The SealEaters, 20,000 BC Read online

  Arangawee, Shingamoana, and Pelamutazona cheered when he speared the sand seal. They understood. Their mouths gaped. Arangawee quickly recovered and told Plak to climb in their boat. He was more inviting than threatening. Plak, without a lot of alternatives, climbed in the boat. Shingamoana and Pelamutazona pushed the dugout into the river and they headed south. As they traveled, the men would sometimes point to something and say a word. Plak tried hard to learn the words he heard. By the time they arrived at their destination, he had learned enough to communicate on a basic level.

  At their main village, they introduced Plak to their chief, Piatne. They sat at a large fire and talked. Arangawee told of their meeting, where Plak was from, and how he lived crossing the eastern sea. Plak understood nothing of what was said.

  Chief Piatne told Arangawee to take Plak to the men’s house for a moon to teach him their language, so he could question him. Arangawee seemed a little reluctant, but he did as he was told. Days passed quickly while Arangawee neglected all normal duties to focus on Plak’s learning the language. Fortunately for both of them, Plak wanted to learn as much as Arangawee needed him to learn. While learning Plak began to ask many questions. Frequently his questions were geographical.

  Plak had learned that these natives knew of four bodies of salt water: the eastern sea, the southern sea, the western sea, and, from their description, the fourth body of salt water seemed to be a lake. It made no sense to him that a lake could be a sea.

  Plak learned well. After two moons, Arangawee brought him to Chief Piatne. The chief didn’t bother to put him at ease, but rather he began asking questions.

  Piatne asked, “Where were you going when our people found you?”

  “I am a SealEater. Some of us came here to explore to find a new land. Our people are squeezed between advancing ice sheets, mountains, and warring people. I was to return to my land across the eastern sea to bring others here. I chose to explore this land. It is an amazing land and I want to see all of it.” Plak’s use of language was good, but occasionally he had to supplement with signs.

  “You do not feel responsible for your people?” Piatne asked.

  “I am one of thirteen people who came here. Others can make the crossing and bring our people to this land. It was clear as soon as we found land this would be a good land. We should have returned then. Now I’ve seen this land. I want to see more. I starve for exploration. Here I’d be fed well for the rest of my life—both for my belly and for my thinking place.”

  The chief looked at him for a long time. Then he asked, “Why do you have so little concern about your people?”

  Plak was deflated. He thought about what the chief was saying. Finally, he replied, “I love my people. There are problems. We have six elders. Unless they all agree, no one can take a wife. Elders have multiple wives, and no one else has been able to take a wife. One elder named Reg refuses all requests. We have some men in their fortieth year who have not been approved to take a wife. I am but seventeen. I don’t want to wait that long. I want to explore and take a wife, when I find someone who wants to be my wife.”

  The natives who listened to Plak were dumbfounded. The chief had a much wrinkled brow. Finally, the chief said, “That is utterly unnatural. Why haven’t the people killed this man, Reg?”

  Plak looked at the chief, shocked. The question had been asked numbers of times, and it always made the SealEaters look weak in his mind.

  “Chief,” Plak said, “Reg is very large. He has the strength of two or more men. Men among the SealEaters fear him.”

  “Many men can overcome one strong man,” the chief said. “It sounds as if your people are cowards. At your age, there is no way you could be effective at making change. I can now understand why you were not feeling a strong sense of responsibility for your people. If I were you, I would not wish to return to that. What is SealEaters?”

  Plak was momentarily thrown off balance. He replied, “SealEaters are my people. Seal is the animal that we ate in our eastern sea crossing. They also come to rest on our beaches. We have little land. Our land is enclosed by mountains and ice. Beyond the mountains people are constantly at war. They fight over land. They fight over who can hunt on certain lands. The seals are reduced in number because they have become our primary food.”

  “We don’t know seals. Your land is the source of our rising sun. We shall call you Plak of the Rising Sun. You are welcome here as long as you desire. Should you choose to leave, talk to us. At this time you are too thin. We will put fat on your bones. We can help you go where you might wish in the future.”

