'I think they ought to do it,' Fangslayer said.
'They have to learn sometime,' Catcher added.
'Of course they do,' Suretrail said. 'But you need at least four to hunt black-neck. If they wanted to go out with a couple of more experienced hunters, okay. I'm not worried about Brightmist or Deerstorm. It's Crystalmoss.'
'She's the best thrower in the tribe,' Fangslayer said.
'With stones and darts and javelins,' Suretrail said. 'That's not heavy enough for black-neck. And she's not even fully grown yet.''
'It's Greentwig who's the real problem,' Bluesky said. 'He's just not ready.'
'He's old enough,' Fangslayer said.
'They don't have enough experience,' Suretrail insisted. 'None of them are ready for this kind of hunt yet. Black-necks are too tough, especially at this time of year.'
'And Tall-Trees is too far away,' Bluesky said. 'It would take them half a day at least just to get there.'
'And besides,' Suretrail said, 'I've already told them they couldn't.'
'I still think they ought to have their chance,' Fangslayer said.
'They'll never learn,' Catcher said, 'if they don't find out for themselves.'
Glade, Grazer, and Dreamsnake came to join them. They already seemed to know what the discussion was about. Bluesky added wood to her fire so that they could be included in its light. The others made room for them.
'Talon and I,' Glade said, 'took Greentwig and Crystal-moss out hunting yesterday. Beaver, up by the marsh. Crystalmoss did all right. But Greentwig, I don't know. I don't predict a long life for him.'
Bluesky brought out a pouch of dreamberries and passed it around.
'An elf his age should have an adult name,' Fernhare said. 'Crystalmoss has hers.'
'I think Deerstorm has what it takes,' Grazer said, 'and not just because I'm her father. Brightmist, too.'
'They want to do this for themselves,' Fangslayer said.
'Of course they do,' Glade said. 'They want to prove themselves. But Greentwig is… just… the combination just won't work.'
'He is something of a disappointment,' Dreamsnake said gently. 'But Glade, you and Fernhare can't take care of Greentwig all his life. He must learn-somehow-or die trying.'
'I know,' Glade said sadly.
'If Longreach were here,' Bluesky said, 'maybe they'd let him be a part of their hunt. He's not that much older than Greentwig. With five, that would be fine.'
'If they could bring in a black-neck,' Grazer said, 'they would certainly prove themselves.'
'They would indeed,' Freefoot said. He chewed another dreamberry, then sat back to think.
'We can all remember,' he said at last, 'when we were first given the chance to hunt, not with our elders but on our own-not just for ravvits but for serious game.' The others listened without comment. 'We can all remember when we were first given full responsibility for our own hunt, whatever game and whatever place we chose. For some of us that's been a long time.'
Suretrail looked away. His decision was being challenged. Fangslayer just stared into the fire.
'Suretrail,' Freefoot said, 'you did the right thing when you told them not to go.'
Suretrail muttered an acknowledgment.
'But it's my responsibility now,' Freefoot went on, 'not yours. And Fangslayer,' he turned to his older son, 'you are right too. Those four are nearly of an age, and they must
become adults. We cannot deny them their chance, as we all have had, even though they die. Even though.'
For a moment, all were silent. 'And it's not fair to Brightmist or Deerstorm,' Freefoot went on, 'who will be full adults soon enough. Now is the time. Let us hope they all come back alive.'
The next morning Shadowflash went with Brightmist and the other young hunters when they left Halfhill. The weather was cool, and there was a slight mist in the forest. Shadowflash liked it when the forest was that way. Of course he liked the forest any way when he was with Brightmist. He wanted to go with her today, but he knew he would not be welcome this time. He was only going to see them off.
They went upstream a way and then the four young hunters paused to call their wolves. Answering howls came back from different parts of the forest.
The four youths were excited about the hunt, and now that they had finally gotten permission, a bit apprehensive as well. That was good.
After a moment Fog, Brightmist's gray bitch, came walking toward them. She was a big old wolf and seemed to know that something special was about to happen. Then Scarface and Mask appeared, bounding lightly through the brush. Scarface was Deerstorm's wolf, who bore the marks of a less than successful encounter with a forest pig. Mask was Greentwig's companion, black across the eyes and tawny brown elsewhere. Behind them came Dancer, long-legged and swift, bounding up to Crystalmoss's side. The elves greeted their animals, in the way of elves and wolves.
Then Brightmist turned to Shadowflash and put her hands on his chest.**We'll be all right,** she sent to him.
**I know. Keep an eye on Greentwig.** He did not look at the youth, tall for his age, handsome, sturdy, and somehow younger than Crystalmoss.
**This could make a difference for him,** Brightmist sent.
**It will, if he survives.**
'Let's go,' Deerstorm said. 'You two can cuddle when we get back.'
The wolves were impatient too, They could sense their companions' excitement and wanted to get on with it. Shadowflash touched Brightmist's pale ruddy hair, then turned and went back to Halfhill.
The hunting party went upstream to the west. The mist dissipated before they got to the big south loop, which they cut across instead of following, and by the time they got to the marsh the day was warming. They had been too excited to have breakfast so they caught a few of the marshrats that lived there. The animals were so plentiful and slow that it was hardly hunting.
The stream went on beyond the marsh, but they crossed the water there and headed southwest. The ground rose. Bald Hill was directly to the south, though its rocky top was not visible from this far away. They passed its sloping shoulder, moving quickly, ignoring the plentiful small game. It was an easy walk, though the forest was dense with undergrowth.
Still, it was nearly noon by the time they got to the edge of Tall-Trees. Brightmist had not been there before. She couldn't help but pause as they left the denser forest and entered the parklike area.
The trees were huge deciduous junipers, each one twenty or thirty paces or more from its nearest neighbors. The ground was covered with a ruddy-gray carpet of fallen foliage, scalelike and ankle-deep. The branches overhead completely covered the sky, so high that they got dizzy looking up at them. The tree trunks were so big around that the four of them together holding hands could not encircle one. The
bark was shaggy and loose, and gave no purchase when they tried to climb.
The forest floor was not completely bare. Here and there were a few small plants and shrubs that preferred deep shade, but they hardly obstructed the view. They could see for hundreds, maybe thousands of paces in every direction.
Some ways off was what, had it been in a clearing, they would have called a copse. It was a dense, rounded mass of brush and vines that grew where the trees were farther apart, and where the sun was able to come down from the canopy of branches overhead. It was maybe thirty paces across, its verge abrupt, and the taller trees within it were about four times as tall as an elf. Still, the lowest branches of Tall-Trees were many times higher than that. There were other similar copses farther off, some smaller, some larger.
They were all in awe of Tall-Trees. Even the wolves seemed to know that this was a special place, the last of an ancient forest left over from some previous age.
'Look,' Greentwig said. He pointed. There, so far away they could not tell what kind it was, was a buck deer. It was walking alone, and they watched it as it went from one great tree to another and then disappeared into a copse.
'That's where we'll find the black-necks,' Deerstorm said, 'in the copses.'
