Manak-na's Story, 75,000 BC Read online

  “Spirit tree,” was Untuk’s response in the Mol language. Then he translated. The Mol had lived in this north land from the beginning of days. They knew the plants and animals. Only recently had they become sedentary, so none of these current Mol trekkers had ever been this far north on the path, but the plants were still familiar to them.

  Almost at the lowland, Amey slipped and slid down the path. Rocks gouged her legs and her ankle was twisted, but not severely sprained. It took a while for her to rise. The major concern was stopping the bleeding. She could walk with a limp. Likichi brought leather strips and the honey bladder. She smeared honey on the significant wounds and wrapped them with leather strips. When they reached their camp, she would clean and wrap them again. She was concerned that the honey was running low. Returning to her place in line, Likichi smiled at children she passed. She approved their behavior on this trek. They had been remarkably well behaved. Minagle and Sum-na’s ten-year-old daughter, Luga, and Meta, Aryna and Tongip-na’s daughter of the same age, had been given the responsibility for the dogs. They had done commendable jobs. Both Ki’ti and Minagle had watched the young girls handle the dogs and remembered a time when that job had been theirs on a different trek.

  The People reached the lowland and found a grove of oak trees on a little knoll about 200 hunter strides from the path, and they chose that as their campsite for the night. Hunters quickly scoured the immediate area for poisonous snakes and harmful spiders, while others went to the river bank to examine tracks that would tell them of animals in the area. The area appeared safe. The young girls showed the dogs to an area downwind, where they told the dogs to stay. They brought water and sticks of dried meat and fish for the dogs. They removed burdens from the dogs and set the animals free. The dogs would walk a short distance from their assigned place, but they wouldn’t stray.

  The season of colorful leaves was coming fast and the nights were chilly. Soon, Ki’ti thought, they would have to find a place to shelter during the season of cold days. She liked the lowland, which seemed a good place to avoid winds in the cold times. She would, however, unquestioningly defer to what she was shown by Kimseaka. Hunters left to hunt as soon as they established camp. Small groups went off in four directions. It was not long before two were back, each with a deer. The deer weren’t large, but the two animals would feed the group that night. Later, the other two groups would return with three more deer.

  At the men’s council, which took place this day before instead of after the evening meal, it was decided to camp a few days. Hopefully, by then, Amey would be walking better. They would replenish meat supplies, gather available plants, and rest before continuing on. It also gave Manak-na and Kai-na time to explore this new area. Before they could set forth on their expedition, the camp had to be established. It took time to set up the temporary lodging for so many people. The two hunters decided to go out the next morning early to explore the area.

  The number of the People was ninety-two, just over twice the number that left the caves in the ash for their northern cave twenty-five years earlier. There were, in addition, four Mol who had decided to join them at the last moment, when the People said their last farewells at the Mol cave before crossing the river to go north on the path the ancient Mol ancestors had made.

  After the evening meal, Tongip-na and Ermi-na walked back up the pathway to survey the evening sky. They were checking to see whether any hearth fires were visible in the vast lowland. Both had great vision and if a column of smoke rose, they’d see it. Only one point in the vast lowland showed smoke, and that was their camp. The hardwood trees still dense with leaves diffused theirs. Nevertheless, hunters knew how to spot smoke diffused or not. They walked a little higher on the path—even then, no smoke was observed rising anywhere else. Wordlessly, each looked at the face of the other. Where were the people? Their unspoken thoughts had more volume than if they’d been spoken. Still they waited. Perhaps a few hunters had come to the lowland. But even in the dark, no smoke other than theirs was visible in the sunless sky as far as they could see. They returned to camp.

  The People traveled as lightly as possible, so there were few skins or poles for lodges. Consequently, many lean-to shelters facing small fires in rock surrounds covered the knoll. The lean-tos were covered with branches, wood, and grasses, whatever it took from what was available to keep the area dry and provide a little warmth. Some were simply a slanted horizontal plane and others were enclosed at the edges. A few shelters were floored with pine boughs brought to cushion the sleeping places and provide insulation from the cold ground. Manak-na and Untuk provided those for their families and then gathered some for two sets of the elders: Grypchon-na and Likichi and Ermol-na and Flayk. Other younger men provided for the other elders. Not only were pine boughs pleasant for comfort but also the fragrance was balmlike. Some lean-tos were floored with grasses, and some very young men used no flooring whatever, sleeping only on skins. This was so very different from how they had lived all together in a single huge cave or single structure made of bent trees.

  Ki’ti sat on skins over pine branches. She needed rest. She unbraided and slowly combed through her long, light brown hair streaked with lighter lines from the sun. She noticed a few gray hairs among the brown. Her fine hair easily worked its way loose from braids, no matter how tightly she braided the strands. It annoyed her when even a light wind would blow hair in her face. She remembered having her hair cut short when they shared the cave with Minguat, because head lice were rampant. It was during the ashfall when she was very young. She considered having it cut again to keep it from her eyes. Ki’ti parted her hair down the center and braided it, tying the ends with narrow strips of leather that did not match.

