The Plains of Passage (Earth's Children 4)

"Something strange is going on," Ebulan said, switching to Mamutoi so Jondalar could understand. "I think the women were ordered not to speak to us."

"That doesn't make sense," Olamun said. "If we did know something, what could we do about it?"

"You're right, Olamun. It doesn't make sense, but I agree with Ebulan. I think the women were told not to speak," S'Amodun said.

"Maybe this is the time, then," Jondalar said. "If Epadoa's women are busy talking, maybe they won't notice."

"Notice what?" Olamun said.

"Ardemun managed to pick up a piece of flint..."

"So that's what it was all about," Ebulan said. "I couldn't see anything that would make him trip and fall."

"But what good is a piece of flint?" Olamun said. "You have to have tools to make it into anything. I used to watch the flint knapper, before he died."

"Yes, but he also picked up a hammerstone, and there is some bone around here. It's enough to make a few blades and shape them into knives and points, and a few other tools—if it's a good piece of flint."

"You're a flint knapper?" Olamun said.

"Yes, but I'm going to need some help. Some noise to cover up the sound of stones hitting stones," Jondalar said.

"But even if he can make some knives, what good will they be? The women have spears," Olamun said.

"For one thing, they're good for cutting the rope off someone whose hands are tied," Ebulan said. "I'm sure we can think of a competition or game that will cover up the noise. The light is almost gone, though."

"There should be enough. It won't take me long to make the tools and the points. Then tomorrow I can work inside the lean-to, where they can't see. I'll need that legbone and those logs, and maybe a piece of a plank from the lean-to. It would help if I had some sinew, but thin strips of leather should work. And, Ardemun, if you find any feathers while you are out of the Holding, I could use them."

Ardemun nodded, then said, "You're going to make something that will fly? Like a throwing spear?"

"Yes, something that will fly. It will take careful whittling and shaping, and that will take some time. But I think I can make a weapon that might surprise you," Jondalar said.

28

The next morning, before Jondalar began further work on the flint tools, he talked to S'Amodun about the two injured youngsters. He had thought about it the night before, and, recalling how Darvo had taken to flint knapping even as a young boy, he felt that if they could be taught a craft, like flint knapping, they could lead independent and useful lives even though they were crippled.

"With Attaroa as headwoman, do you really think they will ever have the opportunity?" S'Amodun asked.

"She allows Ardemun more freedom; she might feel that the two boys will not be a threat, either, and let them out of the Holding more often. Even Attaroa might be persuaded to see the logic of having a couple of toolmakers around. Her hunters' weapons are poorly made," Jondalar said. "And who knows? She may not be a leader much longer."

S'Amodun eyed the blond stranger speculatively. "I wonder if you know something I don't," he said. "In any case, I will encourage them to come and watch you."

Jondalar had worked outside the evening before, so the sharp chips that broke off in the process of knapping the flint would not be scattered around their only shelter. He had picked a spot somewhat behind the stone pile near the place where they passed their wastes. Because of the smell, it was the end of the enclosure that the guards tended to avoid, and was watched the least.

The blade-shaped pieces he had quickly detached from the flint core were at least four times as long as they were wide with rounded ends, and these were the blanks from which other tools would be made. The edges were razor sharp as they were cleaved from the flint core, sharp enough to cut through tough leather as if it were congealed fat. The blades were so sharp, in fact, that often the edges had to be dulled so the tool could be handled without cutting the user.

/> Inside the lean-to the following morning, the first thing Jondalar did was to select a place under a crack in the roof, so he would have sufficient light to work by. Then he cut off a piece of leather from his makeshift cloak and spread it out on the ground to catch the inevitable sharp bits of flint debris. With the two lame boys and several others seated around him, he proceeded to demonstrate how a hard oval stone and a few pieces of bone could be used to make tools of flint, which in turn could be used to shape and make things out of leather, wood, and bone. Though they had to be careful not to draw attention to their activity, getting up occasionally to maintain a normal routine, then coming back and huddling together for warmth, which also served to block the view of their guards, they all watched with fascination.

Jondalar picked up a blade and examined it critically. There were several different tools he wanted to make, and he was trying to decide which of them would lend itself best to this particular blank. One long, sharp edge was nearly straight, the other wavered somewhat. He started by dulling the uneven edge by scraping the hammerstone across it a few times. He left the other edge as it was. Then, with the long tapered end of a broken legbone, he pressure-flaked the rounded end, breaking off carefully controlled small chips until it was a point. If he'd had sinew, or glue, or pitch, or a number of other materials with which to attach it, he could have added a handle, but when he was through, it was an adequate knife as it was.

As the tool was passed around and tested on the hair of an arm or bits of leather, Jondalar picked up another blade blank. Both edges of it dipped in to a narrow waist near the middle. Applying careful pressure with the knobby, rounded end of the legbone, he broke off only the sharpest edge of both lengths, which dulled them only slightly but, more important, strengthened them, so this piece could be used as a scraper to shape and smooth a piece of wood or bone. He showed how it was used and passed it around, too.

With the next blank, he dulled both edges so the tool could be handled easily. Then, with two carefully placed blows at one end of it, he detached a couple of spalls, leaving a sharp, chisellike point. To demonstrate its use, he cut a groove into a piece of bone, then went over the groove many times, making it deeper and deeper and creating a little pile of curled shavings. He explained how a shaft, or a point, or a handle, could be cut out with roughly the desired shape, then finished by scraping or smoothing.

Jondalar's demonstration was almost a revelation. None of the boys or younger men had ever seen an expert flint-knapping toolmaker work, and few of the older men had ever seen one so skilled. In the few moments of twilight the night before, he had managed to cleave off nearly thirty usable blanks from the single nodule of flint before the flint core was too small to work. By the next day, most of the men had used one or more of the tools he made from them.

Then he tried to explain the hunting weapon he wanted to show them. Some of the men seemed to understand him immediately although they invariably questioned the accuracy and speed he claimed for a spear thrown with a spear-thrower. Others couldn't seem to grasp the concept of it at all, but it didn't matter.

Having good serviceable tools in their hands, and working on something constructive with them, gave the men a sense of purpose. And doing anything that opposed Attaroa, and the conditions she had forced upon them, lifted the despair of the Men's Camp and fostered the hope that it might be possible, someday, to regain control of their own destiny.