The Thinking Rocks (36 page)

Cano wasn't sure if he
should or could kill the turtle. It was big and heavy; it would be difficult to
get it back to camp.  It was also a lot of meat; they wouldn't have to
hunt for days if he was able to kill it.  His mind made up, he silently
moved up behind it; walking slowly and softly.  The turtle was eating and
paid no attention to him.  When he was close enough, he struck with the
spear.  It was a strong thrust and sank deep into the turtle's neck.
Unfortunately, it wasn't a killing blow. The turtle was hurt, but not mortally,
and it spun around and struck at him. Cano's spear was still embedded in the
neck and this caused the turtle's strike to miss.  Cano was amazed at how
far out of the shell the head could reach, it almost got him in the leg. 
He jumped back and at the same time jerked the spear out and then drove it
down, again the point cut deeply into the flesh of the neck.  The turtle
seemed unaffected by the wounds; it scrambled toward him hissing and snapping
it jaws. With each of its strikes it raised its front legs off the ground and
lunged at him using its back legs to drive it forward.  There was no fear
in the creature.  It was intent upon getting to him, and Cano had to
scramble back to keep from getting bit. The air filled with a foul smell, it
was so bad that it made his eyes water. Blinking his eyes franticly, he lunged
again at the turtle's head with his spear.  In a hissing movement it
twisted its head and it snapped at his spear. It was able to take a chunk of
wood from the green shaft.  He struck at the turtle again, but hit the
tough shell and his spear only slid off, leaving a long mark.  The turtle
lunged at him and he had to retreat again.

 The
turtle must have realized that it was getting farther away from the safety of
the water, so it spun around and started scuttling toward the river. Cano was
amazed at how fast the turtle could move on land, it appeared clumsy, but it
covered ground quickly. Cano dropped his spear and lunged forward and grabbed
the turtle's tail; it was relatively long and provided a good grip.  At
first it ignored the added weight and kept moving toward the water, dragging
him along. Then, without warning, it spun around and struck again.  This
time its beak shaped mouth nicked his hand and almost caught his thumb. He
released the tail and rolled away.  The turtle headed for the water
again.  Cano looked at the blood on his hand, took a deep breath, and
thought,’ this might not have been such a good idea after all.’ He hesitated
only a moment and then launched himself after the turtle. This was now a battle
of wills.  This turtle was not going to escape, he thought. He got a good
grip on the tail and a hind leg.  He twisted and used all of his strength
to drag the turtle to the side and then he rolled the turtle on to its back
before it could get into a position where it could bite him.  The turtle
was big and turtles don't get this big without learning how to survive. 
It first moved its heavily clawed feet around trying to get a grip on something
in order to roll itself over.  Nothing was close enough to help it. 
Next, it stretched its neck out as far as it could and then turned its head
back so that its chin was on the ground. It arched its neck and pulled its legs
in on one side, slowly and with difficulty it started to turn itself over
again.  It had almost made it when Cano rushed forward and rolled it onto
its back again.  It hissed and struck, Cano again smelled the foul stench
that came from the turtle. He moved back and took a deep breath.  The
turtle started to roll over again. Cano knew that he couldn't keep pushing the
turtle over; he had to do something quickly.  He retrieved his spear and
as the turtle stretched its neck out again, he drove his spear at it. 
Because of the turtles speed he missed again and the turtle was able to get a
good bite on the spear shaft. Cano tried to pull the spear free, but the turtle
refused to let go.  Cano heard a cracking noise and the turtle bit through
the spear shaft; it spit the shaft out and turned its head toward him hissing. 
It looked at him with black beady eyes, as if to say "You
Next".   Cano stepped back and then looked down at his broken
spear.  How do I kill it now? He thought. The turtle tried to turn itself
over again by stretching its neck out.  Cano had an idea; he drove the
spear shaft into the ground near the turtle's head. It struck with lightning
like speed and got a deathlike grip on the shaft.  Cano pried the shaft
away from the turtle and in so doing; he stretched the turtle's neck out
farther.  The turtle refused to release its hold on the shaft. Cano held
the spear shaft in the ground with one hand and then pulled out his Canohawk.
He swung it down with all of his might and was rewarded with the sound of a
bone breaking.  The turtle refused even then to release the spear
shaft.  Cano struck repeatedly until he had chopped the turtle's head
completely off. The head still didn't release the shaft.  The turtle's
life blood pumped out onto the ground. The clawed feet continued to thrash
ineffectively.  It was dead, but it didn't seem to know it.