  “I must speak,” Danumite, another native at the meeting, said briskly. “I was with Toa in our boat two moons ago. We had been visiting the Red Band people to the north with Arangawee and the others. We left to return home earlier than Arangawee who visited there at the same time. I saw this man at dawn with another man upon the eastern bluff. There seemed to be bad between them. The other man was much larger than this one. What has become of the other man?”

  The chief looked surprised and then looked at Plak carefully.

  Plak said, “The other man is a SealEater. We were both on the exploration together. We were childhood friends. His name is Torq. Torq was ready to return to the place where SealEaters are supposed to meet to return for the people to bring them here. I didn’t want to return there. He tried to make me feel guilty, telling me I had a responsibility to the SealEaters. I made no promises, and I certainly didn’t—oh, what’s the word? Arangawee?”

  Arangawee smiled. “The word you keep forgetting is volunteer.”

  “Thank you, Arangawee.”

  Plak turned his face to the chief. “What I wanted to say is I didn’t volunteer for the trip. No oaths were required. I was forced to make the crossing. After we explored more, I wanted to continue. I wanted to learn how to cross the big river to continue my exploration. There were thirteen people who came here to explore. There will be plenty of SealEaters to return to the Cove. They will bring people to this land. I saw no need for me to return. I lost a friend, because I did what he didn’t want me to do.”

  “Plak,” the chief said, “Do you feel badly that you lost a friend?”

  “Yes, of course. It hurts. I do believe he has a right to end our friendship. I would not cut off a friend because he believed something different, but a man is free to choose his friends and to terminate a friendship. He has done so.”

  “Plak,” the chief said, “He was not your friend. A friend does not insist you do what they want to remain your friend. Friendship is a free commitment for life. Otherwise it’s not friendship, it’s acquaintanceship. They are very different. Your friend chose not to be your friend. That was his choice, but it shows where his things of first importance lay. It lay in his control over you. Plak, do not let others control you, when you have any possibility of avoiding it. Your people have a problem with control. This man Reg has been allowed to control others for too long. Perhaps your friend learned wrong things from this man, this man who seems strong but is really a coward.”

  “Thank you,” Plak said to the chief. “I have to work this through my thinking place.”

  “I understand,” the chief replied. “Now, we eat,” he said.

  After they ate, Plak walked to the edge of the hill where the village bordered the river. The boats were neatly pulled up on the shore. The rosy glow of the now disappearing sun was making great rays through the clouds. Plak desired to cross that river and continue on. There was so much to see. He was sure there were wonders yet that would surpass anything he could dream. He heard what sounded like a small bird. He looked down over the ledge and saw Arangawee motioning to him and signing to be quiet. Plak was curious and followed the man. They walked to the river and waded into the water walking to a place that could not be seen from the village.

  “You wonder why I motioned for you to come?” Arangawee asked.

  “Yes,” Plak stated flatly.

  “Danumite, Toa, Shingamo
ana, Pelamutazona, and I went to visit the Red Band. There is unrest among our people. Atematemano, who is the Chief of the Red Band and also head of all the bands, whispered to us that Fusledge, Chief of the Green Band, has gathered the Yellow Band to try to overtake the authority of Atematemano. Then he plans to go after Piatne of the Blue Band. He wants to gather all of the bands into one, move them to the smooth mountains, and rule over all. It’s a bad plan.”

  “Can you not fight him?”

  “We can fight but some of the young men are drawn to Fusledge. He speaks big of himself, he tells how wonderful all will be when he is the One Leader. He never talks specifically, just in hints of how great life might be. Some of the older men also find him fascinating.”

  “How awful.”

  “Plak, it is a battle we will have soon. Pelamutazona shared this information with our chief. Piatne will not be pleased. Pelamutazona is loyal to our chief. I think the loyalty of Danumite and Toa has been lured by Fusledge. I want your help.”

  “What can I do?” Plak asked with interest.

