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over but this time Gontra was on his feet staring wide eyed at his own finger. Pell saw that the finger remained as crooked as ever. With a cry Gontra bolted out of the cave and into the night. Pont lay cursing on the floor of the cave, holding grimly to the small of his back. Roley got to his feet, took his good spear and followed Gontra out into the night. Tonday collapsed to the floor, sobbing hysterically. Pell thought in dismay that Gontra, injured, weaponless and drugged, made an easy victim for the large cats that prowled the night. Hopefully Roley would be able to bring him back soon.
    They began to eat the pig but the normally happy mood that accompanied the feasting after a big kill was clouded with a somber pall. Before they finished, Roley came back, a shambling Gontra in tow. Moods improved, but Gontra’s deformed finger and Tonday’s persistent sobbing damped any festivities for the rest of the night. No one started telling stories. Certainly, no one was going to drum on Gontra’s log this night. After eating, Gontra who had sobered considerably, went to speak to the healer. An argument erupted and it became apparent from Pont’s shouting that the healer attributed the persistent deformity of Gontra’s finger to poor patient cooperation. Pell expected Gontra to be angry but Gontra soon took another dose of hemp and lay down again on the healer’s furs. Several times during the evening, bellows of agony erupted from that part of the cave, the last episode waking Pell from a sound sleep with his heart pounding in his chest.
     

Chapter Two

 
    The next morning broke to a persistent somber mood. Gontra’s finger remained deformed, but was now even more swollen and angry looking. Tonday, intermittently sobbing, refused to rise from her bedding. Pont denounced Gontra’s lack of cooperation to Roley in a stage whisper that was heard by everyone. Lessa tried to counter the mood with tea and soup that she brewed in two of Lenta’s big pots, chanting a pleasant tune while she was at it. It helped little, though the chronically hungry tribe gathered readily enough to eat.
    Soon after downing some of the soup and tea Roley announced that everyone could hunt as they liked, he wasn’t organizing anything—then stalked from the cave, alone but for a couple of spears. Pell thought for moment about trying to join him, but before he could, Denit scrambled to his feet and ran out after his father . Pell certainly didn’t intend to go anywhere that Denit had headed, so he settled back down, hoping someone else would ask him to hunt with them.
    With little ceremony, the hunters left in ones and twos and it soon became evident that no one was going to ask Pell to go with them. He unwrapped his fingers and flexed the pointer finger that had been dislocated. It was still somewhat swollen but hurt much less and seemed to be moving pretty well. He bound it along his long finger again , gathered his two char tipped spears and went out to hunt by himself.
    The sky was dotted with small clouds but brisk winds cut under Pell’s furs with a cold bite. He stopped down at the little stream that ran below the cave and filled his water skin. The water was so frigid that he could hardly stand to put his hand in to fill the skin. When he brought the icy water skin out of the water he hung it outside his furs so it wouldn’t suck out all of his warmth. He meandered down toward the flats a while but when the flats actually came into view their sere grasses were empty of game. Besides, he thought to himself, the big game found on the flats wasn’t something he could hunt by himself
    He found himself walking up the little gulch where Denit had killed the small boar. He walked up into it and came to the area where it was choked with brush. He contemplated the little hole in the brush that the pig had run into, become trapped and then was killed by Denit. It looked much like the small tunnel in the brush that went through to the other