Time's Last Gift by Philip José Farmer

  Fleetingly, Gribardsun wondered if Silverstein was hoping that his rival (as he undoubtedly thought of him) would get killed. He was the only one who had not protested when Gribardsun said he was going to hunt with only native arms.

  Silverstein, however, could not win. If Gribardsun was killed or hurt, then Silverstein’s guilt would punish him. If Gribardsun performed well, then Rachel would regard him even more highly, and Silverstein would dislike him even more.

  The youth, Thrimk, went straight to the pass giving onto the narrow valley he had seen in his dream. Of course, he must have seen it in reality more than once. Though the valley was six miles away from the village, it was within the territory ranged by the Wota’shaimg. The tribesmen had not come here recently, however, for fear of encountering the other people who had moved in. The Wota’shaimg called these the Wotagrub, the Bear Robbers.

  The contacts of the two people had been few and brief after the invasion of the Wotagrub’s village. The Wotagrub fled whenever they met Wota’shaimg, even though the latter were outnumbered. Once, however, a lone youth - Thrimk, in fact - had almost been hit by a heavy boomerang. The weapon had come sailing from a pile of boulders on the side of a hill. Thrimk had foolishly tried to locate his assailant, but the man was gone.

  The head men had urged Gribardsun to clean out the Wotagrub, saying that there was not enough game in the area to support their own people for long, let alone an additional tribe. Moreover, the Wotagrub had not been punished enough for their theft.

  Gribardsun had refused. He had nothing against the so-called Wotagrub, who had done only what their enemies would have done in their place. Moreover, though he did not tell the Wota’shaimg so, he intended to study the Wotagrub. And he certainly could not get friendly with them if he decimated them.

  The hunters stopped when Thammash raised his hand with a spear held straight up in it. He nodded at Thrimk, who had also stopped. The youth shook his spear at them, smiled, and trotted off into the pass. He was a tall fellow with light brown hair and a scraggly beard. He had not yet attained his full growth. He was noted for his swift running and his high spirits, alternating with fits of deep depression. His father was Kaemgron, the best worker in stone and wood weapons in the tribe. But Thrimk and his father quarreled often.

  The nucleus of the best hunters, with Kaemgron, who was supposed to stay close to his son, and Gribardsun, trotted after Thrimk a minute later. Von Billmann climbed the side of the hill on one side of the gap, and Silverstein climbed the other side to take pictures.

  A narrow stream wandered out of the mouth of the valley. Along its sides were unusually heavy growths of vegetation, though none were over six feet high. Gribardsun saw the vegetation moving. Occasionally Thrimk’s head would appear. Then he saw the brown tip of a horn plowing through the little trees. He repressed a shout. A moment later he heard the sudden thudding of heavy feet and the thrashing of little trees bending and breaking under the onslaught of a huge body.

  Thrimk should have gone in far more cautiously, and he should have tried to lure the behemoths out into the open. But he must have been overconfident because of his dream. And he also probably wanted to impress the tribesmen with his bravery. Whatever his reasons, he had made a fatal mistake.

  Thrimk yelled, there was a very loud thud, and the youth’s body went sailing through the air while a tall horn followed it and then the shorter horn appeared and then the head of the rhinoceros as the beast completed the upward toss.

  Both beast and man disappeared, but the vegetation waved and shook as the beast turned and charged again.

  The hunters were setting up loud cries by now. They ran up to the edge of the vegetation and poked their spears into it and shouted. Gribardsun looked up at von Billmann. Gribardsun was not wearing the tiny communication set today. Now he regretted not having permitted himself any product of civilization.

  The German, however, saw him and waved at him. Then he gestured into the valley and held up seven fingers. Seven rhinos.

  Presently the vegetation thrashed and bent and cracked again, and a great woolly rhinoceros burst out. He was larger than any the group had yet seen, and his hide was covered with brownish, tightly coiled hair like rather sparse sheep’s wool.

  He stopped after he broke the greenery, snuffed, and then trotted back and forth, his head lifted high.

  A female and her baby broke out of the woods and then another male and female and a baby and a half-grown female.

