they would never be
able to get in between the mother and the wayward calf.  Suddenly there
was a commotion on the far side of the herd. The young male decided that he
wanted to graze where the old male with the broken tusk was feeding. The old
male explained in detail to the young one that this was a bad idea by charging
and knocking him over. The commotion caught the attention of the watcher. The
men had been hoping for this chance.

With no watcher on duty, Menla sprinted
ahead after motioning Cano to follow.  They were able to get into position
to move ahead with their plan.  With one of them on each side of the calf,
they leapt to their feet and rushed at it, screaming as loudly as they
could.  The startled calf was surprisingly fast for an animal its size and
it reacted in the expected way; it ran away from the threat.  Quickly,
they chased it toward the ambush where the others where waiting.  Both men
ran as fast as possible in an effort to reach the safety of the ambush and the
other men.  The calf was trumpeting a call for help from its mother.

The huge female, the leader of the
herd, answered the call. She saw her calf across the meadow racing away from
the herd, into the woods. She bawled to her calf and set out at a lumbering
gait to rescue it.  Her speed increased with each step and soon she was
four tons of motherhood thundering across the meadow.  Her trunk was
straight out, as was her tail, her tusks jutted forward as twin lances and her
hair flew back in gray waves.  With ears spread wide she ceased to be an
animal and became a specter of impending doom.

The calf was much faster than the men
chasing her and she reached the woods well in front of them.  As she swept
past trees on both sides of her she felt a sharp stabbing pain in her side,
then another in her other side. She screamed to her mother for help, but the
pains got worse. There was pain in a back leg and then she fell to the
ground.  Strange figures came rushing forward and stabbed her with sticks. 
She tried to scream again, but there was pain in her throat and blood gushed
from her mouth and trunk. It began getting darker and the pain began to go
away. Slowly, she slipped away into the deepest sleep of her short life.

Moki, seeing the calf fall knew she
was nearly dead. He had dropped the glowing embers from his fire horn into a
pile of tender before she had come through the trees. The fire was burning
strongly when he tossed it to the second pile of tinder on the other side of
the ambush area. The tinder was dry and the fire spread rapidly.  Loki
tossed him a tall bundle of burning grass, which he flung into the opening
between the trees. They both tossed bundle after bundle on the fire, and it was
soon an inferno; they hoped it would frighten the mother away.  If she
knew the fire was only a thin screen, she could crash through it and destroy
the men with a mother’s fury.

In the meadow, the race was
narrowing. Menla was much closer to the fire, but Cano was inspired to proceed
at a rapid rate by the ground shaking thunder of the hoofs behind him.  It
became evident to him that he would not be able to make it to the safety of the
fire.  Menla might make it, but he knew he was too far behind to make up
the distance before the mother decorated her tusks with his body.  He
decided to try something desperate.  He turned sharply to the left and
continued running.

The outraged mother saw one of the
figures turn away.  She could go after it or she could keep going in the
direction where her calf had gone and trample the small figure in front of
her.  She choose to give a final burst of speed and continued straight
ahead. She was closing rapidly on the small figure when she saw one of the only
things that she feared, Fire. There was a wall of it in front of her.  The
small figure in front of her rushed into the flames and was gone.  She
skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust and torn grass and bushes.  She
screamed her rage at the fire.  Digging her tusks into the ground, she
ripped up huge chunks of dirt and grass. With rage boiling in her blood she
attacked a small tree and broke it to pieces, her eyes where red with rage and
frustration, foam dripped from her mouth. She pounded the ground with her tusks
and charged around in small circles looking for something to destroy. Suddenly
she stopped, standing with heaving sides she remembered the figure that had
turned away. She spun around and began to retrace her steps.

Cano had seen Menla leap through the
flames and hoped he was safe. He wished he were with him instead of out here in
the open.  He remembered what Menla had said, that the mammoth could not
see well. Cano decided to hide. Gathering what remained of his branches; he
crouched down and tried to slow his breathing.

The frustrated mother backtracked
until she could see the area where the figure had run.  Unfortunately for
Cano the flattened grass acted as a path to a single bush. This bush was Cano.
The big female could not see Cano but she could see the bush.  In her
frustration, she decided to destroy anything in the area that was within her
power, and almost everything was within her power. She was fury, she was power,
and now she was a mother that was after revenge.  She took a breath and
reaching deep into her self, she gave birth to a screaming bellow that echoed
for miles.  She launched herself forward, lowering her tusks to grass
level she headed straight for the bush that was the personification of her
pain.  The earth rumbled with the sounds of her hoofs pounding forward,
clods flew higher than her back.  Her hair rolled in waves along her sides
and gave the illusion of even greater speed. Her eyes blazed with red fury as
she descended upon the bush.  She was an awe-inspiring sight, terrifying
in her power.

Cano’s heart was pounding faster than
the beat of a bird’s wings. He sat as still as possible as the giant beast
turned toward him. His mouth was dry and he was more frightened than he had
ever been before in his life. His life, he thought, will be over soon. 
Maybe she will not see me. However, as quick as the thought was born it
died.  She had lowered her head and like the face of Doom, her eyes seemed
to look onto his.  She began moving toward him at a fast walk, and then
broke into a trot, and finally, an earth shaking charge. He knew he was lost. He
started to tremble, and could feel his fingers and toes tingle.

