Nanoprep 2023 Day 9: From the Plains to the Mountain
By Robin de Voh on 2023-10-12
He had hunted this bison for a long time, multiple nights, and he could feel in his muscles he was getting tired. But so was the bison, he could tell. The tracks were less spaced out, and at times it seems the animal had stumbled or almost stumbled. It was just a matter of perseverance at this point. He grabbed his spear, packed up his sleeping fur, slung it around his shoulder and started all over again.
Another day spent on the plains, on the hunt.
The days were hot, but he knew he had to keep going. The hunts had not been fruitful, and the berries and edible greens they used to supplement their meals were also growing less well. His tribe needed this, and he would be damned if he would accept defeat at this point. He was not out here alone, but he was the furthest along. Behind him, a group was following at a slower pace, ready to catch up to both him and the bison once he'd caught it. Then they would carve it up, feast on the parts they could not bring back, and cook and preserve what they could. Then they would make the trek back and share with everyone this blessing.
He missed his wife, his kids, his house. He worried about his wife, who had fallen somewhat ill recently. He also missed the stories the elder would tell at the village fire every night. It motivated him more to finish this soon and return home.
He clenched his teeth and increased his speed.
In the distance he could see a mountain. This could be beneficial, the bison might not be able to increase its distance as quickly as otherwise, as the more jagged landscape at its base would slow it down even further.
But that day would also not be the day he caught it. Just before the sun went down, however, he found that the tracks had become harder to read, due to other tracks joining it. They seemed to be other bison tracks as well. Was he approaching the herd? If so, that only increased his odds. What if there were older bison, or bison calves, they'd be even easier to catch. And perhaps, if the herd was stationary, he could just wait until the follow group caught up to him, and they could mount a bigger attack and catch even more.
He grinned and scouted for a place to sleep. A big but dead tree had a bit of a burrow below it, and he set up camp there for the night, after making sure nothing was in there ready to jump him.
He didn't make a fire. Don't want to be seen. He slept well.
The day after, it only took him a few hours before he saw something moving in the distance. Not just one thing moving, but multiple. The bison HAD brought him to the herd, but he also noticed something else. The mountain wasn't actually a mountain. It was big, like a mountain, but it was straight. And it seemed to contain squares on the outside, open to the elements. Hollow. There were smaller ones like it nearby, but they were entirely separated.
While continuing onwards towards the herd, he wracked his brain. Something about them was familiar, but for the longest time he couldn't place it. Then, when he'd almost stopped thinking about it, he suddenly remembered -- his village's elder had spoken of these 'straight mountains', and how they were made by their ancestors. Nobody, however, knew what they were for. They didn't seem good to live in, with the open holes, and with how high they were. Nobody wants to be that high. Nothing could grow on it, or in it, the elder had also said. They were there, but they were useless to them. He had never seen them for himself.
Evidently the bison felt different. He got close enough to use the only looking stick the village owned. He pressed it to his eye and he could see far in the distance. On the lowest point of the straight mountain, there was a big opening in one of the sides, and he could see bison moving in and out. He no longer knew which one he'd been tracking -- a downside -- but he could see there were definitely calves and older bison as well -- an upside.
When he stood still and concentrated enough, he could vaguely see grass around the base of the mountain, as well as inside it. He wasn't entirely sure, but if he was right, it was likely their safe space.
With a bit of luck, it was only open on one side and they could trap some in there.
He decided to wait for the group following him. He could barely contain his joy.
In a few days, they would bring back a feast for everyone. His children would eat well, his wife would be able to get some of her strength back. They would all be okay for a little while longer.
He would sit at the village fire at night and ask for permission to speak from the Elder.
And he would speak to them of Bison Mountain.