Elephant Song by Barry B. Longyear

Author:Barry B. Longyear [Longyear, Barry B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

The Season the third passed almost without notice; the event being marked only by Cookie Jo being sent back to Miira with a pregnancy that was making her too ill to run the cookhouse. As Thunder of the Fourth year since the crash began, the road had reached the frozen crest where Little Will could stand on the road and look down upon the whiteness of the frozen lakes at the foot of White Top Mountain.

From that same crest she could look east, over the Great Muck Swamp far below, to where the town of Miira was lost in the distant haze. She sadly shook her head at the winding scratch in the planet’s surface that the bullhands were calling “Bull Buster Road.” Eleven men and women had died from accidents; another nine from illness. Over thirty had died in Miira from illness. Besides Dancer, the White Top Mountain Road had claimed the lives of two more bulls: Prima and Sailor, both from the cold. Nineteen bulls left. She looked west. And there were still the lakes to reach.

She turned and walked back to where the gang was camped in a draw that protected them somewhat from the icy winds. Mounds of blankets were gathered around wind-whipped fires as blanket-covered Packy Dern checked the bulls’ blankets and feed. Before she could cross the frozen ground and join Pete’s huddled form, Packy crossed over from the bulls and stopped her.

“Little Will. Tomorrow morning hook Reg up to a wagon and head back to Miira.”

Her eyes opened wide. “Why? The nags do that.”

“Not this time. Reg isn’t taking the cold good. If you don’t get your bull outta these mountains soon, she’ll die.” Packy cocked his head toward the campfires. “We got some sick to go in, too.” He placed a hand upon her shoulder. “Pete looks like he’s down with the bug. Four others.” Packy turned back to the bulls. “Get some sleep. I can’t spare anyone. You’ll be pushing your parade by yourself—”

• • •

Three days later, the air warm and lazy around her, Little Will half dozed as she sat astride Reg’s neck. Reg’s harness was hooked to one of the fill wagons, the wagon’s bay held five very sick men and women. One of them was Shiner Pete. Reg was lumbering north up the Miira-Kuumic road toward home. At odd moments, sensing Little Will was asleep, Reg would come to a halt and begin pulling up grass from the roadside. Little Will would tap the beast’s shoulder with her bullhook, and Reg would move off again. Then, again, Little Will would doze.

In her mind she saw herself a hundred steps in front of the bull, urging it on. She walked the road ahead of the bull, seeing what was around the corners. A curious dream. She stopped in the center of the road, turned back, and waited for Reg. After a while, the elephant-drawn wagon appeared from around a bend in the road. Sitting astride Reg’s neck was a sleeping Little Will.

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