◆◆◆
Things Get Tight
It was only a couple of weeks into the Gathering when food started to get scarce. Dag suggested openly that they should have a hunt with all of the tribes. Several of the clan chiefs became irate at the suggestion. A particularly old and grizzled man stood up angrily, “Why should your people hunt? Your clan does not go hungry! You’ve hunted more than you can eat, and will only share it with the rest of us if we give up our possessions to you, or work for you!”
Dag blinked in surprise, not so much that one idiot could see it that way, but that there were a number of grunts of approval from other chiefs. Dag shrugged, “We hunt better than you. No one forces you to trade with us. If you want us to stay out of the hunt, we will do just that. You’ll still end up with less food, but you won’t have to worry about us taking any.”
A powerful man from one of the more successful clans stood up, “We still wish to trade with you.”
The older man brayed at him, “Oh, of course you do. You’re another tribe that hunts more than anyone else. Just because you have the most hunters, why should you get more of the game?”
That started another round of belly aching and complaining. Dag simply walked away from the group of gathered chiefs. He was almost all the way back to the stockade when the younger man caught up with him. “Don’t let Rog bother you.” he said with a sigh. “He is just having a bad year, and seeing your tribe eating well while his own starves and looks at him with accusation in their eyes worries him.”
Dag let out a long sigh, “He’s hunting the old way, and sometimes that works, and sometimes it doesn’t. His people are starving because he isn’t letting them trade with us for what they need.” He shook his head in disgust, “Thank you for what you said back there.”
The young man grinned, “I’m next in line to be chief when my father is gathered to our ancestors. I don’t want you to hold against me and mine what the older chiefs say. I like salt.” he let out a low chuckle. “And I like smoked fish, so I want to make sure I can get some, even if it is only once a year.”
Dag almost slapped his forehead. The idea hit him like lightning out of a clear blue sky. “You know, it doesn’t have to be only once a year?” When the man looked at him confused, “We stay in one camp all year long. You could easily come at other times of the year. When ever you have a surplus of something, and trade it for more salt, smoked fish, or maybe even a new bit of pottery for your wife.”
The man blinked, “You have a place to go to trade?”
Dag nodded a big smile on his face, “I will be leaving some people here with things to trade, or you can come to the castle to trade.”
The young man’s face broke into a giant smile. “I am Hendden. Had I not been next in line for chief, I would have chased off after you last year.”
Dag put his hand out, and the man rather curiously took it. “Dag, and you don’t need to leave your clan to help things along. Seriously, you can do my clan more good traveling as your tradition demands, but bringing back a little of what you find to trade with us.”
Hendden nodded, “I would not leave my people leaderless, but I see your way as the better way.”
Dag felt a sly smile creep across his face, “When the others go on the big hunt, the one they don’t want my clan along for, hang back with one other from your tribe. I’ll have something new to show you, and if things work out like I think that they will, you’ll gave more meat to share with your tribe than your hunters will bring back.”
Hendden looked at him sideways, but the grin that spread across his face let Dag know that he would do as he asked. Dag said goodbye to the young man, then headed in to find Ajax and Jack. It was time to plan how he was going to make good on his boast to Hendden.
◆◆◆
Boats Display Their Worth
Hendden waited until the others had all left for their hunt before he and his younger brother showed up at the stockade. Dag met him at the gate with most of his clan, leaving only Ajax behind to guard Oona and their gear. Hendden’s face wrinkled in confusion as he saw everyone. Dag just grinned, “Wait and see.”
Dag assigned men to carry down one of the canoes. The sight of it only confused Hendden more, but he said nothing. They made it to the still swollen river only an hour after sunrise. Dag went about issuing orders and placed Hendden and his little brother on a spot on the bank that jutted out slightly into the river. He took Jack and three other men down stream a hundred feet or so, and explained how he wanted them to paddle in a half circle around Hendden and his brother, sweeping the net through the water. Then land just up stream where Dag would be waiting to help haul the net ashore.
“We just sweep the fish out of the river?” Jack asked with a smirk.