Cano looked
down at the turtle. He was glad to have it, the meat should be good and there
was a lot of it. It was much heavier than he was. It would feed them for many
days.  The problem now, how to get it back to camp. He looked around for
some vines so that he could tie it and the drag it back to camp.  He
walked a short distance up stream and then turned and walked down stream, but
he couldn't find any suitable vines.  He sat down next to the headless
turtle that was still trying to swim its way to safety, upside down. He looked
around at the tall grass; it would be good for making baskets.  Then he
had an idea; he could weave some of the grass together as Na'pe had showed
them.  Instead of making a basket, he made a long strand of twisted grass.
When he tested it he found it too weak. He didn't give up; the idea was a good
one.  He kept trying different patterns of weaving until he found one that
was strong enough.  He then found that by braiding several of them
together he had something that would work. It took some time, but finally he
had enough of it to be able to tie it to the turtle.

He retrieved his broken
spear and saw that the turtle's head still had a death grip on it.  The
head was so heavy that it was difficult to lift.  He started to see if he
could pry the head off the shaft, but then he had an idea. I'll leave it there,
its proof of how dangerous the turtle was.  Then another thought came.
This was another lesson from the Great Spirit.  I have started to forget
what I was taught, he thought.  He sat silently thinking for
sometime.   The turtle had wanted to live as much as I wanted it
dead.  Its death was a struggle for survival. Even after it was killed it
refused to accept its own death, it kept trying to escape.  He looked down
at the futilely swimming turtle.  Still it was trying to return to its
life.  He knelt and placed his hand on the turtle's shell, being careful
to avoid the clawed feet.  "I thank you for your life and for the
lesson you have given me.  I shall remember, and honor the memory of
you," Cano said. He started to rise, but hesitated.  "I too
shall not give up, I will keep trying.” He then rose, and moved away from the
dying giant.

Next, he located the
spear point that had been bitten off and tucked it carefully into his
loincloth.  He took the braided grass in one hand and the spear in the
other and started to drag the turtle back to camp.  It was difficult and
he soon found that it was easier if he tied the grass rope around the spear
shaft.  Then he was able to drag the shell along without his hands being
cut by the grass.  He found that by pulling the turtle through wet grass
and shallow water, the turtle shell slid easily over the mud and grass. 
The only problem he had was when he tried to cross a deeper stretch of
water.  The turtle somehow righted its self and tried to swim away. 
Cano was startled, but managed to drag it back to land.  It was difficult
to believe that a headless turtle would try to swim away.  He smiled to
himself; he could see trying to convince Gennos that a dead turtle swam away.

When he was half way
back to camp Cano was questioning the wisdom of killing the big turtle. 
Next time I'll go for something lighter, he thought.

When he reached camp he
was breathing heavily. Na'pe got excited about the turtle.  Cano had given
her one of the small spearheads he had found in the cave and she used it to cut
out the turtle from its shell.  She called to Gennos and asked him to
gather some green wood stakes so that she could cook the meat.  When he
deposited an armload of them at her feet, she gave him a dazzling smile for his
work.  She soon had juicy pieces of turtle steak roasting over the fire.
When she had that done, she also placed smaller pieces on short stakes and
rocks near the fire to dry them.

Cano sat down and looked
around the camp. The smell of the fire and the roasting meat made him feel
good.  The river could be heard softy running by and there was a slight
breeze that blew the tall grass in slow waves.  The danger from Lomasi
seemed to be slipping away as the days passed.  He looked around for Dola,
but he was not to be seen.  When he asked Na'pe about him she just pointed
upstream, but she kept working on the turtle shell.  Cano settled back and
relaxed.  It was a good day to be alive.

