Chuck's Books

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Alberta by Charles O. Goulet

Chapter 1 – A New Land -- 11,013 BCE

 Atrebla squatted beside the swift-flowing river and fingered the pebbles that he arranged in a line to show the number of years that he had lived. They totaled all the fingers of his hands and the toes of one foot. Now he was a man and must find a mate. However, there was no mate in his father’s camp, only his mother, his two brothers, and one sister.
 Since early morning, his father and he followed a herd of bison that was moving toward the land of the high noon sun. Maybe they would be able to kill a straggler cow and its calf or another animal might do it for them, and they could retrieve the meat.
 Atrebla rose slowly from his squatted position and surveyed the landscape around him. It was different from what he was accustomed to: taller evergreen trees dotted the landscape, thick greener grasses covered the sward, clear bluer skies filled the heavens, and pleasant warmer air surrounded him.
He smiled to himself: Maybe that was why the bison herd was moving toward the sun; maybe the land was more lush, the air milder, the skies cloudless, and the climate more enjoyable? He picked up a pebble, studied it for a moment to see if it would be useful to make a stone tool, and then flung it as far as he could into the turgid waters of the wide river.
 Earlier that year, when the sun dissolved the winter snows, his father, Trebla, decided that the family must leave the small clan of nomads that wintered in the pine forest that lay east of the mountains in the direction of the setting sun, where rabbits and other small animals were plentiful. Even so, the winter was difficult, and food was scarce. That situation helped his father to make the decision to strike off on his own.
 Atrebla knew that his father was the greatest hunter of the group so he was certain his family would be able to survive, but it meant that Atrebla would not have a mate or be able to start his own family.
 Atrebla picked up another pebble and hurled it with all his force.
 His father, who was standing further up stream, beckoned him, and Atrebla hurried to meet him.
 “Herd not move tonight.”
 Atrebla nodded in agreement. The sun was sinking below the far-off mountain peaks to his right. They would have to retrace their steps and find the camp that his mother and siblings had set up by now.

 His mother, Ecarg, greeted them with a smile even though they returned empty-handed.  Atrebla always marveled at the way his mother could manage a comfortable camp in so short a time. She, his two brothers, and one sister built a small lean-to of pine boughs and a large bed of more twigs. A fire crackled inside a ring of rocks, and a sapling spit was roasting a rabbit that she or one of the boys captured.
 The smell of the roasting rabbit made him realize that he was very hungry; he had not eaten all day. Then he grimaced at the rabbit: It would not be a very big meal for six hungry people.
 They would go to bed hungry again, and he and his father would be responsible for that; they failed to kill a bison again! Yet neither his mother nor his brothers and sister complained as his father removed the animal from the spit and tore it apart, handing him one of the back legs and part of the haunch; the other one his father kept for himself, and then he handed the remainder of the animal to his mother who shared it with his brothers and sisters.
 Atrebla frowned. It did not seem fair that he and his father should get the best part of the animal, but he knew that was the way it was. The hunters got the most food because they had to remain strong to keep the family supplied with meat.
 “Me leave,” Atrebla grunted at his father.
 His father tore a chunk of meat from the half raw haunch, chewed vigorously for a few moments then answered, “Why you leave?”
 “Me need woman!”
 Trebla nodded. He knew his son was now a man with all of a man’s urges. However, he knew that the family needed Atrebla more than ever before. Since he had decided to leave the clan and strike out with his family, it was necessary to have his son remain. Atrebla was a fine craftsman of hunting tools; he could produce a spearhead, an arrowhead, a knife or a scraper better than anyone that Trebla knew.
 “Family need you. You stay!”
 “But I need woman. I need woman bad.”
 Trebla smile. “You wait! We find you woman!”
 Atrebla looked around the small campsite. Ecaep, his ten-year-old sister, was gnawing on the front leg of the rabbit. She was not ready to be a woman, and he would not want her if she were. “Where you find me a woman?”
 Ecarg touched his shoulder. “I find you a woman soon, a woman like me.” She grinned.
 Atrebla smiled back. Yes, he would like a woman like his mother; she was strong and capable; she was a good mother; her children where strong and healthy; she was able to care for them and his father.
 Atrebla studied her intently. His mother was as tall as he was; she had black hair that fell in jagged tresses past her shoulders. The simple bison skin gown did not hide her ample breasts and sturdy limbs. Yes, if he found a woman like his mother, he would be happy!
 “Atrebla, there are many woman. I find you a woman!” His mother nodded solemnly.
