The Hunter Returns Read Online Free PDF Page A

of the women were supporting Willow between them and guiding her about. Willow hobbled stiffly, painfully, unable to use her injured leg to good advantage. But she must move; the tribe would not stay here and the women knew it. If Willow could not accompany them, she would certainly be left behind.
    Short-Leg looked up at Hawk. “Do not ask me to use that spear, Spear-Maker. I saw the bird fly.”
    Without replying, Hawk broke the spear shaft across his knee and threw the head away. Whether or not the flight of the bird had anything to do with the flight of the spear, it was tribal tradition that spears must be tested in this way. Hawk fashioned another spear.
    This time, when he approached the willows, he was more careful. He had learned something—even a bird that normally flew straight could not do so when it had a broken tail. Hawk added this to his store of knowledge. When he selected another bird he chose the same kind but looked it over carefully to make sure there were no broken feathers.
    Again he went through the exact ritual. When he released the bird, it flew straight as a dart to another bush. Hawk carried the spear back to the fire and gave it to Short-Leg.
    Kar rose and stretched, and looked questioningly about for more meat. There was none. Kar grunted his disappointment and, stooping to pick up his spear and club, went into the forest for wood. From now until the sun rose again, Kar would maintain his vigil.
    The women had put Willow back on her bed of leaves, and the girl lay there with one arm across her eyes, while the old medicine woman changed the compress of herbs that covered her wound.
    Hawk stretched out by the fire and slept a few minutes. When he awoke, it was dark and the tribe had settled down for the night. Save for Kar and one sentry, the rest of the men and boys slept lightly. Hawk tested the night winds.
    There were no scents save some far off, and the inevitable nearer one of the tiger that patrolled the camp, hoping somebody would stray from it. Then, from the distance, Hawk caught the scent of the wooly rhinoceros. It was still alone, and in almost the same place it had been when he first scented it. Hawk lay down to sleep again.
    The camp awoke hungry, for during the night even the berry cakes had been eaten and now there was nothing left. This, too, was a normal part of things. The tribe was a wandering unit with no settled home and not often at the same sleeping place twice. It must constantly follow the game upon which it depended for most of its food, and the time had come again.
    Without ceremony, Wolf started out. The hunters and Kar fell in behind him, but Hawk lingered, as was his duty. Willow rose painfully, and would have fallen had not one of the women caught her. The two women who had helped her yesterday looked questioningly at each other, then at the backs of the men. Fear and doubt were in their faces; they wanted to help the girl but not if helping her would cause them to be left behind. They urged Willow along the line of march, while other women took up Hawk’s extra spears and shafts. Up ahead, one of the men turned impatiently, gestured with his arm, then went on with the other hunters.
    The distance between them and the women who were trying to bring the crippled girl along increased. Hawk stayed behind, spear and club ready. But the women were becoming restless now. Their strength lay in all the men, not in just one, and they knew it. They talked softly among themselves.
    Then, below the crest of another hill, the men stopped.
    Hawk knew why, for scent of the wooly rhinoceros came plainly to his nostrils now. The hunters had not stopped out of consideration for the women, but because they were near game. When Hawk and the women came up, Wolf was on the crest of the hill, looking over. Walking openly, for this was no herd of nervous bison but a savage beast that almost always stood to fight, the rest went up the hill when Wolf beckoned. Hawk looked down on the scene