The Trek: Darwin's World, Book II (The Darwin's World Series 2) (29 page)

"I'm thinking we use axes to deepen the notch on this side, just chopping in where the beavers already started. As soon as we're about halfway in, start cutting with the saw on the reverse side. Not deep, though. Take the cut in about a foot, leave a thick hinge for the trunk to pivot on. Then drive in wedges to finish the felling."

"Should work, Sal. But this job is more dangerous because of the wood the beavers cut out on the sides. Use no more than two men at a time for cutting and keep the rest well back until the trunk is down. I wouldn't even tackle it but the wood's just what we're looking for to make wheels. It's big, it's already dry so it won't be likely to crack, and we can probably get all the wheel blanks we want just from this one tree."

"Maybe so, Colin. Might need another tree, depending on knots and such. No way to tell until we start sawing."

"I'll leave you to it, Sal. I'll be back at camp if you need me. Laz said he might take a hunting party southwest and I want to make sure there are still people on duty to defend the camp. We need the food, but I don't want him taking every man that's not working here with you when he goes hunting."

"Makes sense. After we get the tree down we can cut wheel blanks in a day, then move them back to camp. When we’re back, we'd be working but available if you needed us."

"Do that. Piotr is back there now, making bows for the new people. Laz will take a couple of carts with him when he leaves, the ones in the best condition. Lilia's out foraging with some of the women too. And Bear's what, about six now? He's fishing. Kid loves it, and we might get tired of fish before he gets bored with fishing!"

"Can he swim, Colin? In case he falls in, I mean."

"Monika taught him to swim. It's not a good idea to let him swim alone, but he's about half otter in the water. I think if we let him he'd go after some of those big catfish with that little spear he's got!"

The two chuckled and Colin departed for the camp. On the way he saw Elizabeth and Bella. The two had deerskin bags slung over their shoulders alongside their spears and were filling the bags with material they picked from the short grasses that grew here under the trees.

"Is that stuff edible, Elizabeth?"

"I'm not picking it to eat, Colin. This is fluffgrass. We've got a bunch of other fluff we've picked from the cattails downstream, but I wanted to try this too. See what's best at soaking up blood."

"Oh. That makes sense. People are going to get hurt, I suppose. Better to be prepared."

Elizabeth looked at him. "We've also got a lot of women in camp, Colin. We'll be using this for them. Deerskin pads help, but sometimes they just aren't enough. I think if we sew some of the fluff between soft deerskin, it will work a lot better each month when they need the pads."

"Oh. Well, you know best. I'll leave you to it."

The two women shared a smile as Colin walked away. Men! Still clueless, and still easily embarrassed by natural female functions....

Chapter 26

Tex's legs burned. His lungs burned too and his eyes tried to close, but he forced himself to trot ahead. His thick tongue licked dry, cracked lips.

A fleeting thought came and wouldn't go away.
In three days I made up for months in that hospital when my body wouldn't work.

Ahead, the horses were plodding now, strung out as the stronger kept going while the weaker hung back. It was time. Would Roberts' join-up work on these horses in the way the old trainer claimed? If not...well, it wouldn't be the first time Tex had invested work, sweat, and effort, only to get nothing in return. Some of the time he'd ridden the rough stock, some of the time he'd left the arena with nothing but bruises and aches. And finally a horse had put him into a hospital to stay, an experience that marked him, even here.

Tex stopped, swaying. Ahead, the mare he'd decided was the alpha in this small band stood, head down and front legs braced. Tex drank the last of the water in his gourd and chewed the last piece of jerky from his pack while he watched the mare.

Then he turned his back on the horses he'd been pursuing for the past three days and nights and walked away, back toward the shelter he’d built. But first he needed water, and so did the horses. A bright patch of greenery a few hundred yards to the north announced the presence of a spring and Tex headed that way.

Behind him the mare turned and looked after him.

Tex now carried his bow and a ready arrow in his hand. The reata he'd used to force the horses onward hung by a thong attached to his belt. Footsore, nearly exhausted, he walked on, never looking back.