 Atrebla knew that women outnumbered men in the camps; he knew that many men were killed in the hunt, so those remaining often had more than one woman. He also knew that these men were very possessive because the number of women a man had was a sign of how powerful he was. He could never understand why his father, who was a great hunter, had only one woman, his mother, Ecarg. Moreover, he, although he was old enough, had none.

 The next day the herd was traveling again, and Atrebla and his father moved with it, slowly, but ever surely, toward the noon sun. The large herd, one that could supply many people for many months, grazed as it moved. Trebla had not signaled that they should move in on it, and he wondered why. They were short of meat; a kill would last them many days.
 The herd was roaming more quickly than it had in the past days; Atrebla was impatient to move in and single out a cow and her calf. He could taste the fresh tender meat of the young calf, and Ecarg and his siblings would dry the meat of the cow and store it for the future.
 Behind a small willow clump, he crouched beside his father and whispered, “Why don't we kill?”
 His father whispered back, “This is a good herd. Good for much food. Not scare. Take time. Stay with herd.”
 Atrebla nodded although he did not quite understand what his father meant or why. The herd was following the side of the river toward the sunset, and it stayed close to the river as it ambled looking for more pasture. Atrebla estimated that there were many more animals than he had fingers and toes. He saw several large bulls with massive horns and formidable looking heads leading the herd. He knew that neither he nor his father wanted to attack these animals. Although the bison were plant eaters, they could easily kill a man if he was gored by their horns.
 Trebla grunted and rose. Atrebla followed his father as they drifted with the herd. An open meadow of tall grass opened up before them so the herd stopped to graze. Trebla found a small grove of fir trees, in which the two men crouched to watch the herd.
 Atrebla espied a large cow with a calf at her side as it strayed from the main body of the herd and wandered slowly toward them. They were downwind, so both animals were oblivious to their scent and presence.
 In anticipation, Atrebla grasped his long spear with the stone head that he fashioned. His father gazed intently at the animals; Atrebla knew that soon they would set upon the stragglers. He was sure that they would take the calf only. His father checked the head of his spear to ascertain that it was well halfted. The loss of a spearhead at an inopportune time could be critical.
 As a precaution, Atrebla checked his own although he was sure it was firmly affixed. He prided his workmanship, and he knew his father was confident too, but prudence was preferred to carelessness. He fashioned their spears during the winter. He worked the stone carefully spending many hours fashioning the chert into the long spear head that he fastened to the long willow shaft that his father cured before the perpetual fire that his mother and siblings kept burning.
 He spent hours searching for the best piece of quartz, but he settled for an inferior fragment of dark grey chert. Carefully he chipped off preforms with a stone mallet and then chose the best to chip and rub into the stone spearheads. The small pieces he set aside for arrowheads.
 He patted his spear and murmured to it as if it was something alive. “Be strong,” he whispered.
 His father did the same. He, like his father, knew that life depended on their weapons. He checked the obsidian knife that he also fabricated. After the kill, it would be needed to butcher the animal into portions that he and his father could carry to their camp.
 The cow and her calf slowly moved closer while Atrebla and Trebla remained immobile, hardly daring to breathe. Atrebla knew the strategy; they would separate the calf from its mother, kill it, and drag it away as quickly as possible, hopefully before the cow realized what had happened.
 Atrebla estimated that the calf weighed has much as his oldest brother, too heavy for one person to carry very far, but a light load for two people if the animal was divided.
 The cow ambled ever closer, grazing nonchalantly, head down. The calf nuzzled her flank often searching for her teats and nursing intermittently. Occasionally it butted the cow that pushed it away in annoyance or ignored it.
 Suddenly the calf moved away and gave a little jump of exuberance as it frolicked about. Atrebla perceived that it was a bull calf.
 At that moment, his father slithered quickly through the thick grass, and, when within a body length from the animal, he hurled his spear with all force he could muster. The spear found its mark in the chest area just behind the front leg. The calf bawled and twisted its head toward the spear that dangled from its chest. Its eyes rolled inward and its head turned upward as it toppled, the spear pointing skyward.
 Atrebla concentrated, as his father remained motionless, watching the cow that lifted its head and eyed its offspring. The eyes widened, the nostrils flared, the mouth opened in a snort as the cow hurried toward its spawn. It bellowed as it sniffed at the spear and then the motionless young.
 Atrebla beheld the cow as it lifted its head, sniffed the air as if searching for the source of its calf’s trouble. Both he and his father remained statuesque. Then the animal seemed to sense his father’s presence, lowered its head, snorted, pawed the ground and moved toward his father, its head swaying from side to side as it moved quickly straight at his father.