  The first beast had blood upon his horn and on his hoofs.

  Kaemgron yelled and ran forward and then cast his spear. It struck the huge male on the shoulder, and the tip of reindeer antler penetrated about two inches. The atlatl had given the spear considerable force.

  At that the rhino, which had not been able to make up its mind which way to charge, or, indeed, to charge at all, started out for Kaemgron. The earth shook as its heavy legs pounded, and its head was slung low.

  Kaemgron turned and ran. Angrogrim threw his spear, and the missile penetrated perhaps three inches into the right rear flank just forward of the upper part of the leg. But the rhino did not even seem aware of the wound.

  Other spears missed or, striking, bounced off harmlessly.

  The men scattered.

  The rhino did not allow itself to be distracted by all the yelling and running figures. It headed straight for Kaemgron and was going to catch up with him within the next twenty or so yards.

  The second male also charged.

  Gribardsun ran in with a spear he had snatched from a man in flight, and rammed it into the eye of the beast as it passed him by at three feet.

  The spear was torn out of his grasp, and he was whirled around violently and thrown to the ground.

  Von Billmann’s express rifle boomed, and the second rhino stumbled, recovered, and charged again, though not as vigorously. Its goal was Gribardsun, who was just getting to his feet.

  The express boomed twice, the rhino collapsed, its legs folding under it. Blood ran out of three wounds on its left side and out of its mouth.

  The first behemoth was also dead. Gribardsun’s spear had driven into its brain.

  The remaining beasts had turned uncertainly and moved back into the brake. Von Billmann signaled that they were now moving rapidly up the valley. Gribardsun picked up one of the spears that had ricocheted off the beast and went into the brake. It did not take long to find what remained of the unfortunate Thrimk.

  Kaemgron pushed past Gribardsun and then wailed loudly. He went around the corpse three times widdershins, dragging his speartip in the earth, and then he returned to the body of the rhino that had killed Thrimk. There he beat the animal over the head with the butt of his spear, wailing and weeping all the time. Then he walked three times counterwiddershins around the beast and cut off its tail with his flint knife. He gave the tail to Gribardsun, who stuck it in his belt. Gribardsun recovered his spear, noting that the reindeer antler tip was loose.

  Kaemgron returned to his son’s body to mourn. Those who followed him also began wailing. But those who stayed to cut up the two carcasses were jubilant. They laughed and smeared blood over their foreheads and lips and dipped their index fingers in the blood and spotted Gribardsun’s forehead with the blood. After von Billmann came down off the hillside, he was daubed with blood, too.

  ‘That was very good shooting, Robert,’ Gribardsun said.

  Tve practiced enough in the preserve,’ von Billmann said. But you, you were magnificent! Right through the eye, and you had to crouch and drive it upward, the rhino’s head was so low! If it had turned on you…’

  ‘But it didn’t,’ the Englishman said. ‘He had his heart set on Kaemgron. Though it is true that the beasts are very unpredictable and he might have turned.’

  He did not seem to want to talk about his feat. But he looked as if he were bursting with happiness.

  Drummond joined them. He said, ‘I got some fine shots, but the people back home aren’t going to believe them.’


  Thammash approached Gribardsun. ‘We have plenty of meat for a week or so,’ he said. ‘And the mourning for Thrimk must start soon. But the day is far from being over, and it would be well if we pushed on and killed more. What do you think?’

  Though he had been treated with great politeness and respect from the beginning, Gribardsun had not before been asked to decide any course of action. Apparently his spectacular feat had made him the equal, or perhaps even the superior, of the chief. He was now one of them - in some respects anyway.

  Von Billmann had been daubed with the rhino blood, and he was treated with great respect too. But the tribesmen seemed to believe that he was secondary to the Englishman, Perhaps they thought this because Gribardsun, being the first one to use the rifle, was considered to be the owner. And he had loaned his thunder stick while he killed the rhino with unmagical weapons to show that he could use them as no one else could.

  Gribardsun considered and then said, ‘We should push on, I believe. Why waste the day?’