Tex took time to fill his water gourd and drink but left the spring as soon as he finished. The mare was now following, no more than a hundred yards back.

Two hours later he crested a low hill and turned to look over his back trail. For the first time in three days, cracked lips lifted in a grin. The small band of horses was following the mare, about a mile behind her.

It was a start. Just as Monty Roberts had written, the horses had identified with the strange creature that first pursued them, then turned away.

Now they trailed behind him, having taken time to graze and drink from the spring where Tex had refilled his water bottle. He deviated from his path long enough to arrow a young pig from a family group and cut a pork steak for his supper. That night he built a fire and ate, waking up around midnight and eating again. More of the pork, cut from a hindquarter, served for his breakfast the next morning and Tex walked on. Behind him the horses followed, refreshed by their drink and the chance to graze.

But they weren't back to his makeshift corral yet; an attack from a predator, any number of things could still cause the horses to turn away. Time would tell.

#

Colin felt pleased with the way things were going. Matt and Lee had come in with meat from the stag-moose they'd killed and Laz had returned too, carts laden with meat from the creatures Tex called buffalo. Margrette now supervised the smoking operations and the tribe was still feasting on fresh meat and vegetables they’d foraged along the riverbank.

Sal's crew had reduced the large tree to sections cut crosswise through the trunk, then laminated them together ensuring that the sections had been rotated slightly so as not to perfectly line up with the adjacent ones. Sal hoped this practice would strengthen any part of the trunk that might be weaker than another.

The wheels were glued three laminations thick and the necessary holes had been bored. One of the new tribesmen, a former slave, had shown Sal how to use a bow drill. It didn't do to force the drill to penetrate, lest the stone tip shatter; but if the drill-man took his time, the job could be completed without constantly having to replace broken tips. The task required patience more than strength. Rawhide laces through the drilled holes now held the wheels together, reinforcing the hide glue. The center holes for the axle were more time-consuming to cut, but even so another day should see replacement wheels finished for all the carts.

Matt met Lee at the campfire and cadged a late breakfast from Margrette. The vegetables were especially welcome and even the tea seemed tastier. Perhaps it had to do with being away so long, eating mostly meat while they hunted.

The two men found a place to sit and just rested, legs extended, backs against trees. Matt's muscles had ached and even his knee joints had cracked when he got up. The trip back with the meat had been hard, no denying it.

Crews worked on making more rope to replace what had been used while making camp and in the myriad tasks that only rope could do. Matt mused for a moment as he watched. People might think bows and arrows were the difference between bare-subsistence and relative affluence, and certainly they were useful; but rope was the indispensable product that found a thousand uses. Some of the ropes were thin, some thicker; some were made of grass and the better ones had been made from long fibers harvested after the plant stem was crushed. But all of it was useful. Rawhide, too, served a similar purpose and it had qualities that rope and cord couldn't match.

Matt let his mind roam as he looked off to the north. It was late summer now; he'd seen lightning shimmer far to the north last night. But so far only a few wispy clouds indicated the possibility of bad weather here.

We're going farther west
, he thought;
the American natives used portable dwellings made of leather called tepees. Could we do the same? They hauled theirs behind horses, but we have the wheels they never had. Our carts might be able to do the same thing, haul a shelter that could be set up without the need to gather local materials every night.

His thoughts continued to drift. Some of the new-woven ropes would be used in remaking the carts, tying crossmembers in place to stabilize the long poles the tribe used to pull the carts and also for securing replacement axles to the frames. The rebuilt carts would be better than new, because the wood members had dried and worked into a better fit during use. The new wheels would be heavier because of the extra laminations, but they'd be much more durable. A recent development also showed promise, the mixture of beeswax dissolved in oil for greasing the axles.

Hot grease, collected during cooking, served as the primary base for the new axle lubricant. Thin slivers of beeswax were added to the hot liquid and left to dissolve. Periodic stirring ensured the mix blended evenly, and adding more wax thickened the goop. The final product could still be spread, albeit with difficulty, but wouldn't be thin enough to be runny. It would still have to be renewed periodically but probably would last a few days. Time would tell.

