Harta-ak saw it coming, though, found another pool in the water and dove in ahead of it.
Bringing up the rear, Alex saw a small swarm of wasta-ta waiting for him. He ran straight for them, leaping up into the small yellow cloud. His momentum moving one way and theirs flying the other caused them to bounce harmlessly off him. He landed in a pool of his own and kept himself submerged, waiting for the cloud to pass.
Harta-ak ran out of oxygen first and poked his head up to take a breath. As he did, a yellow bomber flew at him and buried its stinger in his cheek. He screamed at the instant pain and brushed madly at it before falling back in the water.
One by one, they each were forced to surface to breathe and were attacked each time. All four of them received incredibly painful stings to the face, neck, and arms.
Finally, as one, the small attack squad of wasta-ta turned and flew away.
Alex popped his head up just in time to see the bees retreating.
Monda-ak had gotten over his snit and had followed them to the bank of the stream. He sat there panting at them. The wasta-ta flew right past him, completely uninterested.
Senta-eh was the next to surface, glancing wildly around for another attack. When none came, her natural calm asserted itself. She turned to Alex and said, “That plan did not work very well.”
They sat in the cold water for long minutes and eventually Monda-ak splashed in and joined them. The wasta-ta stingers were so big that they were easy to pluck out of each other’s skin, though they did tend to leave a jagged edge like when a fishhook is removed.
Red welts around the affected area turned into large areas of swelling as the poison spread.
Alex had gotten the worst of it, with four total stings. He felt light-headed and slightly nauseous.
“If I had gotten a few more of those, I think I would have passed out.”
“They are nothing to be messed with,” Versa-eh agreed. “Maybe our next plan can be from farther away.”
Harta-ak had taken a brutal sting to his left eye in addition to the one on his right cheek. That eye had completely swollen shut.
Senta-eh had gotten the best of it, with a single sting to her upper bicep. She stood, water running off her, and said, “Stay here. Try to keep cool water on the wounds. I will be back.”
Alex was in no frame of mind to argue with her. He found a flat rock and rested his head against it, letting the water flow over his stings.
After a few minutes, Versa-eh sat up, looked at the two men and laughed. “Please tell me I don’t look as awful as you both do.”
Harta-ak turned his head so he could see her through his one open eye, took in the massive swelling on her nose and forehead, and said, “No, no, your beauty is untouched.”
After nearly an hour had passed, Monda-ak left the creek bank and ventured into the middle of it, semi-damming up the flow with his massive girth. That increased the water depth for Alex and Harta-ak and both were grateful for it.
Finally, Senta-eh reappeared with a fistful of green and red leaves. She found a flat, round rock and another, sharper stone. She laid the leaves out on the flat rock and ground on them with the sharp stone, mixing a few drops of water with the concoction. Soon enough, she had a thick paste. She looked at Harta-ak. “Come this way.”
Harta-ak was reluctant to leave the cooling water, but he did slide over and pulled his face up. Senta-eh scooped a dollop of paste and gently applied it to the lumpy mass that had previously been Harta-ak’s handsome face.
She repeated the process with Versa-eh and Alex, grinding more of the leaves when needed.
Harta-ak stood up in the knee-deep water and said, “The pain is leaving!”
Versa-eh stood, held his chin, and turned his face one way then another. “The swelling is going down, too. You’ve found a miracle medicine here in the wilderness.”
“I didn’t find it,” Senta-eh said. “Werda-ak showed these leaves to me.”
The mention of the dead boy brought a sudden heaviness to the air.
“I think we can go back to camp, now. Time to try something new.”
Alex’s something new was nothing complex. Remembering how they had burned the mighty city of Lasta-ah, Alex decided that was the best course of action. The plan was to find pine tree pitch, cover one of Senta-eh’s arrows with it, light it on fire, and fire it into the dead tree.
Everything went according to plan. They gathered enough pitch to shoot three arrows, covered the shafts, then lit them on fire. From fifty paces away, they lit the arrows with a torch from their fire. Senta-eh fired them in rapid succession.
All three thunked home in the trunk of the tree. The arrows burned nicely, then went out.
They tried again, this time wrapping balls of the pitch in cloth and attaching to the arrowhead before lighting it on fire and shooting it at the tree. Again, the arrow plunked into the tree, the pitch and cloth burned nicely, then fizzled out.
“The upside to this plan,” Senta-eh said, “is that we are not running and screaming right now. Unfortunately, the wasta-ta didn’t even notice our efforts.”
Alex took a deep breath, held it, then let it whistle between his teeth.
“I don’t think there’s anything else to do. One of us is going to have to start set the tree on fire.”
Harta-ak’s fingers involuntarily touched his still-swollen eye. “Really?”
“If you have any other ideas, I’m glad to hear them,” Alex said.
Harta-ak was silent.
“It’s going to be dangerous,” Alex said, “but I have an idea of what we can do.”
Senta-eh closed her eyes and quietly said, “Of course you do.”
“What do we need to do?” Versa-eh asked.
“We need a bigger rope.”
To his own ears, Alex sounded like Sheriff Brody in Jaws, saying “You’re