  The body of Thrimk was wrapped in a great bearskin and six men were delegated to watch the body and to cut up the two behemoths. Leaving these behind weakened the party, but the hyenas, wolves, lions, and bears had to be kept away.

  The party set out again toward the edge of the plain where a herd of mammoths was eating. The great beasts did not pay them any attention until the hunters were within fifty yards. They were downwind, and the mammoths, like the elephants of Gribardsun’s time, were weak-eyed. But when they detected the mass of humans, they began moving away. Several big bulls, however, threatened them with short charges and much trumpeting and tearing up of small trees.

  The very long and fantastically curved tusks, the huge hump of fat on top of the head, the long reddish-brown hairs, and the sheer size of the beasts was very impressive.

  The men spread out in a deep crescent formation. While the center held the attention of the bulls, the horns advanced very slowly.

  One of the bulls broke and ran toward the herd. The other two kept up their bluffing charges until the center had gotten within fifty feet and the horns of the crescent were past them. Then the biggest bull charged.

  The plan was for the center to turn and flee, drawing the beast after it. The horns would close in and try to hamstring or spear the beast.

  The center was not imitating panic. Its members were scared, and rightly so. The beast was over eleven feet high at the shoulder, weighed possibly four tons, and was running faster than any man.

  Only Gribardsun did not run. He waited with his spear butt resting against the notch of the atlatl. When the beast was a shrilling gray and reddish-brown wall with great curving ivory tusks and uplifted trunk and big outspread ears and little red eyes, only thirty feet away, he sped to one side.

  The mammoth started to turn toward him, but it wasn’t fast enough. Gribardsun cast the spear from the atlatl, and half its length disappeared into the beast’s left front leg.

  The animal went down with a crash that must have broken some of its bones. Trumpeting agonizedly, it struggled to get back onto its feet.

  The hunters ran in and lunged, driving their flint or reindeer-antler-tipped spearheads into the stomach or under the tail.

  But they ran away then, because the second bull had decided to charge too. It shook the earth, and it screamed through its uplifted proboscis.

  Gribardsun’s spear had been snapped off when the beast fell on it. He had only a stone axe, which he took from his belt and threw. But, it might as well have been made of feathers. It rotated through the air and its head struck the animal in the open mouth. It bounced out, and now the mammoth was concentrating on him.

  He turned and ran. As he did so, he looked for von Billmann, who had been on the left with the rifle. He could see nothing of him and had no time to speculate where he was.

  Though Gribardsun was very fast, he was not as swift as the mammoth. Its long legs covered the ground faster than his could, and suddenly the trumpeting and thundering of the hoofs was close behind him. With a yell he leaped to one side, and the mammoth reared up and whirled around with an unbelievable, and terrifying, swiftness.

  Gribardsun ran forward and through the front legs of the startled creature and then threw himself to one side.

  The mammoth whirled around him, stopped, and reversed its horizontal rotation on seeing the man rolling away.

  Angrogrim, yelling, ran in past Gribardsun and hurled his spear into the open mouth of the beast. Its point disappeared into the pinkish flesh.

  Gribardsun leaped up and ran off with the mammoth again pursuing him. Shivkaet launched a spear from his atlatl not ten feet from the beast, and the shaft drove at least a foot into its side.

  The mammoth, however, would not be turned aside. It had its heart set on trampling Gribardsun.

  The Englishman looked to his right. The tribesmen were running toward them with the intention of hurling their spears at the beast. Beyond, Drummond was looking through the camera’s viewfinder. He was carrying a 32-caliber rifle with explosive bullets, but he seemed intent only on getting good pictures.

  The yelling hunters swarmed in and the spears flew. One scraped Gribardsun’s shoulder and another plunged into the ground and he had to leap over it.

  But a series of thuds told him that many had plunged into the mammoth. He looked behind him; the beast had slowed down. Half a dozen shafts were sticking out from its sides, and one had entered a few inches into its right front leg and lamed it.

  Then the express rifle boomed out three times, and the beast, gouting blood from great holes in its side, fell over. The impact made the earth quiver under Gribardsun’s naked feet.