Dag nodded, “Just like we did with the two boats, only with about half the manpower at risk on the water. You don’t have to pull the heavy fish into a rocking boat, only hand off the net to me, and we’ll get the net empty. Have it readied for you to do it all over again.” Dag scratched at his beard, “If we do this right, we should be able to make six or seven full passes before we break for lunch.”
“After lunch?” Jack asked.
Dag shrugged, “Mostly depends on how many fish we’re netting by then. If the fish have gotten smart and moved to another part of the river, then we spend the time cleaning and salting them, but if not, we’ll we send Hendden back to his clan to hire in a cleaning crew while we stay at work.”
Jack grinned, “You know they’re all going to freak when they see the boat?”
Dag grinned back, “More so when they see what the net can do.”
It took nearly a half an hour to get everyone in place, but the first pass landed an impressive catch. More than a few snags as well, but more fish than any clan would eat in a day. Hendden’s eyes were wide in surprise, but the smile on his face told Dag he would enjoy tossing the fruits of his labors before his father.
Each successive pass netted them fewer and fewer fish, but each was still an impressive haul. When Dag called a halt for lunch, Hendden didn’t want to quit. “There is still more fish!”
Dag gave him a full belly laugh, “We don’t want them all! Besides, we’ve spooked the fish in this section of the river. Let’s eat, and we’ll move down the bank a way, and try it again. After lunch.” He added the last when Hendden made to start moving off down river right away.
The small crew that they had cleaning fish wasn’t going to be enough to get the job done. Either Dag needed to send Hendden off to get more people to process the fish, or he needed to stop catching and start cleaning. The eagerness in Hendden’s eyes long before lunch was over, told him what his choice was going to be.
He sent the young man off with his proposal and grinned as he watched him go. Hendden had stuck his neck out on Dag’s reputation for magical results, and now was excited to see the payoff for his faith. Dag couldn’t blame him. Every boy wanted to show up the old man once in a while. When he showed back up with nearly every able bodied woman and child old enough to gut a fish, Dag let out a low whistle. Then sent back four men for the second canoe.
With them pulling from deeper waters in the afternoon, the piles of fish only grew. It wasn’t until almost evening that they had a large log catch in the net and rip it from the hands of one of the boat crews. The other crew was able to salvage the net, but it was damaged beyond anything they could repair that evening. So Dag set the men to gathering long poles, while he went for as many hides as they could gather. Tee-pee style camp smokers were the only option for getting this haul preserved enough to even last a few days.
Culture Clash
Hunters Return
The hunters return high on their success. They had gotten three orex, and more than fifteen hundred pounds of meat. Unfortunately, one of the hunters was also carried back, having been badly gored in the process.
Their reaction to finding the camp filled with stories of fish wasn’t a good one. Dag had agreed to split the full catch with Hendden’s tribe on the condition that they didn’t give any of it away to the other tribes for free. If they wanted to trade it to them, that was perfectly fine and reasonable, but they could not give it away to people who would only hate them again the next time their bellies were empty. Hendden had winced at the conditions, but agreed. Dag had waited until the first net full of fish had been landed to whet his greed before laying the condition. Hendden presented his catch to his father, who looked as if he had bitten into something bitter. When he told his father of the conditions of the deal, the old man flew into a rage.
The hunters were livid that Dag had more or less stolen their thunder. If he was honest, Dag would much prefer a juicy orex steak to fish, but given that red meat was a staple of the nomads diet, whereas fish was a bit of luxury, the rest of the clans didn’t share his view. That put very favorable trade conditions on the fish, even with the relative abundance.
The main problem began when three of the clans banded together to seize one of Dag’s boats. Assuming the boat was responsible for their success, the clan chiefs believed that by stealing it, they could diminish Dag’s power. Between the three clans, they had just over twenty men. The other clans wouldn’t join in with them, but neither would they make any effort to stop them. Even Hendden’s clan, once his father was back, made no effort to get involved. Though Hendden himself ran ahead of the approaching mob to warn Dag.
Dag knew it was only a matter of time before something like this would happen, so he posted the boys on the walls with their bows, and marched out the men with their shields and clubs. Taking up positions around the boats themselves, the men simply waited for the enemy to come to them.
