Read A Survivalists Tale Online

Authors: James Rafferty

Tags: #Contemporary Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Contemporary, #Action & Adventure, #Literature & Fiction

A Survivalists Tale (4 page)

The two who would be coming with me would be the ones with the best eyesight, I had moved or placed six items about a hundred yards out, and the first two to spot them all would be coming with me. To make it fair they did the same to me, but I had learned early in my youth to take note of what was around, this way a predator had less chance of sneaking up on you. More importantly, fewer meals missed, it ended up being Clair and Joe, who aced it by spotting them easily.

We set off in the morning to give us the best chance of covering as much ground as we could, we had only gone about four miles when we started to see signs of wild pigs, they seemed to be everywhere, there were at least three family groups and two seemed to have very young babies. I thought at least we won’t have to worry about trapping pigs to  far from camp, all the time we were grazing as we went, picking fruit, leaves, flowers and roots. We carried a fair bit of jerky with us, just so we wouldn’t have to hunt to soon, we must have made eight miles that first day and found ourselves starting up the mountain. It wasn’t the biggest mountain in the world but it was big enough, we camped that night and had a reasonable nights rest. I have heard people say there is nothing as good as your own bed to sleep in, this I was finding to be true, even of the bed I had made back at camp. Fortunately, we had enough hides to make a type of sleeping bag, so we wouldn’t freeze at night, it just felt that way.

We awoke the next day a bit stiff from the ground we had slept on, but we had been mentally prepared for it so no complaints, so far, we had decided to use bladders sown into leather bags, to hold our personal water. This way the slight leakage actually helped to keep the water cool, and yes, it does make the water taste strange. As we headed up the south slope of the mountain, as that had the best place for foliage to grow, therefore more chance of sheep. We all understood we would not get a lot of fleece from the sheep they are more like deer than anything else, but I knew from experience that it made a great felt material. I didn’t think I would get lucky like the last time, and find them in a cave, so this would be down to trapping them.

 

First, we had to study them, no easy task in its self, however we had found them, I had only just noticed some rocks moving in a small valley about a mile away, we were in luck there must be a herd of around twenty. They must be females, as they appeared to have smaller ones with them; mind you, they were not that small. Joe touched my arm to point out about half way up the slope, standing real proud was a cracker of a ram, it was like he was watching us, as he kept lifting his head and looking at our hiding place. Clair was beside a bush and took a look down our slope, she must have heard something. She went very still and I saw just her hand move, she pointed at Joe then showed two fingers, Joe looked and slowly moved back. They were making lassoes, I wondered what they were up to, but had to trust them, I couldn't see Clair’s face but Joe was grinning. I had no idea what they were up to , Clair was to my left and nearer the edge, Joe was the same but to my right, they threw the lassoes and vanished, it was so bizarre. One second they were there next all I saw was legs vanish over the edge, like something massive had grabbed them, I quickly looked and what I saw, well I couldn't believe my eyes, I saw Joe and Clair being dragged down and to the left by sheep they had managed to catch. They were trying to bring them to a halt, but any shepherd would tell you, big sheep that live on the hills are bloody strong, a lot stronger than people realise. They two were just finding out, I was off after them, cutting across the higher ground to get a head of them, when Clair managed to bring hers to a halt. She crashed into a rock and was thrown the opposite way to being dragged, so I threw myself at Joe as he passed me and we managed between us to halt Joe’s one. I saw Clair had hers under some control, so I grabbed Joe’s sheep through him on his side and tied his legs, I then ran back and did the same for Clair’s, they had got a couple of rams. Clair explained afterwards that she had wondered at the big fellow across from us watching us when she barely had her eyes above the edge. So she thought what if he is watching a predator, she thought she better check, when she did look, she saw the two with their heads no more than five six feet away, looking at the ram across the valley. We didn’t even throw our loops just more like dropped them over their heads, then she smiled and said then we found out just how bloody strong they were, I didn’t even have a chance to scream she said. One of the rams was much older than the other; I reckoned the younger one was probably last year’s lamb, I couldn't understand why it was away from the flock, it would have been welcomed still.