Then an unbelievable thing happened,
everything changed.  It was so strange. She was still pounding her way
across the meadow, but everything was slow.  It seemed like it took a long
time for her feet to come down.  Her hair was blowing but it appeared to
move over her body in soft slow waves.  One of her tusks gouged out a
chunk of grass and he thought he could almost hear and see the roots
breaking.  He looked down at his hand and closed his fingers.  They
were working slowly and smoothly. He seemed to be in a dream-like state, only
he was certain that the Mammoth was real and she was getting closer, he could
see the red in her eyes and almost smell her musky breath.

It was then that it happened. It was
as if a cloud had move away from the sun and now he could see.  He knew
what he must do and he knew that he could do it.  He was deeply at peace
with himself.  He had been holding his breath and had not known it; he let
out the breath. He waited as her thundering hoofs brought her ever
closer.  Her tusks were now gouging twin furrows in the soil as she
completed her charge.

At the last possible instant, Cano
sprang to the side. The right tusk snatched a branch of his camouflage away as
she swept past.  The charge carried her well past him before she could
stop.  With heaving sides, she turned to look at the bush.  She was
confused; bushes do not jump out of the way. They cannot move.  She was
big, but she was not dumb. The bush was not a bush.  The bush was trouble
and she knew how to handle trouble.  She started forward again.

The outcome of this confrontation was
apparent to Cano, the mammoth, and the other hunters. However, there are few
things absolute or sure in this world. At times little things can happen that
change seemingly preordained events.  This time a short piece of braided
snakeskin changed the inevitable.

Cano was more than frightened; he was
terrified. Everything still seemed to be in slow motion.  He could still
smell the mammoth as she had charged past. He could feel the hate he saw in her
eyes.  He was breathing in short gasps that seemed to take forever to
happen.  His mind was racing for a way out of this mess.  I don’t
want to die, he thought.  I want to see Ceola again. What can I do? 
Like a drowning man, his mind raced over things he had heard or done. A memory
jumped out at him, it was a campfire tale told by a visiting hunter.  A
buffalo had been charging a hunter that could not reach cover.  The hunter
was sure he was going to die.  He said it was only by the grace of the
Great Spirit that he lived.  As the buffalo thundered down on him, he saw
that the buffalo lowered its head at the last moment in order to gore him. But
when it lowered its head it couldn’t see him, its eyes where looking at the
ground. The hunter was able to dive to the side and escape.  It was a slim
chance but it was all he had.

As the mammoth started her second
charge Cano knew he could not just wait, and then jump out of the way as he had
done before.  He stood and tore off the branches that had covered
him.  The mammoth was again thundering toward him with ears flying out to
the sides and her trunk held high. He could hear her trumpeting in long slow
notes.  He knew that this time he would die.  He was not afraid, but
he felt sad that he would never see Ceola again. He would die, but as a hunter,
as a man.  He clenched his fist and then thrust his arms high in the air
and bellowed an answering challenge toward the mammoth.  This is where I
may die he thought.  He charged toward the enraged mother.

The watching hunters were safe beyond
the fire and could clearly see what was happening in the meadow.  When
they saw the mammoth’s first charge and Cano’s narrow escape, they were stunned
to a man. They saw him throw off the branches that had hidden him, and stand in
plain sight of the mammoth.

Hedra said, “What’s he trying to
do?”  No one answered at first, but when Cano raised his arms and charged
screaming at the mammoth, Loki said, “He’s gone crazy.”

Menla shaded his eyes from the sun
and stated, “No, he’s not crazy, he knows he is a dead man and goes to meet the
Great Spirit. He goes as a hunter and a Man.”

After a moment, Bana said, “That may
be true, but he will still be dead”

Back in the meadow; Cano was rushing
at the mammoth in slow motion.  He could feel the wind in his face and
feel his legs moving but it seemed like a dream.  It was like running in
water.  He knew what was happening, except it did not seem real, he seemed
detached from himself.  It was as if he was watching someone else and yet
he was a part of the action.  He was the challenge he screamed at the
mammoth.  As he charged the mammoth, he kept his eyes on her eyes. 
He was waiting for the moment when she would drop her eyes and he could leap to
the side. It was then the real terror of the situation came to him. The mammoth
was not a buffalo; she would not drop her head to gore him.  Her eyes
where in a different location than those of a buffalo.  She was looking at
her enemy and her tusks were going to impale him.  He had made a mistake,
a big mistake, and it was a fatal mistake. This was the worst mistake he had
ever made in his life.  The realization of this struck him to the core of
his being.  The end was near when he called out, “Oh Great Spirit please
help me.”

The mammoth and Cano were about to
smash into each other, when the braided snakeskin strap that had been used to
tie the branches and leaves to his legs became entangled with the other
leg.  This caused his legs to stop, but did not effect his forward motion,
except to redirect it. He flew forward and tumbled on to the back of his
neck.  His momentum caused him to be rolled forward and back on to his
feet. Then he flew up and to his left as he tried to continue running. His
twisting saved him from being impaled on the right tusk, but caused him to
strike the mammoth’s skull a glancing blow which knocked him unconscious, just
before he smashed into the outstretched ear. His seemingly lifeless body went spiraling
through the air before crashing into the grassy ground.  He laid there, an
unmoving muddle of bloody limbs.