It took until after noon of that day.
Um prompted Zeri to take the lead on the hunt. It had caught her by surprise at first, but she came around, and within her an eagerness fostered and grew. Yes, she did want to show off her own skills a little, in a way proving (vicariously, if not directly to her parents) to a befriended stranger that she was capable. More so, she had some proving to do to herself after yesterday's botched shots and the escape of the Zebras. To home she would bring a fine kill. Before she had left she promised her family a Delta Zebra--both Ma and Pa encouraging and supportive, if
still a little apprehensive. Yet that was before she had met Um, had seen the power of his bow and the superior technique of his archery. And the Water Buffalo was a powerful beast with a mighty spirit, a more dangerous hunt to be certain. And she didn't want to fail.
There were no immediate tracks or sign where they had landed at the shore, nothing that had disturbed the small rocks or the weeds overhanging the river further down. Zeri reckoned her direction, headed south, for north would eventually spill out into the saltwater sea and that would be no good. And through the lush grasses along the river bank they went, these sentinels of the untamed wilds brushing against their shins and their calves on their passing. The sounds of the running river and the gentle sway of the trees beyond the thin grassy bank kept them company, let their ears hear the song of the Spirits of Water and Air.
The sun above had made some progress in breaking through the calm gray clouds, splotchy bits of blue sky and the occasion burst of raw daylight before again it would be swallowed and the cool shade fell draped over the land once more. And it was during one such episode of brief sunlight that Zeri found some sign: dung. She crouched and looked down at it and didn't have to do much else--she could smell it, see plainly that it was fresh. The animals that had been here sure to be only an hour or two removed. She examined the dirt of this area of the bank between the blades of grass and found more droppings, yes, but also a few valuable hoofprints that gave an indication of the direction the herd had gone.
West. Due west, just about. Through the strip of forest that clung to the periphery of the life-giving river and then when the trees grew sparse and few out into the wide open grassland of the Steppe. Here so close to the river and the sea the grasses were green, but further into the interior of this vast landscape Zeri knew that their color shifted to an amber like her eyes or to a faded yellow like an autumn leaf. Hardy bushes and rolling hills and the occasional rocky outcropping were the only places in which to hide, and otherwise the sight of the Steppe stretched on until the land met the sky at the distant horizon.
And all of these--these bushes and hills and outcroppings--would be needed.
Zeri spotted far in the distance a herd, a flock of birds overheard giving them away before she had even laid eyes upon them. A mixed herd of animals, those selfsame birds and antelope and wild horses and Delta Zebra and water buffalo and even a mother boar with her piglets toward the edge of this gathering minding her own business.
But the spirits of the wind were with them, carrying their scent away from the herd. Zeri moved low and slow, practically crawling across the ground at certain points when they had to cross from one defilade to the next or from one bush to another. And she got as close as she dared, her approach taking nearly as long as the journey to the sighting of the herd itself. Now she was within a hundred meters of the herd, and she had her eyes set on a water buffalo that grazed lazily and stood closest to her, its neck exposed at just the right angle.
Zeri glanced to Um. Nodded. Quietly took an arrow from the quiver attached to her pack and nocked it from behind the cover of a thorny bush. Leaned out to the side and took careful aim. And loosed.
The arrow sunk right into the buffalo's thick neck. It jerked, bellowed, startled some of the animals near it, but did not fall. Zeri nocked another arrow and loosed--by some gracious allowance by the spirits of the wind or blind luck having it land also into the buffalo's neck, drawing more blood than her first.
And the buffalo reckoned where the pain was coming from. Turned toward the bush behind which hid Zeri and Um. And as the mass of the herd began to surge into motion with fright from this buffalo's grunting bellows and stampede away in a growing crescent of panic and the birds among gave flight and fluttered into the air above like a great flapping canopy, the wounded buffalo was the sole animal to charge directly at them.
Zeri made a small, nervous sound, but quickly withdrew another arrow and nocked it and took aim. Said sideways to Um amidst the thunder of a hundred hooves, "I can do this! I can do this."
She loosed another arrow and it sank with startling precision that was all but in stark contrast to her showing yesterday into the left eye of the buffalo. It swung its head about madly and gave out an enraged cry.
And kept charging toward them. Even as it thrashed its head and could not see clearly where it was going.
Um Min-Kyung