 Atrebla realized that the cow spotted his father and was about to charge. He knew that the cow’s hoofs were formidable weapons and that his father was now weaponless save for his stone knife that would be useless against the infuriated and charging animal.
 His father rose and stood waiting for the charge. His father was in grave danger, and only he could help. He jumped up and shouted, “Father, seek cover! I’ll try to make cow come to me!”
 Atrebla shouted and waved his arm and spear to attract the maddened cow’s attention, but the animal could not be diverted from his father. The animal bore down on his father gathering speed as it rushed toward him. The animal flung its head back and rose up on its hind legs flailing at Trebla with its front legs.
 Atrebla ran toward the two adversaries. He had to divert the animal from his father. If he could, perhaps they could escape the enraged cow. He moved in and swung his spear at the cow’s head. Suddenly the cow realized that it had an opponent from another quarter. It flailed at Atrebla who danced to one side.
 His father ran to retrieve his weapon from the calf as Atrebla circled around the cow making the animal swing in a tight circle. He jabbed at the cow’s head and eyes. The animal rose on its hind legs towering above Atrebla who bobbed first one way and then another.
 His father, who had retrieved his spear, assaulted the frenzied animal and thrust the weapon deep into the chest of the attacking cow. With a fatal bawl the animal twisted in a tight circle trying to remove the weapon that dangled from its side. Trebla’s thrust was accurate and had found its mark, the heart. The cow bawled loudly and toppled.

 Atrebla and his father quartered the cow and calf and spent the better part of the midday hours carrying the meat to the new camp that Ecarg and the rest of the family set up in a sunlit spot on the bank of the swift flowing river.
 As Atrebla, his father, and his two brothers hauled the chunks of meat into camp, Ecarg and Ecaep, cut it into narrow strips and laid it on the large rocks that lined the beach of the river. The bright sun dried the meat rather quickly, although it would take several days before the meat was cured enough to keep it from rotting.
 By midafternoon, all the meat was in camp, and the family enjoyed a feast of the tenderest parts. Atrebla liked the nose best, roasted to a crisp over the small fire that burned in a ring of stones.
 He grunted as he placed the last morsel in his mouth and chew vigorously enjoying the sweet savor of the gelatinous portion. It had been a good day! The sun remained high in the sky while a warm breeze came from the direction of the noon sun. He and his father stripped off their mastodon skin tunics as they returned to work naked, enjoying the freedom and radiance of the sun.
 A trumpeting sound off to his right startled him. Then he recognized it as the bellow of a bull mammoth. Another and another followed it. Atrebla jumped to his feet as his younger brother, Ykcor, came running from the river where he was washing himself, shouting, “Mammoths! mammoths!…many…coming…fast!”
 Atrebla’s heart beat faster as his muscles tensed. A stampeding herd of mammoths could be dangerous. The trumpeting and thundering of many animals, mobile and frightened, was a formidable force. He had seen the results of such a flight on one other occasion and it left a swath of destruction in its wake. The ponderous, huge animals trampled everything in their path.
 “Quick! Run!” his father shouted as he hurried his family before him. Like Atrebla, he knew that there was little defense against the charging, frightened animals.
 Atrebla grabbed his spear as the first animals entered the campsite. Two large bulls, their heads flung high, their gigantic ivory tusks waving like huge tree trunks sweeping everything before them, led the milling animals. Atrebla realize that he was cut off from his family who rushed inland.
 Atrebla stood frozen for a moment staring at the mass that bore down on him. It was a large herd of bulls, cows, and calves rushing pell-mell following the lead bulls that roared, trumpeted, and screeched in fright. The lead animal came directly at him.
 His only escape was toward the river. As the herd bore down on him, he took flight. His legs moved as fast as they could, and his breath came in short gasp as he rushed for the water. Although some of the herd rushed along the beach and one or two animals were in the water, Atrebla knew that he had to reach the safety of the river.
 As the animals rushed down on him, he increased his speed but as he almost reached the river, he tripped, stumbled, and sprawled at the water’s edge. He twisted to his right and rolled away just as a large foot descended toward him. The great pad looked as if it was about to crush him as he hurled himself to one side.
 The mass of legs, as large as huge boulder, kept coming at him, and he twisted and rolled and crawled frantically toward the water. The animals seemed to go on forever as he finally hurled himself into the water and pulled himself into the deeper part of the river.
