Page 56 of Circle of Days
“You’re looking for three things,” he said. “First, a steep hill or bluff. It doesn’t have to be very high, but it must be steep. A gradual slope’s no good. Second, a stream running along the foot of the hill.”
Cam said: “All the streams are dry.”
“If it only has a trickle of water, it may suffice, as long as it has the third thing you’re looking for, a few loose flints in the streambed.”
“Someone might have taken the flints.”
“Perhaps. But a miner would know they are a sign of a rich seam nearby.”
They came across a streambed that was almost dry, with just an intermittent trickle of water. Seft followed it to a low cliff. “Look at this,” he said. Water was seeping out of the side of thecliff into the streambed. “That’s called a springline. Water gathers any place where two layers of different rock meet. It might be chalk and clay, in which case it’s no good to you. But we’re hoping it’s chalk and flint.”
Cam said indignantly: “You mean we can’t be sure?”
“Yes. Dadda made that mistake sometimes, don’t you remember? We’d dig through chalk for weeks and come to a bed of useless clay.”
“But there are flints in this stream. Only a few.”
“Which is a good sign. The place to start digging will be a little way beyond the edge of the cliff. Let’s go up and look.”
The three brothers scrambled up the hill and crossed its peak. “Well, we were right,” said Seft. There was already a pit at the spot. He saw a hill of excavated chalk and a stack of new flints. They went to the edge of the pit and looked down. There was a climbing pole, and five miners were energetically breaking up the seam of flint at the bottom of the hole.
Olf said: “Well, that was a waste of time.”
“Was it?” said Seft. “Haven’t you learned what to look for when you’re trying to decide where to dig? And wasn’t that what you needed me to teach you?”
Olf grunted.
They walked along the top of the rise, passing three more pits, each being worked by a different family, before the ground sloped down again. They had started in the most thoroughly exploited area, and Seft realized they would have to go farther west to find unexplored territory. Olf and Cam, never patient, became irritated with the number of times they found good flint terrainthat was already being dug. But, Seft reflected, they were becoming better at identifying promising sites.
Around midafternoon they came across a hill with a springline and found no one digging. Seft said: “Look at the whole length of the spring, and decide where the middle is. That should be the center of the seam. Walk straight up the hill, not wandering left or right.”
He showed them and they followed.
“We start the pit a few paces from the summit.” He used a sharp stick to scratch a rough circle in the earth.
Olf said: “Let’s rest now.”
“Good idea,” said Seft. “We’ve walked a long way today.” They ate some of the food they had brought with them, then lay down. The weather was warm and there was no sign of rain—sadly—so they slept comfortably in the open.
Next morning Seft took his leave.
Olf said: “Aren’t you going to help us dig?”
“No,” he said. “I’m going back to my family.”
Cam said: “What are we going to eat?”
“I don’t know,” said Seft. He guessed they would survive on roots and leaves, and perhaps kill a hare or a squirrel occasionally. In any case he had done all he could for them.
“Good luck,” he said, and walked away.
“You’re abandoning us!” Cam said plaintively.
Seft shook his head bemusedly and walked on.
He had not told anyone, but he wanted to take another look at Stony Valley.
All those years ago, Dallo had laid out very clearly why it was impossible to rebuild the Monument from stone. Yet even thenSeft had thought Dallo gave up too soon. The problems Dallo had described might have solutions. Seft knew that Joia thought as he did, that Dallo had been too pessimistic.