However, flocks lose our gain, we got down into the bottom of the valley where the flock had been and set up camp, when Clair and Joe asked wont this cause the sheep to not come back. I explained there was no chance we would see that flock again, anywhere near here since the fright they had, so we may as well use this as our camp to explore from. In addition, as I had watched the sheep in the flock go into some rocks one and two at a time I was betting there would be water in there. When we checked there was a nice little spring so we camped quite close, we had to carry the rams down on our shoulders; it was bloody hard work, with constant rests. I showed the guys how we would cook the big ram, we would use a pit oven, but first we would collect the wool and fat for lights.

The one thing I did warn them about was bears; even the black bear is not to be taken lightly, as the smell of food will carry for miles.

It took the rest of the day to sheer the sheep, thank god for flint, it is razor sharp, even then, it wasn’t the best sheering job ever done, but we did however get a lot more fleece than I thought. We also built a small secure enclosure for them as well; we also hobbled them front and back, so if they did get loose we could catch them again. Early next morning, I had Joe build the fire pit while Clair collected the wood for the fire, I killed the larger of the two rams, I then helped collect the stones, for the oven and had stored as much fat as I could, in the bags made from the bowels of the deer. Everything was done downwind of our young ram, once the ram was on for cooking I then sent Joe and Clair in different directions to see if they could find more flocks. I couldn't go for they would smell me now a mile away, so I stayed at camp and got on with fixing better shelters for us, as the storms in the mountains could be terrible. I also picked a load of grass for the ram, and talked to it for quite some time, he wasn’t happy at first but after a while he realised nothing drastic was happening and stuck his head down to eat and drink. I never went too close, for the smell of blood that would be on me even though I had washed. I also worked on my long bow I was making, the best tool for killing at a distance if you got it right, a total flop if you got it wrong, the snap of no confidence. I had studied under bowyers for a year before I felt confident and had made quite a few bows in my time, using some strange wood at times, but you had to go with what was available. I had helped the team build their bows first and

showed them how to make arrows and flint heads for the arrows. One of the jobs they would be doing back at main camp was making arrows, for we would before winter have to hunt bear. We all now carried two spears and a bow and arrows with us, except me of course, most had made their own throwing hammers, I was glad of that for there was nothing better for bringing down birds.

That evening when the guys got back, we had some good news Clair had found a flock of around fifty to sixty sheep and in a rather deep valley, Joe had spotted single males most of the day, and a small flock of six, so we would go for Clair’s flock. I had already dug up the ram and cut the meat into manageable sections for carrying, it had been cooling for a couple of hours, the dinner was hot though.

We had dinner and moved, we would have to be fast and work all night, to block the exits and we could still miss one and lose the lot. She would have to lead us on this one, we had also to carry quite a bit of cord, as she knew where the flock was, she hadn’t come back until she had watched them bed down for the night.

We worked through the night and had only one exit left to seal, we were working as quietly and as fast as we could, with two of us going back and forward to collect branches, to make a quick barrier. We had just got back with enough to finish it when around the corner came the sheep; they must have been trying the other ways and couldn't get out, and were now trying this way. Oh, they were not happy, but Joe noticed they were all in a narrow bit and were having trouble turning around. Clair said go for it and this snapped Joe and me out of our stupor, we ran at them causing complete mayhem as they tried to jump on each other’s backs and  just getting more tangled, we were grabbing back legs and tying them both together as fast as we could. I don’t know if Joe was being kicked as much as me but we would have some cracking bruises to show later,