 The water swirled about him and the current tugged at him as the stampeding animals roiled the flow. Moments passed, which seemed like an eternity, and the herd still tramped through the small camp, snort, trumpeting, and roaring as it rushed headlong smashing everything in it path. Atrebla stood chest deep in the river watching the rioting herd, his heart beating to the rhythm of the pounding feet. The noise was deafening. A large cow plummeted toward him, its trunk flung back, its eyes rolling, unseeing, wild with fear.
 He scanned the stream searching for a haven from the mad, ferocious animal that bore down on him. The water held him back as he tried to move away from the stampeding mammoth. He hurled himself to one side as the huge animal passed beside him. He felt something strike his legs that sent him spinning into the deeper water.
 His mouth filled with water as he rolled away from the rushing animal. Now he was in a contest with the swift current of the roiling river. He thrashed as he struggled to reach the surface; he tried to spit the muddy water from his mouth. His head popped out of the water, and he gasped for air. The strong current now carried him into the deeper part of the river. Although he was able to stay afloat in water, he was not a strong swimmer like the animals that he and his father hunted. As his breath came back to him, he assessed his situation: he was afloat and moving quickly with the current further and further away from the shore. He dog-paddled to keep afloat and to search for an escape from the swift flowing river.
 He spotted a large tree trunk floating behind him. If he could reach it, it would buoy him and act as a raft. He paddled toward it as it floated toward him. As his strength waned, he managed to grab a branch and pull himself toward the trunk. The tree rolled and twisted with the current as he struggled to maintain contact.
 Ahead he could hear the roar of rapids. He hoped that they would be shallow and that he might be able to wade ashore. Luck was with him because the log snagged on some rocks. The shore was now within reach. He lowered his legs searching for the bottom. His feet hit rough gravel and rocks; slowly he pushed away from the log and almost fell as the strong current tugged at his body. He leaned toward the shore and systematically he made his way toward it.
 He sprawled on a shingle beach; the sharp pebbles and stones scraped his skin and he realized he was naked. He and his father removed their clothes as the worked at butchering the cow and calf bison. The sun was sinking beyond the horizon and the air chilled. He shivered as the water evaporated on his body. He could not remain on the beach or he might die of exposure because the air chilled as the sun disappeared. He jumped to his feet and move quickly upstream back toward the camp.

 Dusk descended by the time he reached the camp, or what was left of it. Even in the murkiness of the descending night, he could see that the camp was completely destroyed, trampled into a mass of sticks and fragments of skins.
 The site was quiet, too quiet. Even the sound of the night birds and animals was missing.
 He called, “Trebla! Ecarg! Where you?” His voice echoed back to him from the hills in the direction of the setting sun.
 The fire was extinguished and scattered by the marauding herd, but Atrebla notice a tiny glow from one piece of wood. He needed a fire for warmth and light, and it would act as a beacon for his family, wherever they were.
 He called again. “Trebla! Ecarg! Ecaep! Where are you?” Only the stillness of the night answered him.
 Quickly he set to work rebuilding the fire. The smoldering log was almost out. Only a small glow from a small ember and a tiny wisp of smoke were all that was left of the fire that his mother built.
 In the darkness, he searched for dry grass and twigs to add to the glowing coal. Slowly he coaxed the grass into a flame, and he added twigs and more tinder. The flames grew and soon he had a tiny fire that he nurtured with more twigs and mashed wood that was trampled by the mammoth herd.
 As he worked to build the fire, he surveyed the devastation. The area was a mass of mashed wood and shredded skins. Even the strips of bison were gone, pulverized into the churned ground. Fragments of wood, bone, and skins lay helter-skelter throughout the camp area. Everything was destroyed.
 As the fire grew, and he added more wood to it, he could see more and more the destruction that the stampeding herd did to the camp. A chill ran through his body; he realized he was still naked. Then he remembered that his father and he hung their hide jackets and pants on a nearby bush.
 He grabbed a burning stick from the fire for a torch and hurried to where they hung their clothes. To his surprise, both his father’s garments and his hung limply and untouched. Quickly he dressed and then returned to the fire. He was more comfortable as he worked to keep the blaze going.
 Intermittently he called for his family, but no one answered his shouts.
 He crouched before the fire and stared at the dancing flames as he reviewed the events of the past few hours. What happened to his family? Why did they not answer his shouts? Where had they taken refuge?
 The night seemed to go on forever, but he dared not sleep. He must keep the fire going as a beacon. Several times, he caught himself dozing as fatigue overcame him. However, he managed to keep the fire going until the sky brightened in the east.
 As dawn arrived, he surveyed their camp. It was no more. The tent was shredded into tiny pieces; the equipment, the cooking utensils, the tools, and the weapons were smashed beyond recognition. The only thing left was his father’s garments that still hung on the dogwood bush where he hung them.
