The First People

Cub had gone over to the shallow stream bed which emptied the valley after the last of the dams. He had quickly gotten engrossed in tossing stones across the stream and at the large rocks which protruded out of the water. He wandered down the stream bank  and was soon out of sight of the camp. He was totally unaware of the several sets of dark yellow eyes which had been watching his progress from a small rise in the stream bank further down stream. The small pack of wolves had been very nervous since the arrival two days ago of the small band of two legged creatures. They had stayed safely downwind and constantly sniffed the air trying to identify the new smells.

 Last night they had silently passed up stream to the spot where the beavers had been killed and carefully smelled the strange new scents which had been imbedded in the ground from the footprints of the intruders. At first light, they had gone to the steam for water and then up on the knoll which they frequently used to spot unwary prey. They were hungry this morning having been two days without a kill and saliva began to flow as they watched the gradual approach of the small boy. Staying low in the grass, they melted back into the taller grass on the far side of the knoll, patiently awaiting their prey. While they normally ran down the weak or lame, working closely as a team, they also were effective lying in wait for unsuspecting game to pass close enough for an easy quick pounce and usually a rather quick kill.

Cub continued downstream until he spotted the small knoll and thought it would be great fun to throw rocks in the stream from the added height. He reached the top of the knoll and had just thrown his first stone when he felt a tremendous pain in the back part of his right thigh. The force of the attack knocked him forward and as he tumbled to the ground he also was thrown over the edge of the embankment and into the stream. Cub screamed in pain and realized with a rising panic that it was a wolf that had locked its jaws on his thigh. He thrashed about screaming in pain. The other three wolves had temporarily skidded to a halt at the top of the knoll having been surprised to see their leader disappear over the edge. Suddenly one of the wolves dropped to the ground. The others paid scare attention as they peered over the edge deciding whether to jump into the water or not. An instant later, a second went down and then the third too was dropped.

Jar had gone to the stream and had trailed Cub on down stream and was quietly approaching about seventy five feet from the base of the knoll when he saw Cub being  attacked by the first wolf. Before he could react the others came into view and he instantly decided that they needed to be dispatched if there was any hope to save Cub. He was thankful for his skill and all the practice with his sling. In less than five seconds, the three wolves were dead without even knowing he was there. Screaming a loud angry cry he ran as fast as he could toward the spot where Cub and the wolf were struggling. The wolf had locked his jaws and despite the water or the strange noisy creature rushing at him he either could not or would not release his hold. Cub was in complete panic and between his struggles and being periodically forced under water, he was not even aware of Jar’s approach. As Jar reached the water, he pulled out his obsidian knife blade and leaped headlong onto the back of the wolf. Jar wrapped his left arm tightly around the middle of the wolf and slashed at his throat with the knife. The first slash cut into the base of the jaw but the second, an instant later, cut the main artery and blood spurted everywhere.