I take a long breath, huff it out of my nose, and go back to chopping.
Beh makes more noises, which I try to ignore as I finish with the wood. The damp chips clinging to my arm are itchy, and I just want to get this done and return to the cave with at least a little bit of wood to try to dry by the fire. The cold is an indication of how little time we really have left, and now that I have a mate to protect, it would not do to have me freeze to death looking for wood in the snow instead of keeping her warm in our furs.
“Ehd!”
I keep chopping.
“Ehd!”
I wipe my forehead as I break through the piece I have been working on and go on to the next log.
“EHD!”
I finally glance up, and Beh’s eyes blaze down at me. She makes a lot more noise and points down to the sticks and hide again.
She’s covered it with the chopped wood.
The entire hide holds not just what I have cut up but also some of the branches that were lying around loose and work well for rekindling the morning coals. On the hide is far more wood than either of us can carry in many trips back to the cave. Beh reaches down and grasps the ends of the two sticks on one side of the hide and stands—raising the whole thing off the ground. The hide does not touch at all—just the other two ends of the branches. She takes a couple of steps backwards, and the whole pile moves with her.
Now I understand what she’s been doing, and my eyes open wide at her discovery. I stand and approach her, reaching out to run my hand along one of the long poles. Beh smiles and makes more sounds as she drags it a little farther.
I catch up to her and take the ends of the poles in my own hands. I lift the whole thing up a little, and I can hardly believe how light it is. There has to be something wrong with the wood we’ve gathered. Maybe it’s hollow.
I check over the pieces even though I know they weren’t hollow when I chopped them up. They are solid and heavy. I bend down and try to pick up the hide full of logs, but I can barely move it! I go back to the ends of the sticks and grasp them tightly before pulling it all backwards.
It moves so easily!
Turning to my mate, I drop the sticks and wrap my arms around her shoulders in thanks.
With Beh’s hide on a stick, we get all the wood we need hauled back to the cave that day. We even have enough time for me to reset the rabbit traps, collect water, reeds, and cattails by the lake, and still return to the warmth of the cave before nightfall.
I watch Beh with her clay pots and see her with different eyes than I saw her with the previous evening. How did she know to make such things as pots from clay and a way of carrying things I have never seen before or even considered? Now that I have seen it, it seems a natural and easy thing, but I don’t think I ever would have thought of it on my own.
Rubbing at her shoulders and back and touching my nose to the side of her face and neck, I try to show her my gratitude. I use her wood carving to help her untangle her hair but pull back when she tries to do the same for me.
I want to do everything I can for her.
That night, I wait for her to call my name-sound over and over again in pleasure before I finally enter her. When I am done, I bring her food and water and then hold her tight to my chest as she sleeps. The next day, I take grasses from the field and weave them into a new mat for Beh, though it isn’t a very nice one; at least it is not falling apart like the old one.
Beh watches me and sometime shakes her head back and forth with a little smile on her face. I think she is pleased. I hope she is. During the day, we use her hide on a stick for gathering. Every night, I touch her gently with my hands and my nose. She brings her lips to mine, and I feel her pleasure over and over before I place myself inside of her.
I would have done anything for her before simply because she was mine to protect and because I wanted to put a baby inside of her, but her hide on a stick has changed so much. I’m now in awe of her in a way that is far beyond her beauty and willingness to allow me to provide for her and take me inside of her. Previously when we walked to the lake, there was only time for one trip in a day. We would often leave some things behind simply because we could not carry them back. With the hide on a stick, I can catch many more fish to dry, and Beh can bring her clay back to the cave to finish. We work harder and faster at the water’s edge to pull up cattails and even collect nutgrasses, mushrooms, and grain on the way back.
No matter what we load onto the hide on a stick, I can still pick it up and carry it—with far more than I ever could have carried in my arms. I don’t understand it at all. It’s not just a matter of balance. With Beh’s hide on a stick, I can actually lift more weight than I can without it.