 Now, he must find his family!
 He remembered them fleeing before the stampeding herd. He remembered that he fled toward the river while they fled inland. Had they escaped, or had they been caught up in the stampede?
 He heaped anything flammable onto the fire as he decided to look for his family!
 Where would he begin? He remembered that his father gathered his mother and his brothers and sister and hurried them away from the river. Atrebla studied the breadth of the pulverized path of destruction. It was a large herd because the desolation extended many spear lengths back from the river. Everything in the herd’s path was destroyed: trees and shrubs, grasses and flowers were flattened. Only larger trees remained and often the bark was stripped from them as the rushing animals scraped against them.
 The path was so wide that Atrebla wondered if his family was able to evade the roaring tumult.
 He picked up a stick to use as a weapon and aid as he followed the path of destruction. Periodically he would stop, call, and listen, but only the sounds of the returning wild life answered him.
 Once he thought he heard a voice, a returning call. He listened intently and shouted back, but only silence answered him.
 He stayed close to the rolling river, searching intently for any sign of humans. After what he thought was as far as his family could have traveled he turned inland and walked slowly across the width of damaged landscape. Walking was difficult due to the scrabble of broken bush, trees, rocks, and deadfall. His family were somewhere if they escaped.
 Deliberately, he made his way back in the direction of the destroyed camp. He must keep the fire going until he could find flint for the sparks necessary to start a new fire.
 Then he spotted it! A piece of mammoth hide peeked from behind a massive boulder. He recognized it as one of the pieces of hide that his mother processed to make a gown for his sister.
 He hurried toward calling as he moved, “Ecarg! Ecarg! Is it you?” Nothing.
 To his surprise, it was the complete gown, discarded and intact. Only a small stain of blood showed along the hem. Carefully, he picked it up and shook it. Why was it here…as if it had been discarded?
 He laid it on the boulder and looked around, searching! His sister could not be far away. Where was she? What happened to her?
 He swung around in a complete circle, his eyes roving, seeking, and searching for any other sign of his sister. He called again! No answer. If her gown was intact, maybe she also survived.
 He studied the ground around the boulder for sign that she was there and left, but the area was so torn up and trampled that if she was there it was before the herd passed through.
 Slowly he walked around the boulder in a widening circle studying the mashed ground for any sign of her or the rest of the family.
 Then he spotted it! An arm with fingers outspread in an imploring manner. He knew that his sister was dead. He moved mechanically toward it and stared at her body. It was torn open from crutch to sternum with entrails hanging in festooned fashion. Now he understood why her gown wasripped from her body, probably by the trunk of an enraged mammoth. Otherwise, her body was intact. Carefully he pushed her entrails into the cavity and closed it as best he could.
 He tried not to think of her death as he dug a shallow grave with a pointed stick that he found. He would bury her as deep as he could and then cover the grave with stones and boulders, to mark the spot and to keep wild animals from digging her up and devouring her.
 Death was quick and probably painless, and at least she had not been trampled to death. As he worked, he speculated about what happened to the rest of the family. Had they survived or were they trampled or gored to death also?
 His task finished, he returned to the search. He widened his quest in a circle from his sister’s point of demise.
 Within moments, he found them! Obviously, they huddled in hope that the herd would miss them, but it had not. His father’s smashed body lay over his mother’s as if trying to protect her. Although he had protected her body, her head was mashed beyond recognition as a large footprint indicated that a large animal stepped directly on her skull destroying it beyond recognition. The bodies of his brothers, Ykcor, and Keerc, lay nearby, mashed beyond recognition as human beings.
 Atrebla stared almost unseeing at the destruction of his family. His eyes glistened, his limbs trembled, and his hand clenched into tight fists. They were all gone! He was alone!
 In that moment, he realized how much they had meant to him. His father Trebla was his mentor and his hero; his mother, Ecarg, nurtured him and made him the strong person he was; his sister, Ecaep, filled him with laughter and happiness; his brothers, Ykcor and Keerc, were his playmates and he their mentor and hero. Now they were gone, destroyed by a rampaging herd of mammoths! He would find that herd and destroy it as it had destroyed his life!
 He clenched his fist and waved it toward the sky. “I will destroy the mammoth, just as it destroyed my family!” he shouted repeatedly. His anger exploded from him; he yelled and scream until he felt spent and exhausted.
 The sun disappeared behind the horizon by the time he buried his family and marked the spot with a cairn of stones, a large cairn that he would be able to locate later.

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