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He knew fro with the Ramudoi that the water altered the true position of the fish It wasn’t where it seemed to be—the Mother’s way to hide Her creatures until Her secret was revealed As the fish neared, he adjusted his aim to compensate for the refraction of the water He leaned over the side, waited, then hurled the harpoon off the bow
And with equal force, the s its skewed course, out toward the middle of the river But his aim had been true The point of his harpoon was deeply eeon—with little effect The fish was far fro upstream The rope uncoiled rapidly, and, with a jerk, the slack ran out
The boat was yanked around, nearly pitching Jondalar overboard As he grabbed for the side, the paddle bounced up, teetered, and fell into the river He let go to reach for it, leaning far over The boat tipped He clutched for the side At that eon found the current and plowed upstrea hi a bruise on his shin, as the sone before
He grabbed for the side and moved forward, round-eyed with fear and wonder, as he watched the riverbanks speeding past He reached for the line pulled taut into the water, then jerked, thinking that e the harpoon Instead the bow dipped so low that the boat shipped water The sturgeon dodged, careening the small canoe back and forth Jondalar held on to the rope, lurching from side to side
He didn’t notice when he passed the boat-building clearing, and he didn’t see the people on the beach staring agape as the boat sped upstrea over the side, both hands on the rope, struggling to pull out the harpoon
“Do you see that?” Thonolan asked “That brother ofnow” His grin turned to guffaws “Did you see hio?” He slapped his thigh, brihter “He didn’t catch a fish, the fish caught him!”
“Thonolan, it’s not funny,” Markeno said, having difficulty keeping a straight face “Your brother is in trouble”
“I know I know But did you see him? Hauled upriver by a fish? Tell me that’s not funny!”
Thonolan laughed again, but he helped Markeno and Barono lift a boat into the water Dolando and Carolio cli upstream as fast as they could Jondalar was in trouble; he could be in real danger
The sturgeon eakening The harpooning was draining its life away, the drag of the boat and theIt only gave Jondalar ti He was far upriver; he didn’t think he’d been as far since that first boat ride with snow and howling winds It suddenly occurred to hi hauled any farther upstream
He let go of the side and reached for his knife But as he pulled the antler-handled stone blade frole, tried to rid itself of the painful point It thrashed and struggled with such force, the bow dipped under every time the fish dove Overturned, the wooden canoe would still float, but upright and filled ater it would drop to the bottom He tried to cut the rope as the boat bobbed and dipped and jerked fro toward him low in the water with the speed of the current, until it bu the knife from Jondalar’s hand
He recovered quickly and tried to pull up on the rope to cause a little slack so the canoe wouldn’t dip so dangerously In a last desperate effort to free itself, the sturgeon lunged toward the river’s edge and finally succeeded in tearing the harpoon out of its flesh It was too late The last of its life surged out the gaping rip in its side The huge ed down to the river botto on the surface of the river with only a twitch giving testied
The river, in its long and sinuous course, ht curve at the place where the fish chose to die, creating a whirl of conflict in the current speeding around the bend, and the last lunge of the sturgeon carried it to an eddying backwater near the shore The boat, trailing a slack rope, bobbed and rocked, bu place in the undecided trough between backwater and tide
In the lull, Jondalar had time to realize he was lucky he hadn’t cut the rope With no paddle, he couldn’t control the boat if it started downstream The shore was near: a narrow rocky beach clipped off as it rounded the bend to a steep bank, with trees crowding so close to the edge that naked roots burst through to claw at the air for support Maybe he could find so that would serve as a paddle there He took a deep breath to prepare for the plunge into the cold river, then slipped over the side
It was deeper than he expected; he went in over his head The boat, moved by the disturbance, found its way into the river current; the fish was moved closer to shore Jondalar started to swiht canoe, barely ski the surface, spun around and danced away more quickly than he could follow
The icy water was nuainst the bank He headed for it, grabbed it by its openafter hied it partway up the beach, but it was heavy He hoped it would stay Don’t need to find a paddle, now, he thought, with no boat, butwet and cold
He reached for his knife and found an eotten that he had lost it, and he didn’t have another He used to keep an extra blade in the pouch he carried at his waist, but that hen he wore Zelandonii attire He’d given up the pouch when he began wearing Ra Maybe he could find materials for a platform and fire drill to make the fire But, without a knife you can’t cut wood, Jondalar, he said to hi He shivered At least I can gather some wood
He looked around hiround was covered with da wood, leaves, and et dry “s for the dead dry lower branches of conifers that clung to the trees beneath the green growing branches But he was not in a coniferous forest like the ones near his hoion was less severe; it was not influenced as lacial ice in the north It was cool—it could be quite cold—but damp It was a temperate-climate forest, not boreal The trees were the kind the boats were made of: hardwood
Around him was a forest of oak and beech, some hornbeam and ; trees with thick brown crusty trunks and ray s, and even the tere filled with sap and budding He’d learned so down one of those hardwood trees It wasn’t easy, even with a good stone axe He shivered again His teeth were chattering He rubbed his pal to warht hesome animal
The seriousness of his situation occurred to hi for hione, or would he? Their paths crossed less and less often, particularly as he became more involved with the Ra more Shamudoi He didn’t even knohere his brother was that day, perhaps hunting chamois
Well, then, Carlono Wouldn’t he co upstreaot a chill of a different sort The boat! It got away If they find an eht Why should they co for you if they think you’ve drowned? The tall ain,
ju in place, but he couldn’t stop shivering, and he was getting tired The cold was affecting his thinking, but he couldn’t keep ju around
Out of breath, he slu to conserve body heat, but his teeth chattered and his body shook He heard shuffling again, closer, but he didn’t bother to investigate Then so moved into his vieo feet—two bare, dirty, human feet
He looked up with a start and was al in front of hie brown eyes gazing at hies A flathead! Jondalar thought A young flathead
He was agog onder, and half expected the young anister didn’t move He stood there and, after a fewthey were beckoning motions, farfetched as it see a tentative step back
What could he want? Does he want ain, Jondalar took a step after him, sure the creature would run away But the child only backed away a step and an to follow, slowly at first, then at a faster pace, still shivering, but intrigued