The SealEaters, 20,000 BC Page 14

  Sinehaught looked at Wen. He knew he must guide and protect the boy. “You will share my hut,” he said. “Do you have sleeping skins?”

  Wen understood the old man.

  “Yes,” he replied quietly.

  “Bring them here,” Sinehaught told him.

  Wen stood up, walked to the boat, and pulled out both backpacks. He carried them to Sinehaught, who stood up and led him to his hut. His hut was very large compared to the others. A pile of evergreen branches were cast by the opening.

  “It seems someone or more than one person has brought you some soft material for your sleeping place. Put the evergreens over there,” he said, pointing to a place along the hut wall.

  Wen did as he was told. He laid his furry skin on the boughs with the fur side up. He laid Mongwire’s skin with the fur on the down side, so he’d be between two layers of fur when he went black. He folded the hairless skins on top of the sleeping place. He put the backpacks against the wall after removing the spears from the cordage that attached them to the backpack.

  Sinehaught stepped over and took one of the spears in his hand. He examined it carefully.

  “Did you do this?” he asked.

  “I wish I could say I did it, but no, my father fully mastered the crafting of tools. He made them.”

  Sinehaught did not understand all of Wen’s words because he mixed words he knew with the ones he’d just learned. But Sinehaught learned that Wen’s father made the points.

  “Do you know how it’s done?” he asked.

  “Yes. My hands are just not skilled,” he said.

  “Will you let me take one of these to our expert spear point maker?” Sinehaught asked.

  Wen hated to part with any of them, but he handed the spear that was his least favorite to Sinehaught.

  Sinehaught returned the one he examined and took the one Wen offered. He understood.

  A whippoorwill began its nightly call. Wen huddled on his sleeping skins and began to shake, tears falling from his eyes.

  “What’s upset you?” Sinehaught asked, concerned.

  After some time, Wen replied, “My father died. I heard a bird (he made the sound of a whippoorwill). I was alone. You are like a father. I hear same bird.” Tears fell down his face.

  Sinehaught leaned the spear against the wall and squatted down beside Wen. “You are now my son. The whippoorwill is not a sign of death, Wen. It is a bird of the evening and night—nothing more, nothing less. Do not let fear grasp you. The Great Spirit created you. You have already found that when you were alone and in need, that same spirit brought you here to us. You have us as your people. There is no cause to fear. Whatever life brings you, the Great Spirit will not forsake you. He provides.” Sinehaught was slow and deliberate, signing often.

  Wen looked Sinehaught eye to eye. He understood. He wanted to believe. “The bird does not tell of the approach of death?”

  “No, Wen. It’s just a bird.”

  Wen smiled. “Thank you, Sinehaught. Thank you.” Wen understood he had a new father. That father was not about to die.

  The old man touched Wen’s shoulder. He stood. “I will return. I go to share this amazing point with our best spear tip maker.”

  Sinehaught left the hut with the spear. Wen was tired, not so much from rowing which he had done, but from the stress level he’d been experiencing. He laid down on the sleeping skins and went black.

  When Sinehaught returned, he took the folded hairless skin and covered the boy.

  The next day, Kalu asked Wen to talk to him. He had the spear point and was examining it. He wanted to know about the overshot flaking. Wen composed himself. He struggled to remember all the details of what his father had taught him.

  He explained about determining the size of the spear point by looking at the fragment of stone he’d be using to make it. He explained that a good point maker would see the point in the hunk of stone and then work to release it. He was unsure whether they understood, even though he used every sign he could imagine. He talked about examining the larger piece until he could see the stone that lay within. He admitted that he found that part confusing. His speculation, he told Kalu, was that you had to have a certain level of skill before that made sense.

  Kalu understood. The boy was right.

  Wen explained that you flaked to thin from side to side, being careful not to let the piece become too thin in the process. You did one side, flipped the piece over and worked the other side. Then, you rotated the pointed ends and repeated the process.

  Kalu was fascinated.

