Noon had already passed as the party of hunters reached their destination north of the village. As the whip-necks strolled toward a large embankment topped with tall grass, the rear hunters started to unpack their shovels from their saddles. Cuganwa looked on toward the cliffs gawking at their sheer height.

  “Cuganwa, we are about to stop. Get ready,” Odaru instructed breaking the boy from his trance.

  The boy blinked as he looked down at the senior hunter. “Sorry. What was that?”

  “Get the shovel,” Odaru repeated. “The others are already starting.” The older hunter pointed to the other hunters noting their actions. “We’re here to help. Let’s not be in the way, alright?”

  “Right,” Cuganwa answered as he retrieved the shovel from their pack. It was a resin covered shoulder blade of a charge-horn that was fastened to a branch.

  As they neared rising embankment, a few of the whip-necks climbed onto the higher ground as the others waited by its side. Odaru lead Muga to stop by the higher ridge staying close enough to the ground for Cuganwa to step down easily. When the boy did, he followed the other hunters carrying their shovels as they gathered. Once everyone was gathered, they separated into smaller groups and went to different spots in the area. Following the others, Cuganwa started digging with at least a dozen other hunters in a mixed group.

  Another hunter then laid out two tarps on the ground as some of the others worked to pin the corners in place. Cuganwa followed their leads as the hunters tore into the earth piled the dirt onto one of the tarps as more of Lamoy’s men came by riding whip-necks to tie ropes to their saddles. In minutes, they already had a hole a few meters wide and knee-deep. The boy breathed heavily as he continued shoveling the dirt.

  ‘This is difficult. This group does this every trip?’ the boy thought as he jabbed at the dirt trying to loosen the compacted earth.

  A few chuckles rose within his group. “Relax, Little Charge-horn. You don’t need to keep up with us. Just try to remove as much as you can and we’ll be done soon,” one of the hunters commented. Already sweating, Cuganwa gave a quick nod.

  “What do you think for your second day, Cuganwa? Not a normal start for a hunter.” another hunter said as they shoveled more dirt onto the tarp.

  The boy shook his head as he looked back at a thin man with a thick beard reaching down to mid-chest. “I prefer running,” he answered getting a few laughed. Cuganwa’s wary eyes then trailed toward the cliffs just beyond the plains. “Do blood-manes bother you?”

  “No,” the hunter answered plainly. “It’s rare for them to approach us. Those demons already live near their game with the heavy-horns. Strong bastards can take some of the young twice our weight in a swoop.”

  Cuganwa froze and his eyes as he looked between the cliffs and the hunter. “If it’s that easy, why aren’t they after more?”

  “Boy, we have arrows,” another hunter interjected. “Heavy-horns don’t. The day they do, then everything would change.” Many of the others laughed, including Cuganwa. He imagined the heavy beasts wielding odd bows that matched their stature.

  A hunter with a short, pointed beard leered at Cuganwa. Keeping his tone low, the man then asked the boy, “I guess you're more worried about your witch than some bird.”

  Some of the other hunters gave glances at the man. Cuganwa furrowed his brow, uncertain what the man was trying to say. The hunter continued to look at the boy only turning away when another hunter stepped into his line of sight, and he looked at the ground. ‘I wonder if he’s one of Bo’ede’s men,’ the boy thought as he returned to his digging. Despite everyone being in one place, it did little to help learn who everyone was. The other hunter said nothing to the man before he turned away and returned to his own section for digging.

  The group remained silent for a moment as they continued their digging. Cuganwa found several roots he hacked through that the others told him to pocket the herbs to make salves. As Cuganwa struggled to unearth a few stones half the size of his head, the others began to mutter to one another. Two hunters began to speak about making a second village within the drylands. Cuganwa smiled, reminded of Iogda and Selsaj, the two hunters working on another dig site weren’t the only ones thinking of the same idea.

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  ‘The idea’s not so rare then,’ Cuganwa thought.

  Before long, smaller groups within the party formed as they took on discussions covering their personal lives, fears of the storm growing stronger, the events of the festival, and spirits seeming to return. Even as they spoke, the others were far ahead of Cuganwa as most of the hole they made neared waist-deep. The front and back of his tunic were now drenched in sweat.

