Thrill of the Hunt
They had told her not to go out hunting, not in her current state. Shana laughed at then. They told her it could be any day now. She told them, was she not the best hunter in the village? And besides, she was bored. And in the end, that was that.
And it had been a good hunt. She bagged three rabbits and a young deer, but she couldn't stop now. She was on a roll. And she saw some bear tracks. THAT would show them. And she'd have a nice lining for a new winter coat, too.
It was then, in the middle of tracking it, that she realized that the cramps she was feeling periodically all day may not have been a bout of indigestion after all.
Shana gripped her swollen middle as another such cramp tore through her. And this time, she felt something wet hit her feet.
"Damn," she muttered, using her bow to brace herself as the cramp faded into a dull ache.
In the distance, she heard a growl, and brought her bow to bear. She hadn't let this child slow her down in the past nine months, and she was not about to start now.
She slowly moved onwards, through a cluster of thick oaks, and there she saw it, the biggest grizzly she had ever seen, easily nine feet from tail to nose, pawing at a blueberry bush. She grinned despite the pain she was in, and slowly drew an arrow.
She felt another pain, this one the worst one yet, and she accidentily released the arrow, sending it skyward. This time, the pain was accompanied by a sharp pressure, forcing something downward.
She sighed inwardly. Why did they little brat have to want out now? Well, damn, if that was what it wanted, then she supposed that the only way it would leave her alone was if that was what it got.
Quickly, she waddled behind the thick oak that she had been using for cover, pulled her leather loincloth aside, and ducked down into a squat. If the bear got away while she was doing this, she was going to be very cross with her child.
As if her body was privy to her annoyed thoughts, another contraction ripped through her. Shana took a deep breath, grit her teeth, and bore down with everything she had. Pain coursed through her as she felt the child shift downward. Its father was not a small man, and it seemed that the child took after him.
The village midwife had told her that she would want to take it slow, to give the child time to come at its own pace. Well, a pox on that, she thought, giving another strong push. She felt her nether lips stretch open as the head descended.
'Hah,' she thought, 'this isn't as bad as the old hag said it would be.'
Shana immediately regretted this line of thought, as the latest pain was worse than the last few combined, and she couldn't hold back a snarl of pain as she bore down, feeling the child slip further out of her, inch by inch, until the head was fully crowned.
As the contraction subsided, she heard movement behind her. Panting, she carefully craned her neck and looked around the tree, and saw the bear looking toward her. Slowly, it began to lumber toward her birthing spot.
"Gods damn it," she whispered. Curse this spawn of hers! She was a hunter! Her life was not going to end like this, not because of a damn child.
Despite the immense pain she was in, she grabbed her bow and quiver and, with great care, stood upright, the child's head protruding from her stretched nethers. She would only have one shot at this.
Relaxing as best she could and taking a deep breath, she nocked a fresh arrow and pulled the bowstring taut. In her head, she counted down from ten, and quick as lightning, she hopped out from behind the tree. The bear was mere feet away from her as she loosed the arrow.
Her aim was true, and the bear took it right between the eyes, killed on the spot. As it fell, she felt another great pain. She dropped her bow, put her hands between her legs, and let out a roar that expressed a combination of pain and triumph as she pushed. In seconds, the child slipped out into her waiting hands amid a rush of fluids, and in short order began to wail.
Shana looked down at her baby - her son - and then at the fallen bear, and she couldn't help but grin ear to ear.
She had strong, healthy son, a hefty supply of meat and fur, and a story that would be retold for generations to come. Not too bad for a day's work.