Free Bonesetter by Laurence Dahners Page B

Let me have some coals?’ This meat is worth a lot more than a few lousy coals!” Then Pell thought of Tando’s wrist... actually, probably Tando’s life. “ Oh well, you did what you could, thanks, Here’s the rest of the meat.” Pell loaded her down with the remainder of the boar, gave her another hug and hurried off with his firepot. “I’ve got to go before it gets dark,” he said over his shoulder.
    The sun had set and it was nearly dark by the time he got back to the little brush-choked gulch. He quickly found the little pile of shavings he had made earlier and this time successfully started them on fire with the little firepot. With twigs he soon had a little fire going. To his surprise he saw that the young wolf was still there. It lay on its side gnawing on the skull of the boar. He had been sure that the wolf would drag itself away by now if it hadn’t already died. H e again thought about killing it for its fur— then he looked the wolf in the eye once again—he decided it wasn’t going to happen.
    Using a brand from the fire for light, he relocated up into the little tunnel in the brush. He moved into the area he had blocked off. He enlarged that little area by tearing out branches and limbs, chiefly to make the roof higher, piling the wood in the uphill part of the tunnel. Once he was sure that a small fire wouldn’t catch the entire brush pile he started a little fire from his brand. He unrolled his bundle and laid out his sleeping furs on the downhill side of the fire. He wanted to be able to make an escape if the brush pile did catch on fire.
    Finally he sliced some strips off the pig haunch that he had kept. He roasted them over the little fire. For some reason this meal tasted better than any mea l he had had before in his life. However, as he gorged on the pig his fear and dread, dread of a life alone, returned. Finally, after stoking his fire, he lay down to sleep. He tossed and turned a while, torn between feelings that he didn’t deserve to live after what he had done to Tando, and his burning hatred for Denit. He also felt sick betrayal over his lack of support from Boro, Gontra and Exen. Over and over he wondered how it would ever be possible for him to feed himself. Maybe he would gain his coordination soon and get better at throwing?
    He briefly pictured himself returning to the Aldans triumphant, having become a mighty hunter, a hunter who m they desperately needed. Eventually he drifted into a sleep tormented by visions of Tando and his deformed arm. These shifted seamlessly into visions of Durr’s not too different deformity then of Tando/Durr ly ing broken at the bottom of the C liff. He awakened repeatedly in cold sweats, often imagining that he could see the eyes of enormous night cats at the periphery of the light from his fire. He built up his little fire after each run of nightmare s and then struggled to get back to sleep.
    The next day dawned clear and cold again. Pell woke exhausted but was relieved to see no evidence of impending rain. Bad weather would make his journey to ravine of the cold spring s much more difficult.
    First he worked on the bundle his mother had given him. Using some of the thongs and leather straps within, he fashioned a shoulder sling so that he could carry it easily . He spent time putting some good coals from the fire into his little firepot. Then he picked up his spear and made his way out of the little tunnel.
    To his amazement the young wolf was still there. She was sitting up and appeared to be waiting for Pell’s next move. When he set out on his journey she laboriously got to her feet and then limped along behind him. The wolf was almost carrying one hind paw but, after they’d been traveling a while, the wolf seemed to warm up. After a bit more she seemed to have little difficulty keeping up with Pell. By late morning, limping less, she occasionally ranged ahead a bit. When Pell’s direction turned out to be different than that of the