  ‘Doing this nearly every day is crazy,’ the boy thought as he scanned around the area. None of the others were tired or at least did not show it. Cuganwa took note of their demeanor as they worked. ‘They’re not even worried about being spotted by the heavy-horns.’ A roaming free-rider moved about further away nearing the line of tall grass. ‘The heavy-horns are too tall to hide in the grass. That’s why they aren’t worried.’

  As Cuganwa took a deep breath, Odaru then rode toward his spot. “Cuganwa, would you like some water?”

  The boy looked up with wide eyes as sweat trailed from his brow and down to his chin. Cuganwa nodded his head as he rasped, “Yes.” Odaru chuckled as he lowered the water skin with a tether. Cuganwa took up the pouch and unfastened the stopper before chugging some of the water down before gasping and replacing the stopper. “Thanks.” Cuganwa breathed deeply.

  “Take it easy. This is your first dig. You look like you ran here from the village,” the hunter said with a chuckle. Some of the others smiled but, mostly remained quiet.

  “How’s the leg, Odaru?” one of the hunters asked.

  The man smiled as he answered, “Thanks to the elder, good enough. Maybe twenty days or so and it won’t be stuck like it is now.”

  “Good to hear. That fall must’ve been bad. Did your whip-neck really get that scared?” the man asked.

  “It was a large charge-horn. If I had to guess, it probably weighed as much as Muga here. But the Great Lord kept us all breathing in the end,” Odaru said. The others nodded as they let the wounded hunter leave.

  With the day crawling by, the pit they made was nearing Cuganwa’s shoulders. More of the hunters started to approach with halved long bones sharpened on both sides and laid them beside the pit.

  As Cuganwa continued to shovel, he then saw Lamoy approaching with her second following. The two seemed to argue as they approached their spot.

  Her voice grew louder as they brought bundles of the same bones with them. “It does not matter.”

  Her second was an older man with a thin build and short black and gray hair. “You should be resting. Coming out here would only cause trouble. We don’t know what those things did to you.”

  Lamoy narrowed her eyes as she dropped the bundle by the pit. “I walk. I breathe. I talk. Until I can’t do those things, I help the village first.”

  The boy looked up. He and several others glanced at the hunting leader finding her headwrap out of place and the two white streaks running through her hair. Cuganwa halted in his work and stared at the hunting leader. Some of the others noticed the boy was no longer working and followed his gaze to Lamoy.

  The huntress turned her sight onto the others who were staring back. Lamoy glanced at the others as she tilted her head forward and brushed her short hair back to display the white strands. “Yes. I saw a spirit. But, before any of you start making excuses for me or try to tell me to leave, the village comes first. And, I still breath,” Lamoy stated as she moved on with her second still trying to convince her to relax.

  ‘She still left the village to lead the hunt. What were those spirits? Did the witch show up too?’ Cuganwa questioned as he looked toward the cliffs once more.

  They started to remind him of the witch. She had killed the large charge-horn, knocked away an arrow, and now there were rumors of her leading or fighting spirits in the village. He placed a hand on his tarnished tunic remembering the swift kick she gave him when he lunged at her. Cuganwa thought of his father and elders’ words on killing only to lead back to the failed hunter and his obsession drove him to hurt someone else.

  “Keep shoveling, Little Charge-horn. There will be time for questions later. Our time is not endless,” a hunter pointed out as he left his shovel on the side and grabbed some of the bones.

  “R-right,” the boy answered meekly as he continued.

  After a few more inches of dirt were removed, the hunters stopped and began to plant the bones into the ground. Cuganwa climbed out of the pit and watched as they created a bed of spikes.

  ‘The way they do things is different from father’s group,’ the boy thought as he watched the hunters lead the clean tarp over the hole and mark the corners with blue rags. The boy shivered thinking of what he would expect from the trap they had made. He shook his head wondering what a large beast would look like falling in. As much as he wanted to ignore the feeling, his hands began to fidget as the carnage still reminded him of Deyunca.

  “Move, Cuganwa. There is nothing else for you to do,” another hunter instructed.

  The boy nodded his head as he turned and moved toward the other hunters waiting on the ground to the planes. He imagined himself falling forward onto the bones sending a shiver through his body. ‘Painful,’ the boy thought.

  As questions gathered in his mind, Cuganwa jumped down from the higher ground and climbed up the stirrups of Muga’s saddle. Once he reached his seat, Cuganwa looked out into the area watching as two whip-necks rode off into the tall grass.