  “Sometime in the next few days, mention your desire to see the great split land to the west. I will avoid you carefully until I hear you have asked. Then, I will propose that my two sons, my daughter, and my wife accompany you. My wife knows the way. I am certain that there will be no problem. The land is far to the west. My wife came from there. My children have always wished to see it. I want them gone, for we will have a war, and it will be soon. Only a few men know of the coming war, and I think a small number of our Blue Band will fight against us when the time comes. The great split land is far from here, way beyond our land and our control. You and they will be safe there. If Fusledge is successful in overtaking our village, I will escape to find you there. If there is no war, I will come for them in the season of the changing leaves. If my life is taken, her family will provide. My wife knows how to make the signs to lead me. My wife knows I ask this of you. The children do not. Speak of this to no one. Trust no one.”

  Plak looked at his feet. It was a great responsibility, but he liked Arangawee. “I’ll do it at the fire before we eat tomorrow. Until then, I’ll avoid you.”

  “Thank you, Plak. I now consider you a friend.”

  “I consider you a friend, Arangawee.”

  “Return the way you came. I’ll go back a different way.”

  Plak nodded and headed back to the village.

  On his way back Plak saw Pelamutazona. “Nice clear night, Pelamutazona,” he said.

  “Yes. I’ve seen some lights streak across the sky. I wonder if they are dying stars or spirits who have gone before us to the great land of death.”

  “My people wonder the same. One person long ago told my father that the lights are made from stones, and they have bubbly holes in them as if they’d boiled.”

  Pelamutazona laughed. “That’s a good one, Plak!” he laughed.

  “Supposedly he followed the light to a place where the grass was on fire, near where one landed. He showed my father the rock.”

  Pelamutazona was quiet. Then he laughed and turned away toward his home.

  Plak wondered at all he’d heard since he arrived there. The initial meeting with the chief was a good one. The Blue Band had seemed ideal, when he compared them to his people. Amazing, he thought, how things can appear one way while underneath they were so very different. It made him think of trees that appeared healthy outside, but inside there was open space where there was no life. Plak felt he had much to learn. He was not very good at being deceptive, but now the safety of four people depended on his being able to be convincing.

  The next night at the fire, Plak said, “Chief, I have thought. I have appreciated your welcome. The Blue Band is a good People. I must go on. I have heard that to the west there is a great land that is split and a river runs through it. I very much want to see this land. I have to cross the river to go there. Will you help me?”

  “This is a fortunate thing,” Arangawee spoke up before the chief could reply. “For many summers my wife has wanted me to take her to visit her people with the children. Not only could she lead Plak there, but also he could protect her and my children from harm during the travel. I have responsibilities here each year and have been unable to grant her wish. When the leaves turn, I will be able to join her for a visit and to accompany her and the children home.”

  The chief looked up, his eyes examining Arangawee’s face and body. The man appeared guileless. “This meets fully with your approval, Arangawee?” he asked.

  With full eye to eye gaze, Arangawee nodded.

  “Let it be as you say,” the chief replied. “Plak, you have your answer. You will take full responsibility for their safety?”

  “Yes, Chief,” he said solemnly.

  “Arangawee, gather some rowers, take the large boat to make the crossing, and try to make the crossings in less than a day.”

  Arangawee nodded and with much relief turned to make the preparations needed for the river crossing and for his family and Plak to have provisions for the trip. Plak gathered his backpack and spears.

  Pelamutazona ran over to Plak. “You are leaving, yet you just arrived. I wanted to learn to make spear points like yours. It appears I have waited too long.”

  Plak smiled at the man. “I’m not very good at it. I have a broken one that I planned to turn into a knife. Take this,” he said, pulling the point from his backpack. “Make the other end just like this. The point broke in the center as I was finishing it. It happens.”

  “Thank you,” Pelamutazona said looking at the half point in his hand. “I am very grateful.”

  “Be patient,” Plak said smiling, turning to walk to the shore with his things.

