Moving to the crack in the cave, I look out over the steppes. The ravine is flooded, and I am glad the cave is elevated enough that the rising water should not be able to reach here. It would have to rain for many, many more days for the water to rise that much. I hope it doesn’t.
We need more wood.
As it is, the wood in the forest will be wet, and I won’t be able to put it in the cache above the cave for fear it would rot before it could be used. We have also lost days of work at a crucial time. This means no more wood has been gathered, no more rabbits or fish have been caught, and no more plants have been added to our baskets.
At least we have worked on making a baby.
A lot.
I smile and walk back in to find my mate cooking, using her clay pots and making flowing, bird-like noises. There is rhythm to the sounds, and one sound flows into the next without pause. She just started doing this the prior day, and I find it much more agreeable than the noise she usually makes.
I go to her side and sit, resting my head on her shoulder and watching her mix things together, coming up with much more flavorful foods than I ever had on my own. I run my nose against her neck and sigh, content.
Even with the work of chopping the soggy wood, it’s too cold to remove my wrap.
The rain has finally stopped, but we have been left with temperatures that are enough to freeze the ground in the morning, and the afternoon sun does little to warm it up. Under the cover of the pine trees where the sun does not reach, the cold is bitter, but at least the wind is minimized.
Beh is near a small clearing of brush, working diligently.
I have no idea what she is trying to do and have already given up trying to get her to help me with the wood even though I made another flint axe the right size for her smaller hands. She is determined to do whatever it is she is doing instead. All I know for sure is that she hauled one of the old furs all the way down here even though it had been recently washed in the lake along with everything else.
Kneeling in front of a large log on the ground, I’m focused on my work and not paying close attention to her as she starts making a lot of loud noises. The sounds are not the alarming ones but the ones she seems to make when she is happy about something, and there is even some laughing accompanying them. I pay no attention because I’m almost done chopping through the large piece of wood on the ground in front of me, and I don’t want to break the rhythm. I’m focusing hard, and I’m briefly startled when Beh steps right up in front of me to drop a pile of fur and sticks at my feet.
I glance up at her, somewhat annoyed by the interruption, and then down at the pile. Beh continues to make excited noises as she kneels down and spreads out the hide on the sides of which she has attached two long poles. When I look closer, I can see she has cut strips of leather, shoved them through holes in the hide, and then wrapped the straps around the poles to hold it all together. The thick branches are long, and the ends of the poles stick out farther than the hide itself.
I haven’t the slightest idea what it is supposed to be.
I take a long breath, huff it out of my nose, and go back to chopping.
Beh makes more noises, which I try to ignore as I finish with the wood. The damp chips clinging to my arm are itchy, and I just want to get this done and return to the cave with at least a little bit of wood to try to dry by the fire. The cold is an indication of how little time we really have left, and now that I have a mate to protect, it would not do to have me freeze to death looking for wood in the snow instead of keeping her warm in our furs.
“Ehd!”
I keep chopping.
“Ehd!”
I wipe my forehead as I break through the piece I have been working on and go on to the next log.
“EHD!”
I finally glance up, and Beh’s eyes blaze down at me. She makes a lot more noise and points down to the sticks and hide again.
She’s covered it with the chopped wood.
The entire hide holds not just what I have cut up but also some of the branches that were lying around loose and work well for rekindling the morning coals. On the hide is far more wood than either of us can carry in many trips back to the cave. Beh reaches down and grasps the ends of the two sticks on one side of the hide and stands—raising the whole thing off the ground. The hide does not touch at all—just the other two ends of the branches. She takes a couple of steps backwards, and the whole pile moves with her.
Now I understand what she’s been doing, and my eyes open wide at her discovery. I stand and approach her, reaching out to run my hand along one of the long poles. Beh smiles and makes more sounds as she drags it a little farther.
I catch up to her and take the ends of the poles in my own hands. I lift the whole thing up a little, and I can hardly believe how light it is. There has to be something wrong with the wood we’ve gathered. Maybe it’s hollow.