Meanwhile upstream, Dola
and the fearful frog killer Whiteface were gathering their share of the group's
food.  He let Whiteface keep any of the frogs she caught.  To be
truthful, when she got a frog she quickly devoured it.  He didn't want to
take the chance of getting bit in a dispute over a frog.

Whiteface was tracking
an elusive frog and Dola was wading through a stand of thick rushes when he saw
a nest of water bird eggs near a tall dead tree.  He moved toward them
quickly, but still he watched the waters in order to avoid any snakes that
might be near.  He had just reached the nest when the dead tree came to
life.  It charged him with a blood chilling squawking hiss.  He
leaped back, but the tree had suddenly changed into a long beaked water
bird.  It was taller than he was and it came straight for his eyes. He
threw up his arms, but the bird had the element of surprise on his side and it
was incredibly fast. Its razor sharp beak missed his eye, but cut a deep furrow
in his cheek. He knew he was cut, but he felt no pain. The bird struck again,
the beak got him in the chest and the bird nipped off a small piece of
flesh.  Dola stumbled back trying to get away from the flashing beak; he
drew his hand across his cheek and found blood. His feet became entangled in
the swamp grass and he fell.  The bird continued its attack.  Dola
rolled over and tried to crawl away, the bird attacked the back of his head and
shoulders.  The bird seemed to be everywhere with its stabbing beak and
flapping wings. He continued to try and roll away so that he could reach his
spear, but the bird was too fast. Suddenly there was a flash of black and the
bird stopped attacking.  Dola saw Whiteface attacking the bird.  It
was almost comical if it wasn't so serious. The small wolf barked and lunged at
the bird that towered above her.  The water hampered her movements but she
carried on the attack. Rushing in and then charging away before the
lightning-like beak could find her.  The water was a help for the bird. Its
thin legs moved without restriction, conversely the little wolf was slowed by
it.  This did nothing to slow her attack; what she lacked in size she made
up in noise and confusion.

Dola was able to locate
his spear and charged at the bird.  He came at the bird from the side, and
the bird leaped away with a flap of its wings.  Suddenly there was
silence, the bird looked from side to side at its attackers, and the little
wolf looked to Dola. He took a breath and decided that the best way to finish
this fight was by using his spear, but before he could draw back to hurl it,
the bird made its move.

The bird
wanted no part of fighting two foes at the same time.  It looked from one
to the other and then leapt into the air with a flapping of its huge wings.
Dola started to throw his spear, but stopped for fear of loosing it in the tall
grass.  He had enough trouble without having to explain how he lost his
spear.

Silence again settled on
the area.  Whiteface waded over to Dola and rubbed against his legs.
Kneeling down Dola patted her head.  "You are a good wolf, you helped
me.  I will not forget." He leaned down and picked up the small wolf,
she started licking the blood from his face; soon she had cleaned the
wound.  Gently he set her back down.  Although his face and chest
hurt it was his pride that was hurt the most. He shook his head; Cano gets
scars from a bear and a mammoth.  What do I get? Pecked in the face by a
bird, he thought. Even then, a small wolf saves me.  I will have to work
on this story before I'll be able to tell of it at the campfire. Still shaking
his head he waded over to the nest and gathered the eggs and then headed back
toward camp
.

Before he reached camp
Cano came rushing toward him, weapons in hand.  "Are you all right? I
heard noise and thought you might be in trouble."  He noticed Dola's
cheek, which was bleeding again.  "What happened?"

"It is nothing. I
had a little trouble, but I'm all right."  Dola was embarrassed and
didn't want to talk about his encounter.

Cano wasn't going to be
put off with an answer like that.  "There was much noise and now you
return to camp bleeding.  Tell me what happened; was it a bear or a gator
that you fought with?"

Dola knew
that sooner or later he would have to tell what had happened.  "It
was a bird that cut me.  It was hidden and I didn't see it until it
attacked me. It was a big bird and Whiteface saved me.  When I got my
spear it flew away."  He could see the disbelief on Cano's face fade
into a smile.  "Really, it was a bird that did it, a really big
bird," Dola said.