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springtime rites, the Slaying of the Bear. One of the ways of Sky God that had seeped into the Red Deer tribe over the years was a great reverence for the mighty cave bear, and each spring, as the bears returned to the earth from their winter’s hibernation, one particular bear was chosen to be a ritual sacrifice.
    Only the initiated men of the tribe were allowed to partake in this sacred hunting ceremonial. Although Ronan and his agemates had not yet participated in the rite, they were well versed in its laws. At his initiation, every boy of the Red Deer was taught the secret language of the hunt, the ritual songs, and the great apology.
    Lying with girls was all very well, but all boys of the Red Deer knew that the surest sign that one was a man was to be in at the death of the sacred bear.
    The Slaying of the Bear was always performed at the dark between Ibex and Salmon Moons, and this year was no different. On the morning they were to make the sacred hunt, Ronan and Tyr and several other initiates clustered together before the river and watched the first light of dawn begin to turn the sky from black to gray.
    “Elder Brother,” Tyr said exultantly, pumping his fist in the air, “I am hoping you are waiting for us this day.”
    One of the tribal beliefs about the cave bear was that he could hear everything one said, even from a great distance. He heard, he remembered, and he took revenge. Consequently, it was forbidden to call the bear by his name, lest he divine the tribe’s plans and avenge himself for their trying to kill him. “Elder Brother” was the secret phrase used by the men of the Red Deer to denote the prey they would be stalking.
    Ronan smiled faintly at the look on Tyr’s face; then he once more inspected the tip of his javelin. The bear was supposed to be killed by one single thrust to its heart, so it was vital that one’s flint points be strong and sharp.
    The men had already spied out the cave in which a particularly big male cave bear had made its home, and their aim was to get there before the bear had left on its daily search for sustenance. Cave bears were almost pure vegetarians, and to maintain their immense size and weight, they had to consume vast amounts of food.
    “Are the boys ready?” It was Erek, the tribe’s chief hunter, speaking. Two dogs trailed at his heels as he walked around the group of men, checking to see that all were in place.
    Ronan answered for the initiates, “We are ready.”
    “There must be no talking,” Erek warned.
    Ronan scowled. “Sa,” he said shortly. “We know.”
    Erek glared at this upstart youngster who dared to speak to him with an edge to his voice. The chief hunter was a big, burly man who looked somewhat like a bear himself. He had been the one to slay the bear for the last several years. There were some who said that his glare alone was enough to cow Elder Brother into submission. It did not cow Ronan, however, who lifted his arrogant nose and stared back.
    Erek muttered something that sounded like “insolent puppy,” before he turned away to signal that the line of men was to move forward.
    That was foolish, Ronan thought with irritation as he fell into his place in the hunter’s line. Why antagonize Erek?
    He answered himself immediately: Because he is stupid, and I don’t like taking orders from stupid people.
    The path widened and Tyr came up to walk beside Ronan. Neither boy looked at each other.
    Well, the other half of Ronan’s mind queried ironically, from whom wouldn’t you mind taking orders?
    Ronan’s mouth curled in rueful self-knowledge, and this time he made himself no answer.
    It took the hunters almost two hours to reach the cave in the hills where Elder Brother had made his den. The cave had been tunneled into the stone by a stream many years before, but the stream had dried up since and the cave now looked out upon a meadow that would soon be filled with grass and wildflowers. The cave entrance was partially blocked