  Plak saw Arangawee beside a very large boat. He’d never seen that boat. Plak had already met Verra, Arangawee’s wife. Verra took his backpack and placed it securely in the boat. Plak went to Arangawee who introduced his second son, Snat. Snat was twelve. He was clearly excited at the thought of the visit to the split land. Arangawee introduced his first son, Grobulit. He was a little standoffish, but greeted Plak with due respect. Grobulit was fourteen. The girl who had been arranging things in the boat looked up. Arangawee introduced his daughter, Tanturto. Plak tried hard not to display his reaction. Tanturto was fifteen, beautiful, and appeared very kind. He wanted to wrap his arms around the girl and never let go. In his thinking place, he controlled himself to show no more interest in the girl than he had in Arangawee’s sons. The only one who noticed the signs of Plak’s attraction was Verra. She would stay alert.

  In addition to Arangawee, Pelamutazona, Shingamoana, Danumite, and Toa came to row. Plak would also row. Plak remembered that Arangawee had made it clear he had no trust in Danumite and Toa. He was careful to keep his silence. The men pushed the dugout into the river and the crossing began. The river was swift and powerful. Rowing against it was difficult. The strain of the rowers showed early into the crossing. There was little talking during the crossing. Keen concentration was required and all rowers knew that. At one point a huge tree trunk nearly rammed the dugout. Quick use of oars to push themselves away kept them from a collision and free of injury.

  Plak smiled to himself. Tanturto noticed the smile and wondered at it. Plak was thinking that having crossed the eastern sea made this crossing seem far easier than he’d thought possible. As he thought his muscles worked the oar in rhythm with the other rowers. Plak mused that the spirit of the river was not even near as strong as the spirit of the sea. He felt in some ways that the spirit of this big river could be reached by people for help and comfort in their needs, where the spirit of the great eastern sea remained utterly aloof in light of the needs and fears of humans. Plak asked the river spirit to use his spirit hand to block any collision that might occur on the river. At that moment the sun broke free of the cloud cover and shone on the boat. Plak felt he had an answer from the river spirit.

  After a relatively quick river crossing, the travelers said their farewells and
gathered their burdens and spears to begin the trek to the split land. The rowers returned to the dugout and began the crossing back to their home. Arangawee hoped that the war had not begun in their absence, but he felt an enormous sense of relief that whatever happened, his family would be safe. He waved to his wife who stood still watching him row away.

  “Let’s go,” Plak urged.

  Verra turned reluctantly from her river view to the western land.

  “See those trees in the far distance. They’re all grouped together. We go there,” Verra directed.

  Plak nodded to her. He certainly didn’t know where the great split land lay. They walked, moving swiftly. Verra led and Plak followed at the end. They reached the group of trees very quickly. They stopped to drink water at the creek.

  Plak had walked a bit downstream and was returning when Tanturto blocked his path. “I saw you smiling on the river crossing as if something amused you, Plak. What was it?”

  Plak tried to remember and finally he recalled, “I was thinking that the spirit of the river was not nearly as strong as the spirit of the eastern sea.”

  “Was the eastern sea crossing fear filling?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he replied. “The great wall of ice was horrible and great chunks would break off and begin to float in the sea. Only a tiny part of the ice is above water. If you were a great chunk of ice, your head might be above water and the rest would be under the water. It makes sailing very difficult. One boat kept snagging on the underwater ice. We had to beware of ice breaking off those great chunks. It was hard to steer among them. The worst was in storms when the wind blew making water feel like rocks hitting us, and the waves were so high you wouldn’t believe me if I told you how high. We feared the great ice chunks for they had no stability. They could crush us in an eye blink. The waves tossed the great chunks of ice about as if they were tiny pebbles. It was something I don’t want to repeat, but I’m glad I had the experience—now that it’s over. I admit that during the first big storm, I curled myself into a little ball and cried like a baby. I learned that fear and crying only wasted time, and they kept me from watching that we didn’t lose things to the storm or let the boat become so filled with water that we might sink.”