Noni called my soul searching selfish. She was often right so I did not argue. Sometimes one has to be selfish for a short time in order to make himself better for the majority. I understood this and so I was more than willing to shoulder any repurcussion that might arise.
What I was not prepared for was the influx of tribe beating down my wagon doors as they were desperately awaiting the culling process to begin. The first of the herds were small and the elder animals few. They were not hard to seperate from the others but the more they came the harder it was to sort them out. To keep them in a relatively orderly cluster of those who were to graciously die for our survival and those who would be making the trek to the Harigga in the North.
The first few days we worked well into the night by lamplight stopping only when the men, namely myself, began to fall asleep in saddles and we began to have to chase down calves and stray bulls that had run astray. There were grumblings in those first days. Mumblings and under the collar remarks about my ability to lead and my ability to rally these men in their task. I knew I had to find a way to make this work properly...I had to find a way to rally my own "Herd" if you will, if we were to rally the herd of our people.
So I devised a scheme. A plan. Whatever you want to call it. One that would be more efficient and perhaps put a little bit of the pressure on those who had to bring their bosk to us as opposed to us breaking out necks and backs. I devised a period of time that we would work. We would herd bosk from early morning until late afternoon. We would take a brief break to tend to our family, our own wagons, whatever have you, and then return to the task and work until four ahns after the sun went down.
The animals who would be slaughtered would be marked with red paint that I would have slaves mixing regularly. It would not he harmful to the coats or their meat and would help us keep them in order. Blue paint would be used for those who would make the trek and we would keep them seperated by a no man's land that would stretch for three-quarters of a pasang...an area that would be patrolled by those who were not herding.
This are running smoother now and we will soon begin to herding those animals that will be killed to the slaughtering posts which have been set up out of sight of the people and those who might be losing a friend or favored pet. Those are always the hardest to deal with and I have seen many a woman and young child cry over having to see us place those red marks upon their chosen friends.
I think I will speak to Tarra. Perhaps we will find a way to have a Haruspex present. It perhaps isn't enough that we thank the bosk we will slaughter for all that it will provide us in its life. Perhaps we need a haruspex present to assist the grieving and shower a little of that plains magic on a broken heart.
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