The Elk-Dog Heritage by Don Coldsmith

Author:Don Coldsmith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2012-05-22T04:00:00+00:00

21

The hunters lay hidden in the grass, among scrubby bushes along the rimrock. The elk moved closer in a leisurely manner. Heads Off gripped his lance and tried to relax for the interminable time of waiting. He had chosen this weapon in preference to the bow, as he was more familiar with it.

The older hunters of the Bowstring Society had taken great pleasure in organizing the hunt. Aiee, it was like the old days! Rapidly but cautiously the hunters were deployed in a long arc along the broken, rocky crest of the hill. Part of the skill involved was that of guessing which way the drifting elk herd would move. Now it appeared that the judgment of the Bowstrings was good. The elk were moving directly into the desired area.

White Buffalo had given them a favorable vision, though he admitted his medicine was better with buffalo than with elk.

The horses had been left at the village. Odd, thought Heads Off, crouching against his limestone rock. The People have had horses only a few years and already it is common knowledge: buffalo are easily hunted on horse-back but elk are not. No one would even consider a run with a lance at one of the big deer.

The herd moved closer, and Heads Off tried hard to remain perfectly motionless. An ant crawled across the toe of his moccasin, across its upper rim, and onto the bare skin of his ankle. The tickling sensation was almost more than he could bear. Yet he must remain still. The existence of the entire Elk-dog band of the People might depend on it. The food represented by the herd now approaching could easily make the difference in survival or starvation in the Moon of Hunger.

He could now see movement through the thin screen of sumac bushes in front of him, and the ant was forgotten. An old cow elk, apparently the leader of the herd, was picking her way carefully across the flat hilltop. The others straggled behind her.

The position of the hunters had been chosen carefully so that the slight breeze would be from behind the animals, toward the men. This would prevent their discovery until the last moment.

But now, with the leading animals well within the curve of the hunters’ hiding places, stray puffs of wind might give the alarm at any time. Already the old lead cow was nervously looking around, head high and nostrils flared. Behind her, a yearling male snorted nervously and a huge bull with a magnificent set of antlers raised his head to investigate.

Heads Off was so intent on watching that he was not even aware of the first shot. The hunters were to wait until Big Bow released the first arrow, and then all would shoot at once. The spearmen would rush in from the sides of the arc, attempting to head off as many animals as could be turned back again toward the bowmen.

The yearling bull suddenly sank to his knees and rolled over on his side, kicking feebly.

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