Thick leather gaskets sealed the joints and kept most of the grease in place between the axle and the wheel. The loud squealing noise was much suppressed when they tried moving the first of the rebuilt carts.

Lilia had tried waterproofing a piece of deerskin using the grease-beeswax mixture but had given up in disgust. The coated deerskin was heavy, clammy, and smelly. She'd discarded it and gone back to making garments with fringes along the sleeves and legs. The fringes helped keep people dry by dripping some of the water away. In any case, it looked better and was more comfortable to wear. Women now wore deerskin skirts with fringed bottoms. The older women wore sleeveless vests too; younger women frequently wore only the skirts.

Matt and Lee visited various parts of the camp during the day and were well pleased. Laz, Piotr, Colin and Sal had performed well, and Lilia...well, Lilia was more than competent. The waterproofing attempt was one of her few failures.

Margrette managed the kitchen and Elizabeth had amassed a collection of herbs and bandages in expectation of need. In truth, everyone had found a job they were suited for and went about doing it without fuss or excitement.

The major complaint came from Bear, Monika's six-year-old son. He'd been forced to fish only part time after being dragged, protesting all the way, to Sandra and Millie's impromptu 'school'. He even found himself pressed into helping with the smaller children and he looked disgusted whenever that happened. None of the
other
warriors had to tend small children! And did he not have a spear and small bow of his own? But his protests went nowhere and his unhappy expression promised to become permanent.

No one mentioned Tex. If the tribe missed him at all, they didn't remark on it.

#

Tex had built a fire and crawled into his shelter as soon as he returned. Waking only long enough during the night to drink and add wood to the fire, he slept for a full ten hours. Finally the needs of his bladder forced him to crawl out of the shelter and find a convenient bush.

He slung the spear across his back, attached the quiver to his belt, and hung the reata behind that. The gully was a short distance ahead, now sealed at each end. The horses grazed in the lower end and only the stallion seemed restless. He too grazed, but from time to time he paced along the fence that Tex had constructed by bringing up the downed trees. Dragging them into place had been hard work, but if this worked, it would all have been worthwhile.

Tex collected the jug of honey and a handful of the dried grasses he'd cut before starting his epic run. He walked slowly down to the enclosure and pulled back one of the lightweight trees at the end of the upper fence. Closing it behind him, Tex slowly walked into the enclosure.

The stallion showed signs of fight but Tex waved the bow at him and he backed away. Tex poured a small measure of honey over the dried grass and laid it carefully on a flat rock. Slowly walking away, he turned just before he reached the fence and looked at his shadow on the ground. Another, larger, shadow behind his showed that the stallion had followed for a short distance. Tex quietly left the corral as he'd entered it, closing the fence behind him. The horses watched as he slowly walked away.

Tex spent the afternoon scraping the scraps of rawhide he'd retained after cutting the circles for reata thongs. The thongs he cut from these pieces were shorter, but that didn't matter. They worked well for rudimentary horse tack, a hackamore and a set of hobbles. The rawhide was useful but he needed softer leather for a saddle pad. He would use a girth strap woven from grasses for insurance, something similar to what he'd used when riding broncs bareback in rodeos; but the shallow pond would give him the advantage he wanted during the first ride. The horse would be fighting the water's resistance and slippery footing as well as trying to remove Tex.

A softened piece of the rawhide, kept that way by beeswax, would keep the eventual girth strap from irritating the horse's barrel. He laced a piece of rabbit skin, fur left on, into a sleeve for the bottom of the girth strap. The cushion would soften as the horse sweated and would pad the strap. Eventually Tex planned to add loops of leather to the strap to serve as 'stirrups'.

Once he'd have scorned the aid, but Tex hadn't ridden a horse in ten years now. He had been proud of his riding ability downtime. The skill would come back, he was sure of it...but there was no reason to be stupid.