  Then, Wen explained, you had your basic form for the spear point. Because Kalu was their expert, he understood Wen.

  Then, Wen said, “From there it’s just flake with the wide end of the antler horn, dull down the flaked edge with a stone to remove little fractures that might collapse a platform from which you’ll strike. Dulling it also keeps you from cutting your hand. Then you strike off a flake causing flakes to go across the stone from side to side. It’s important to keep your fingers out of the direction you want the flake to travel. Fingers can stop travel of a flake. Each flake at this point can serve as a guide for the next. Watch the platform you set up to strike. Too thick and the flake won’t travel far. Too thin and the flake will be tiny.

  “I would think, Wen, it would be difficult to do this when the point becomes thin.”

  Wen laughed, having experienced that too often. “Well, when one breaks between the center and the tip, it makes a good knife,” he replied.

  Kalu laughed a good laugh and Wen joined him, pulling out a knife from the sheath tied to his belt. “This was forming so well,” he said still laughing, holding up the knife and turning it to show both faces of the object.

  Kalu took the knife. “You made this?”

  “Yes. Good knife—ruined spear point. It removes the flesh from a kill with great speed.”

  Others were fascinated to know what the two were laughing about, but even those who heard did not understand.

  Sinehaught was well pleased. He’d connected two people who needed to connect.

  Wen knew he had to find a way to fit into this small group of people. There were only twenty-five of them. Only one child was an infant. Wen noted it, but did not try to understand. He understood that the pairs were Akti and Uloma, Doho and Nomelt, Kalu and Ga, Ohmut and Talus, and Chief Os and Ain. Wen liked them and was impressed that they interacted well with each other, far better than SealEaters did with other SealEaters. He wondered how they maintained the peace so well.

  One day as he walked along the river’s edge with Bagaguha, Ohmut’s daughter of his same age, he asked her how it was that the people were so peaceful with each other.

  She tossed back her long unfettered hair and laughed gently. “We know when it’s time to break apart,” she replied.

  “What?” Wen asked. Clearly he did not understand.

  “We learned that when too many live too closely, it’s a good place for unwanted strife to grow.”

  “How many is too many?” Wen asked fascinated.

  “Forty to fifty,” she said without hesitation.

  “In our land we have no peace among our people. There is always some irritant. We have about a hundred people living together at the Cove. How do you find wives or husbands not too closely related?” he asked.

  “Once a year, when the leaves turn color, we gather in a single large group. There are about twenty of us small groups. Then those of us willing can choose to pair with another. If the group’s not too large, we can choose whichever group to join we would prefer. If the group size is approaching forty to fifty, we have to choose a different group.”

  “That’s interesting,” Wen said. “Bagaguha, I need to fit into this group, but I don’t know how. My age is a problem, I think. That, and my father is not here.”

  “Wen, what is it that interests you, if you were free to do anything at all you wanted?”

  “What I loved doing was learning to become a hea
ler. I wanted to know what causes sickness and what plants to use to cure it. I also wanted to know whether there were sicknesses that could not be cured. My father felt that was not manly. He wanted me to be a mariner or a hunter.”

  “How interesting. Have you talked to Sinehaught about it?”

  “No. Why would I do that?”

  “That’s what Sinehaught does. He’s our connection with things that are spirit, and also he knows how to keep healthy and how to cure sickness with the plants that grow here.”

  “Thank you so much! I may yet have a chance to become what I want so much to become.” In Wen the seed of hope sprouted again. The seed was precious to him.

  “Well, I’d think Sinehaught would be delighted to teach you. You’re quick to learn, Wen. You have a great ability to reason things.”

  Wen blushed. He didn’t understand blushing, and he wished he’d stop doing that.

  “Would you like to gather greens with me for our evening meal?” she asked.

  “That would be good,” he replied, “Will you tell me the names of the plants?”

