Throwing both hands up the painted youth replied, “No mischief at all sir Knight! I only know it took all my strength just to get him to lay upon the cart! Each day as night fell, he grew heavier. When we came here last evening, the wheel of the pushcart came off. I couldn’t try to move him until morning and just before dawn, the hyenas attacked us. Long as he is on the cart during the day, Oboe can be pulled along. He is so weak, I think he will soon die.” Just after the youth mentioned death, an unnaturally cold wind rolled in from the desert. It was the Chief who said after a hard shiver, “Hoooo! I never expected to again feel the chill of a winter wind living here.”
The chill wind also affected the Knight as well for goose-pimples stood high upon his skin. The Chief’s words sparked within the Knight’s memory. His wife’s skin had been cold as well and then there was her other warning about ‘bringing the traveler to her at the dam before the last rays fell today.’ Looking to the sky, morning was in its full glory and soon the sun would blaze upon the land. However, the Knight noticed an insignificant gathering of clouds in the sky which should not be. The rainy season was long over and there would be none for months to come. His decision was made. Hastily, he and the Chief set to the task of repairing the cart with the Old Father still upon it. Based on Qatula’s account, if they took him off the small cart they’d never get him back on. Difficult as the task was, they were able to make passable repairs to the wheel and get underway.
Shortly before the sun reached the midday mark in the sky, a much larger pack of hyenas had found the bodies of several of their kind. Two were the dominant female and male of a rival pack. As the much larger dominant female of the master pack’s nose took in the scent of her dead rival, she picked up the scent of a strange male creature that had made the kill. For certain it was not a lion. There were similar scents too and one of the strange creatures was near death. Whatever these creatures were, they posed a threat to this territory. The dominant female would not have it. Cackling for her packmates, the female loped off into the cypress forest after these strange interlopers. With the largest and most fearsome of all the desert hyena packs behind her, the interlopers would soon find themselves as a fine feast!
It was as the youth said, as time went on the old man grew weaker and what should have been a simple matter for one man to handle, saw them all putting forth maximum effort. Both men put an arm around the two pushcart handles opposite the other and drove the cart further with the youth between them pushing with both hands. The Knight kept his shield on right arm while the Chief’s hung from his left. Both held their spears in their shield hand. Should anything come along they would be at a disadvantage to attack but not to defend. While pushing the cart over a path never intended for carts while huffing and blowing to keep his wind the Chief asked, “Is this damn thing getting heavier?” Looking down to see the ever deepening cartwheel tracks the Knight grunted, “Absolutely.”
Looking up through the spindly but heavy cypress leaf canopy, the Knight’s dark brown eyes could see the sun had reached its apogee but they were not near the halfway mark to the dam. Another thing which had not escaped his notice was the summer breezes were now cold wind and thick white clouds were gathering. At the speed they now traveled, they would barely reach the dam by sunset. In addition to the mysterious dying old man growing heavier with each passing hour, doubling their efforts would see them all too tired to go on in less than an hour.
Going faster was not possible and going slower meant not meeting the deadline. His wife said for him to use his better judgment. But what to do? Suddenly, from far back down the path towards the river mouth the Knight heard the last sound he wanted to hear ... hyenas. From the sound of their cackling, they were busy exploring this new area. Soon, the novelty of the forest ferns would wear off and they would be upon them. “Chief, our hyena friends will return shortly.” Looking up from his toil to see the seriousness in the Knight’s eyes the Chief grunted, “Odin’s teeth! How many?” Trying his best to be cheerful the Knight replied, “a few more than before!”
Casting about for an easier way to get the cart to the dam the Chief then quipped, “To bad this damned cart can’t float! All we’d have to do is use our spears to pole it along.” The thought struck the Knight for a moment. Strangely enough, the pushcart was remarkably similar to a flat-bottomed barge in design just smaller. However, with the old man getting heavier as time went on it was likely the impromptu craft would sink. Combined with the occasional crocodile taking up residence in the lake, the idea of floating the cart wasn’t too attractive an idea. Once more his wife’s words, “use your better judgment” rang out in his mind. “That’s not a bad idea. We may have to go with that if things get bad.”
For some reason, the Chief was not encouraged by the Knight’s words. Just under the sound of the growing wind, the Chief could now hear the cackling of multiple hyenas getting closer. Looking to the youth who now had his back against the rear of the cart and pushing with all his might the Chief said, “Boy, get yourself up on the cart and take my spear!” All too eager to stop pushing the youth replied, “You sure you two old timers will be able to push this thing without me?” The Chief’s eyes grew wide with indignation but it was the Knight who replied, “We’ll manage. The question is; can someone like you barely out of soiled swaddling and smelling of teats handle a spear?”
Infuriated, the youth nearly fell backwards as he suddenly stopped pushing. The sudden difference in the cart’s weight without his assistance was markedly noticeable by the two men. “Hooooof!” bellowed the Chief as he had to bear down considerably. To the Knight’s surprise the added weight caused him to put far more effort to the task as well. Quickly, the youth climbed aboard the cart and took the Chief’s spear and announced, “Oh and my name is not ‘Boy’! It’s Qatula! Hey, this is a nice spear....” Movement through the fern covered forest floor caught Qatula’s attention. “Um, something’s coming. A lot of somethings!”
Both men looked over their shoulders and saw the green forest floor come alive like small ocean waves as dozens of hyenas charged towards them! “Odin’s Mother!” Though the Knight never called upon the Gods for aid, he did appreciate the Chief’s sentiment. With his usual calm the Knight said, “That’s a lot of hyenas.” Turning back to pushing the cart the Knight said to Qatula, “Looks like we’re going to have to make for the lake after all. We’ll have to go up the path a bit further for higher ground and a better run at the lake down the slope. The last thing we’ll want is to get stuck in the mud or rocks. Qatula, the hyenas will take some time to feel us out first before they attack. We must use that time to get further along. It will be up to you to keep them at bay until we do!”
Seeing the sudden respect and expectation from both men bolstered young Qatula’s spirits. Taking the borrowed spear firmly in hand, the youth nodded his head once sharply in acknowledgement. Not long after, the dozens of dark forms broke through the ferns surrounding the path yipping and cackling loudly amongst each other. Without looking up the Knight said, “As long as your eyes are the only ones they see, they’ll think we are some strange creature and will be cautious. Wait until one gets very close and stab it with the spear! Kill it if you can, but make sure it gets hurt. That will cause the others to be more cautious. Once they get brave enough, they’ll all come at once.”
© 2011 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.
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