  Drummond, his rifle still suspended on a strap over his shoulder, walked up and circled the beast, his camera taking in all the details.

  Von Billmann, looked distressed, ran up to the Englishman.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t shoot sooner,’ he said. ‘But I caught my heel on a rock and fell on my head. I was stunned for a minute or so.’

  He brushed the back of his head and showed Gribardsun the blood still welling from the cut.

  Silverstein did not comment. The Englishman said, ‘I realize the necessity of taking films. But didn’t you understand that I was in bad trouble?’

  Silverstein flushed and said, ‘No, I didn’t. By the time I realized that von Billmann should be shooting, it was too late. And then things happened so fast that I froze. But Robert did shoot then, and everything seemed all right.’

  ‘In the future, the cameraman will have to be a backup for the rifleman,’ Gribardsun said. ‘An alert backup.’ He turned away. There was nothing more to say. Silverstein was an intelligent man and would realize what Gribardsun could have said. Gribardsun was not sure that Silverstein had frozen because of panic. He might have been hoping, consciously or unconsciously, that the mammoth would trample Gribardsun.

  The Englishman waved away the tribesmen who wanted to smear his forehead with the mammoth’s blood. He sterilized the cut on the German’s head and sprayed it with pseudoskin. Then he accepted the mammoth’s tail and permitted the daubing.

  The rest of the day was heavy work. The beasts were cut up into pieces small enough to haul. The entire tribe, except for the sick and the very old, of whom there were few, helped to carry the meat in.

  While the work was going on, the vultures, ravens, wolves, and hyenas gathered around. Presently two cave lions appeared, scattered a pack of hyenas, and occupied their spot. They sat watching, occasionally roaring but not offering to approach closer. And then the hyenas suddenly attacked the lions.

  Gribardsun shouted at Drummond to take pictures. This was too good to miss. There was nothing cowardly about these great beasts, and their teamwork was worthy of wolves. One would dash in and snap at a lion, and when the lion whirled and leaped, another would run in behind him and bite. Every time a lion bounded after a fleeing hyena, he had to quit chasing it because of painful bites on his tail or rear legs.


  But a hyena was caught and killed by one of the lions as it tormented the other. Before it died, the hyena bit down once and the immensely powerful jaws broke the lioness’s right front leg. The lioness closed her jaws on the hyena’s hindquarters and scooped out its entrails with a huge paw. But she was crippled thereafter, and her mate, a giant possibly a third larger than the African lions of Gribardsun’s time, was hard put to it to defend her. He was of a beautiful golden color that reminded Gribardsun of a pet he had once had in Kenya. He lacked the mane of the African lion, however.

  The people had stopped working on the mammoths when the uproar of the battle broke out. Thammash spoke to Gribardsun.

  ‘Those lions may be the ones that killed Skrinq last year. It would be good if we made sure that the male is dead, too, and so revenge Skrinq. And also make life a bit safer for us.’

  ‘I think the hyenas will do your work for you,’ Gribardsun

  The lion had just wheeled on a tormentor, and as he did so, the two who had been dancing just a few feet from him, ran in and seized a leg. They gave one bite and spun and raced away. The lion turned again, but he fell on his side. Though he got up immediately, it was evident that he was hamstrung in one leg. ‘After the lion is dead, kill the hyenas,’ Thammash said. ‘We have lost more people, especially children, to the hyenas than to the lions.’

  ‘When I was a young man, I hated hyenas,’ Gribardsun said. ‘They seemed to me to be only cowardly stinking carrion eaters. But I came to know them better and to end up by admiring them. They are not cowardly, just intelligently cautious. They hunt quite often and bring down game. And they have affection for their cubs and can, if caught young and raised properly, be very intelligent and affectionate pets.’

  The idea of raising any animal as a pet - except for the bear cubs - boggled Thammash. But that anybody could admire hyenas almost staggered him.

  The tormenting attacks lasted for about five minutes more. Then the lion was bowled over and he and about six hyenas became a rolling, roaring, cachinnating, yelping mess. Two hyenas were killed and one was severely wounded. But the lion was dead, his windpipe crushed between a male’s jaws.