From: erik_read@qms1.life.uiuc.edu (Erik Read)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [Jarl] The Hunt
Date: 16 Dec 1993 04:27:02 GMT
Message-ID: <erik_read-151293222203@gardner2.life.uiuc.edu>

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Jera   Teiwaz    Gebo <<<<<<<<<<<<read in this direction

Jarl twirled the feather absently between his fingers as he mused about the
events of the previous day. He had walked as one of Nature's Folk before,
but it always took more effort, more preparation. In the past, he had used
the Joicks and the drum, mostly the drum, to get himself ready, but that no
longer seemed necessary. Had his mother known this? Were all the ceremonies
a show for the clan? Was he supposed to learn this on his own? Did this
mean he was the cause and not some external force? He hoped this was so, it
meant that maybe it could be controlled. Putting down the feather Jarl told
himself 'Elk won't be felled by thinking' and went about his preparations.

He was going to need things for the hunt, but mostly he would need wood to
prepare the meat. The wood he collected took a couple of days to amass and
consisted mostly of deadwood and judiciously pruned branches. The work was
dull and sweaty, but it gave him a chance to look for cooking herbs and a
yew sapling from which to make a bow and arrows. He found both, as well as
signs that the Elk were dwelling in the southwestern portion of the valley.
He took another day to whittle a bow and four arrows, the bowstring and
arrowheads for which he produced from his bag of Runes. He was ready for
the Hunt.

Careful scrutiny of the trees revealed scrape marks and little tassles of
velvet; these signs told Jarl that the bucks were shadowboxing and getting
ready for the Rutt. It was the perfect time for a Hunt, the intense
competition of the Rutt would make clear which of the bucks would not make
it through the winter. Jarl also knew that even though the choice would be
easy, the act could be dangerous. Weak and wounded bucks were still
formidable quarry, during the Rutt they were ready to fight, and he had
seen hunters charged. Once it charged, taking a buck was a messy business
with less reward, because the hide was often marred beyond use.

Moving to the southwest, Jarl followed fresh tracks and scrapes. His first
encounter with the Elk was fast and fleeting, he was concentrating on the
tracks and on being quiet, when he looked up, he stood in front of three
does. They grazed on low growth, not even acknowledging his presence. The
early morning fog began to rapidly recede, and Jarl decided to search for
the bucks that couldn't be far away, as he started to move the does bolted,
and were soon prancing into the woods. Why had they waited so long to run ?
More curiously how is it that they didn't smell him as he approached?

Just as he predicted, the bucks were not far away, and they were easy to
find, for they were embroiled in the Rutt, at least these two were. They
were locked crown to crown and pushing back and forth, covering a lot of
ground. The older buck was stronger with a full rack, but it was tiring
more quickly than the tenacious youth it was duelling. A few minutes of
observation was enough to show that the old buck would lose, even so the
duel finished quite some time later. The old buck, hobbled and panting, was
driven off. Jarl followed his quarry for a while, it had spent a lot of
energy and one of it's eyes was gouged. The buck seemed to know this was
it's last season, Jarl was saddened by the sight of this once noble Elk.
Jarl also knew if he didn't bring it down winter would. With this thought
he let the arrow fly at the buck as it drank from the stream. As he wiped a
tear from his eye, the buck collapsed into the stream, the arrow through
it's throat snapping with the impact. It gave two last kicks and was still.
 Jarl looked around to get his bearrings, and started to drag his kill
toward the camp......

Two hours later the carcass lay stretched across a large rock so the blood
could drain out. This done Jarl hurried off to bring down another buck, he
would need two for the clothing he was going to make himself. Leaving the
camp Jarl realized that an unguarded carcass was an open invitation, but he
had no choice, he would just have to be quick about getting another.

He was not as lucky as before, it took several hours to locate the bucks
and when he did it was not clear which was the weakest. Impatient as he was
Jarl decide to risk taking a healthy buck. He began stalking what he
thought was the most likely canidate, a rather sickly young buck with a
small rack. It was obviously not participating in the competition but
intent upon grazing. Jarl found it easy to sneak up on the youngster in the
fog that always seemed to just appear, and approached to within 10 feet
without being noticed. The arrow he let fly appeared to pass right through
the unaware buck, which didn't even look up from it's grazing. Jarl
focussed as he cocked another arrow, he would not miss again. As he aimed
the buck snapped up it's head and then charged. The arrow grazed the
haunches as the lowered antlers swept Jarl's feet out from under him. Jarl
hit the ground with a 'whoof' as his breath quickly escaped him. A second
swipe with the antlers and Jarl was being plowed across the forest floor,
towards a particularly spiney spruce. In a panic, Jarl drew a blade with
his free arm, and made a vicious slash at one of the bucks legs. The joint
shattered, and the buck stumbled, Jarl took the opportunity for another
slash to the side of the neck. The beast reared at the pain, and Jarl
quickly crawled behind a tree. A few seconds later and Jarl had regained
his breath, he peeked around the tree to see the wounded buck limping away.
Groaning because he did not have the luxury of waiting for it to die, Jarl
charged it from behind. At the last moment the buck turned its rack toward
Jarl, sticking a bay antler into his thigh and wrenching. In pain Jarl sent
his blade through the back of the neck. Both he and the Elk collapsed, but
only Jarl continued to move. Slowly Jarl, battered and now bloody, got to
his feet and began to drag the second carcass back to the camp. It was
going to be a long day...........


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 )Hey you, Antero Vipunen, rise from sleeping, from dreaming too much ! )
( There's not a man in the departed...my mound of flesh already rotted!(
 )Erik_Read@qms1.life.uiuc.edu                            -The Kalevala )
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