As the hunting party walked back hungry and dispirited to the encampment, a wild bore wondered into view on a ridge. The hunting party immediately spread out to surround the pig. Each member of the party knew his task. The younger warriors would sneak around the other side of the ridge and attack from there. The pig would run the other way and into the clubs of Poppo and his backup older warriors.
Booka and the others moved stealthily thru the bushes silently as they have been taught since they could walk. Booka led the group.
The hog was grazing in the grass. It was lean but full grown. Lots of meat, at least for Poppo and the warriors and some for the rest of the tribe. Booka and his group sprang out of the bushes and the pig ran down the hill right towards Poppo and his group. As the pig came closer, Poppo sprang from behind a bush and swung his club at the pig’s back leg.
The pig went down and struggled to get back on it’s feet. Poppo , close behind, moves in to finish the pig off when his knee gives out and he falls. The pig , now on all four feet, limps away when Booka comes up and hits his other leg and the pig goes down again.
Before the pig can regain it’s footing, Booka moves in and hits the pig hard across the head. A loud crack echoes off the hillside and the pig goes down quivering but immobile . Booka moves in for the death stroke when Poppo pushes him aside and pounds his chest.
Booka feels an impulse to attack Poppo but restrains himself as he knows it would be instant death to attack Poppo, even though he felt he could defeat him if it was an even fight.
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