I think she already has another baby in her; she hasn’t had her bleeding time for quite a while, but I want to make sure.
As the seasons pass, our children grow.
I awake to Lah and Beh making soft sounds by the fire.
Lee is stretched out beside me, and I am amazed at how long he is. I’m sure he will be a tall, strong hunter when he is fully grown. Someday, he will make a good mate.
Of course, I still need to find another tribe.
It is a thought that comes to my mind often now with both of the children growing so fast and learning so many things. Beh has been teaching Lah how to boil water, using rocks heated by the fire, as well as showing both children the inside of the flat thing and pointing to different flowers and trees outside. Lee has been trying to help me make tools from flint, though so far, he has only ended up with broken pieces of stone. He’s learned to set traps for rabbits and caught his first one just a few days ago.
Beh makes noise at both of them all the time, and they make noises right back at her. I don’t mind though. The constant sounds remind me that they are all here with me. They can make as much noise as they like as long as we all stay together.
Though we haven’t seen anyone since the man who attacked Beh, I still wonder what others will think of their sounds. I’m concerned it will make it hard to join another group if we do find one. I know we need to search, and with spring near, it will be a good time to travel to find other people. If we don’t find anyone before summer, we can make our way back and start saving for winter again.
Though the cave seems smaller now that Lee and Lah are bigger, the work goes much faster with them helping. Of course, now that they no longer drink their mother’s milk, much more food needs to be gathered, too.
Another reason to find a tribe.
I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. I scratch at my stomach for a moment as I watch Beh and Lah by the fire, making breakfast. Lah’s hair is lighter than Beh’s—almost like mine—and it is long enough to cover her shoulder blades now. I would like to watch them all morning, but I need to go outside to relieve myself.
I urinate into the ravine and think about how lucky I am to have Beh, Lee, and Lah. Even though I have tried over and over again, I have not managed to put another baby inside of Beh. I wonder now if we will be able to make any more. She does not have bleeding times, which is nice because she never makes me wait, but it doesn’t seem right for a woman as young as she is.
Still, both of our children have lived past toddler age, which doesn’t always happen. Neither of them has fallen sick, and they are both strong.
I yawn again, scratch the stubble on my chin, and wrap my fur back around me to ward off the morning chill. I walk slowly back to the front of the cave, inhaling the clear, fresh air and listening to the sounds of birds. They remind me that we will be able to hunt for eggs not too long from now, and Lee loves to climb the trees.
“Lee!”
My son beams at me as I enter the cave, makes sounds at his mother, and then grabs the small spear I made for him. He is still young for hunting larger animals, but I know he wants to try, and we need the meat. The spring plants are still hard to find, and I’m tired of rabbit.
Lah makes gruff noises at her brother and Beh, but Beh responds loudly, and Lah grumbles as she sits next to the fire and begins to fiddle with fresh grasses. She’s been weaving new mats and has already surpassed her mother’s skills. Lee follows me out of the cave, his sounds diminishing quickly.
He doesn’t make noises when his mother and sister are not near us, which I like.
We travel up the cliff to the high steppes. The wind blows much harder here, and I wrap my fur a little tighter around my shoulders as we walk toward the area where I spotted the antelope herd the day before. Lee walks silently behind me as we move through the grass to the far side. It takes some time to reach the area since the herd has moved to fresher ground.
We find a group of rocks and crouch behind them to watch the herd. There are a few pregnant females but no young for us to hunt yet. Lee begins to fidget as I watch the movements of the animals, and I place my hand on his leg to still him. I point across the field toward a single female who has walked away from the herd. As we watch her, she approaches a large puddle of melted snow to drink.
I think it will be a good place to dig a pit trap, but we will have to wait until the herd moves away. I know Lee will be disappointed, but we won’t be able to start until nightfall. I decide to head back home to eat. We will return later.
Before I manage to stand up to go back to the cave, the herd begins to move toward us. I glance across the field just as several of the antelope begin to run away from the large puddle and the lone female. She raises her head, but before she has a chance to run, men appear with spears in their hands and surround her.