Soon Clair was right there with us and I was running out of cord, at least the short stuff, I grabbed the long one from my body and started to tie them around the neck but still joined to another, then they were gone like magic. All we were left with was the ones we had tangled and tied their legs; we tied all their legs and had surprisingly seventeen sheep. Clair climbed a rock close by and said she couldn't see them in the valley, but just then she said wait there they are, they were running back and forward between the ways out. I had to warn Joe and Clair, I said you do realise how lucky we were there, if that barrier hadn’t been behind us, they would have knocked us flat as they ran right over the top of us. They asked what do you suggest Rick, so I said the only way I can see this working is if we take these back to camp and two come up every other day and catch however many you can, but leave the main flock here for as long as possible. We hobbled the ones we had and tied them by the horns to three others, even then leaving straight away, we reached camp after dark, we released the young ram as these were all ewes and we had got his fleece. I thought he would run but no, he ran about a hundred yards, saw no one was chasing him and stopped to eat grass.

We left them tied as they were for the night and went to bed, very early the next day we were up and sheering sheep we started with the ones that were older and we didn’t want. You have never seen sheep so butchered, talk about a bad hair day, they had turfs of fleece and small cuts everywhere. I had made up a type of disinfectant and had been putting it on the cuts, to help keep the flies from laying maggots in the wounds, once the older ones were done we let them go, and again they ran for a short time and then hung around like they were totally confused. I realised to late what was happening and just as I shouted to hold the sheep Clair and Joe both finished and re-leased their sheep, I hoped that the sheep I was thinking of wasn’t one of the ones re-leased. Unfortunately it was, we could only watch as they vanished over the bloody hill, damb we had for a short time had the lead ewe, well back to the hard work.

It seemed forever, just sheering sheep and turning the youngest sheep we were keeping into a new and stronger fold, we had to build a new shelter to keep the fleeces dry and safe from blowing away, our hands were killing us. I had never napped as much flint in my life, even the flint had trouble sheering sheep, but here we were six days later with all the sheep sheered and twenty two sheep to build a flock with. We had kept six of the best rams and the rest were one to three year olds and looking bloody terrible with their new haircuts. I noticed that night before we turned in, they looked a bit down, so I asked them what was wrong, they both said at the same time, they weren’t looking forward to hooking the wool and the sheep down to base camp. I cheered them up saying we weren’t doing it by ourselves, we would build sleds and the sheep would be helping that way they will be as knackered as us at night. The last day they had gone up for more sheep they had found the valley empty, a bear or something had basically crashed its way through the barrier. The sheep that were left had taken advantage and shot through, I was kind of glad for we only lost six or seven and if I had sheered another sheep I'm not sure my hands would have ever worked again. We packed up camp and had taken down all the barriers, but just put them to the side, just in case we needed them in the future. We had four sleds full of fleeces and another with fat and skins from the animals we had trapped while there, I showed them the best way to hitch the sheep to the sleds so they wouldn’t get hurt and would have no choice but to pull. Two days later, we pulled into a much different camp than we left, the team had been busy, we had communal ovens and toilets and showers thank goodness. It turned out Sharon had been a bit of a roman engineer, type historian, for she had built a bath, and not just any bath but a heated bath. She had the water running from the stream, to fill it and some type of fire under the bath to heat it. All the huts were built and finished with dirt floors and a fire pit inside, the toilets were brilliant they had wooden seats and water flowing under them quite fast I may add, the waste was carried away by a lined trough with a long branch like broom to sweep and keep the channel clean. It also went far enough away so no smell; they had run it into a couple of settlement ponds, with reads got from beside the stream to help filter the waste before re entering the main stream.

Other books

Hot and Haunted by Megan Hart, Saranna Dewylde, Lauren Hawkeye
Bootlegger’s Daughter by Margaret Maron
Wolfsgate by Porter, Cat
Flow: The Cultural Story of Menstruation by Elissa Stein, Susan Kim
Love Falls by Esther Freud
Elfmoon by Leila Bryce Sin
June (Calendar Girl #6) by Audrey Carlan
Wetlands by Charlotte Roche
West of Honor by Jerry Pournelle


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024