  “I’ll share the names of all I know. Some I’m afraid I know are good to eat, but I don’t know their names. Sinehaught knows them all. Wen, you’re going to need clothing for winter. I see you have an extra fur and a hairless skin. If you give me those, I can make you some clothes for winter. You ask how you can fit in. That’s how I fit in.”

  “You’d do that for me?” he asked amazed.

  “Well, of course, I’m almost finished what I was making for Omm. I can start yours as soon as I finish his. Helping to keep us clothed is what I do.”

  “I am very grateful, Bagaguha. How can I return the favor?”

  “Someday I may be sick and you will cure me or at least make me comfortable. Just bring me the skins as soon as possible.”

  “I will,” he promised.

  They began to pick the plants that Ain and Talus would add to the boil bag for dinner. They found a good supply.

  After the evening meal, Wen asked Sinehaught whether he might teach him to become a healer. He admitted that his father wanted him to become a mariner, but he really wanted to become a healer from the time he was very young.

  Sinehaught looked down at the ground. He thought for some time. Then, he asked, “Are you asking because you bear ill will to your father for dying?”

  Wen looked at him as if he asked a question that was unthinkable.

  Sinehaught laughed, “Don’t bother to answer, Wen. I can see the answer. I just wanted to verify my own thoughts.”

  “I would never wish to offend my father alive or dead,” Wen said.

  “Good. Yes, Wen, I’ve been eager to find someone who could learn what I know. You have the ability to do it. Your thinking is the kind of thinking a healer needs to have. I will teach you. We start tomorrow.”

  Wen smiled. He could not believe that finally he’d have an opportunity to learn what he’d always wanted to learn.

  When Sinehaught wasn’t teaching him, Wen often walked the river’s edge. Often Bagaguha would join him and they’d walk and then gather greens for the evening meal. It wasn’t that it was planned but both looked forward to the meetings when they occurred.

  One day Bagaguha asked, “Wen, do you find me attractive?”

  “Well, of course, who wouldn’t? You are beautiful.”

  It was Bagaguha’s turn to blush. Nobody had ever said that to her.

  “I think you are growing into a very good looking man. In fact I sometimes dream of you.”

  Wen’s mouth fell open. He was shocked. Somehow he hadn’t thought of girls in a long time. He thought that Camun was the only girl in the world for him. As a result he hadn’t looked at girls as someone to be approached—as girls.

  “Have I offended you?” Bagaguha asked horrified.

  “No, not at all. Bagaguha, back at the Cove I grew up with Camun. We expected to try to pair, but we were too young. Even if we’d been of age, all the elders had to agree that we could join and one of the elders flatly refused any time anyone tried.”

  “That’s really strange. Why would he do that?”

  “He had power and he chose to use it in a bad way. I don’t know what caused him to do that, but though Camun and I wanted eventually to be husband and wife, we knew Reg would say no.”

  “That’s against all nature, Wen,” she said shocked.

  “It is. I have uncles who are in their thirties and forties who have never been able to take a wife.”

  She looked at him dumbfounded.

  “Why haven’t you all together risen up to overtake him?”

  “Because he’s an elder.”

  “There’s somewhere, Wen, I think, where respect for elders ends when they go contrary to nature.”

  “He is a strong powerful man.”

  “A strong powerful man can be subdued by many who are not as strong.”

  “That may be true, Bagaguha. Somehow, though, either no one ever thought of it or no group ever tried.”

  “That’s as sad as the other is unreasonable.” Bagaguha didn’t hesitate to voice her opinion.

  Wen nodded. He’d never thought of many weak against one strong. It was so simple, he wondered why the SealEaters hadn’t thought to use it against Reg.

  “Are you going to want a hat for the gathering this year?” she asked.

  “I don’t understand,” he replied.

  “When you go to gatherings, people who want to find a person with whom to pair don’t wear anything covering their heads. If you’re not interested this year, you wear a hat or some kind of head covering. Since you mentioned Camun, I thought you might want a head covering.”

  “Well, I’d like a head covering. I am not interested in pairing with anyone right now. I have much to think on, and I have much to learn from Sinehaught. Also, my body is not ready yet. I may meet my people two years from now, but I don’t know that I have the courage to cross the sea again. If I lack courage, then I’ll go without a hat.”

  Bagaguha listened. She was happy that he wanted a head covering. She actually would like very much to pair with him, but she was aware that there was someone named Camun who had occupied his thoughts.

  “Promise me something,” she said.

  “What’s that, Bagaguha?” he asked stopping to look into her eyes.

  She kept the eye contact while she said, “If you ever conclude that you can take a wife other than Camun, please let it be me.”

  Wen was startled.

  “Bagaguha, I promise you, if it’s not likely Camun and I will pair, I will ask you. That is a solid promise. I think you are wonderful, and I’m sure you would make a very special wife.”

  It was Bagaguha’s turn to be startled. Still locked eye to eye, both smiled. Wen walked to where she stood and they embraced. The promise was sealed.

  Instead of going to the gathering, Wen and Sinehaught along with Kalu and Ga whose children were very young, Akti and Uloma and their son, and Ain and her young ones remained at home. Bagaguha wanted to remain at home, but was not permitted.

  Winter came and it was cold, but Wen realized it was no colder than where he lived at the Cove, maybe a little warmer. The clothing Bagaguha made was wonderful. He had to admit it was better made than his clothes that were cached. He had provided the musk oxen material to Bagaguha and she used it in his boots. His feet had never been so warm in winter. She had put it as a layer between the boot and the boot liner. The mittens and hat she made for him were like nothing he’d ever seen. The hats had extensions that went out from the neck all the way around the neck and back so that snow melt and rain didn’t run through onto his shoulders. He could be outside for long times and still be fully warm without fear of frostbite or becoming damp within his winter clothing.

  The seasons passed, each with much to learn. Finally, the second year solstice drew near. Wen felt compelled to go to the cache site. He was in conflict over whether to return or to stay in the new land. He was thoroughly attac
hed to Bagaguha. But then there was Camun. He felt guilty somehow that he couldn’t quite pull an image of Camun to his thinking place.

  It was decided that Akti and Doho would accompany him to the cache site. By now, Bagaguha had become of an age that she decided to accompany him to the site, and she did not ask for permission from anyone. She simply would go. They would take the seal boat.

  The four left early in the morning. One of Wen’s backpacks was stuffed with jerky and the other was filled with Bagaguha’s pemmican made from bison, fat, and blueberries. All four rowed for a while. Then Akti and Doho stopped rowing, leaving the effort to Wen and Bagaguha. After a time, Akti and Doho relieved the other two. It went that way through the days until they reached the cache.

  Wen looked at the site. It did not appear that anyone had been there. They set up camp in the forest just beyond the cache. They were far back enough that they were not visible to any people—not SealEaters—who might pass by. Bagaguha was hurting but gave forth nothing but a brave face. She knew Wen was conflicted, but she didn’t allow herself to believe that he would return home with her. She went to be with him until the last possible moment.

  The four of them finally pulled over for the evening. They had reached the cache. Wen and Bagaguha went off into the forest to a glade they could see just beyond the forest’s edge. In the glade they picked greens and mushrooms for the evening meal. They’d warm them in a bag of water with heated rocks. Wen ate a few bites raw. He liked the greens either way.

  That evening, just after they finished eating, they heard some noise apparently on the sea shore. All four of them walked cautiously to the edge of the forest hiding themselves behind trees to watch.

  Suddenly, Wen exploded, “Urch!” he shouted, bursting from the forest and running to the river’s edge. Entering the river was a boat with Urch and Wapa. Wen called out, “Wapa!”

  “Is that Wen?” Urch shouted over the sound of the waves.

  Wen jumped up and down from the joy of seeing them again. The men rowed hard and made it to land where Wen, Akti, and Doho pulled the boat onto land.

  “Wen, I hardly recognize you. You’ve grown so tall. And look at the muscles!” Urch looked for Mongwire.