  She surveyed the camp. It was good. She looked down and there, with a question on his face, was a pup from one of the last litters. He was the smallest. He could hardly carry any burden. She smiled at him and he climbed into the sling her tunic made as she sat with crossed legs. No dog had claimed the place of her last dog. She had really missed having a dog. Was she, Ki’ti wondered, gaining a new dog? She didn’t have to wait long. She looked down and again two brownish eyes looked into her blue ones. She put her hand on the pup’s head. Tiriku, she mused, very tiny wolf. Ti, a word used infrequently, meant a single grain of sand. Riku was the word for wolf. Again a dog had chosen to be with her. Silently she thanked Wisdom. She stroked Tiriku. He looked just like her first dog, Ahriku, who came to her in her childhood in the same manner as had this dog. Tiriku, however, was far smaller than Ahriku had been when he came at about the same age. No People had the same close relationship with an animal that Ki’ti had, though a few had wondered when Ki’ti would have another. Now they would know.

  Wisdom was beginning to suck color from the lowland behind the mountains. Song, Minagle’s oldest daughter and second child of Minagle’s first husband, Ghanya, stood outside the oaken canopy and gazed at the stars above. In the chill she hugged herself with her hands on her shoulders. Suddenly she felt large hands cover her smaller ones.

  “Such a big sky, is it not?” Humko asked, breathing the natural scent of her.

  “It is so,” she replied.

  His arms surrounded her and they star gazed together, speaking little the sweet words they had for each other while the sides of their faces touched. Humko became rigid and whispered urgently, “Don’t move!”

  Song fully opened her dreamy eyes to discover she was looking at the face of a huge hooded serpent. She froze. Without Humko, she might have fled and been struck by the snake. His strong hands steadied her.

  “Keep your eyes shut,” he cautioned her, not knowing whether the cobra was a spitter, and then he whistled the HELP—SNAKE signal and hunters came running as light-footed as possible. Two hunters turned and ran to pick up snake sticks.

  From years of experience with snakes, the hunters got between Song and the cobra. They distracted it from Song and carefully moved it away with the snake sticks. Rather than have to w
onder about the location of the snake if they freed it, they chose to kill it. They cut off the cobra’s head. Hunters buried the head far from the dogs, covering it with a heavy rock. They took severed pieces of the snake’s body to ring the camp to warn other snakes to keep out.

  At the first hint of light in the sky, Manak-na and Kai-na left to explore. They headed in a northwest direction following the path, which quickly was lost to sight. They tried to guess its location among the areas that were free of trees, but that covered too much space. They established their own landmarks and began serious exploration. They planned to sweep the area in expanding arcs to find the path, while taking the time to savor the differences in this environment. They were wise hunters, but they also had a bit of youthful exuberance in the freedom of exploration, a joy of discovery inherent to both of them. It gave lightness to their steps, clarity of vision, and an openness to see things not in their previously learned experience.

  When Wisdom returned color to the land, young hunters teased Humko mercilessly about using Song for a shield against the cobra and waiting for others to kill it. They’d seen him standing behind her. They knew their words were false, but they made sport of Humko, and they laughed at the young man who blushed and didn’t know how to respond. Ki’ti overheard and immediately gathered a large number of hunters by name. Even those not called were interested. She had the attention of all who were within earshot of her call, while the uncalled listened trying to appear busy with something else. A change in routine excited their curiosity.

  Ki’ti was agitated. She asked the young hunters which of them had dispatched the cobra. All hung their heads. She asked again, “Who killed the cobra?”

  Bun, who had been teasing Humko replied, “It was my uncle, Ekuktu-na.”

  “And why wasn’t it you?” she asked looking at Bun. “Or you?” she asked, looking at Cam and Mhank and Patah.

  Cam looked at her and said quietly, “I am afraid of snakes. I don’t know why I fear them, even the non-poisonous ones, but I do.”

  Ki’ti looked out over the group of hunters. She stood as straight and tall as she could. “It is not good for hunters to tease one another—to pretend somehow that one is better than another. Our way has always been one of humility, one of seeking the good for all, not one. Remember the lesson Sum-na brought with him when he left the ruined Minguat sea-coast camp to become People? The Minguat hunters postured and talked of their prowess, but the bigger the talkers the quicker they fell to weapons of the coastal Minguat. They died at the hands of Minguat, not People, not Mol. Minguat fought Minguat. Think of the wasted lives such fighting brought. Pride undid them. And it starts with little seeds of teasing where one erroneously feels elevated at the undoing of another. That leads to the posturing and bragging about one’s own ability or potential over another. Remember the essence of Sum-na’s story. It avails one nothing to compare himself with another person. Instead, it takes People a great distance from truth. That makes them vulnerable.”

  She paused and looked at the ground. She was greatly conflicted. Their way was not direct teaching, but she could not stop herself. She looked up and continued. “You think you’re smart; you think you’re strong; you think you’d be victorious in battle? Let me make this clear. Each of us came from the dirt of the ground, handmade by Wisdom. Do not forget that your lives are governed by Wisdom, not by your imagined thoughts. None of us stands or walks upon this land except by the unmerited favor of Wisdom. You think your efforts make you strong? Remember Kai-na’s accident. He was one of the stronger young men then. He lived and lives in Wisdom’s hand. All his exercise and hard work practicing did not prevent the accident when his leg was broken. For much time he was unable to walk. He had to depend on others. Then Wisdom gave him back his leg. He’s strong enough now to explore with Manak-na. They went out before Wisdom restored color to the land. Now, you must remember each of us is vulnerable.” She looked each one in the eye slowly before continuing. “We reside in the hand of Wisdom. When we get puffed up, we leave the hand of Wisdom and then are very, very vulnerable. Like the Minguat who lived without Wisdom.”

  “We may work hard to learn to use slingshots and spears, but we have no success without Wisdom. Wisdom makes us and governs us not because we deserve it, but rather because Wisdom chooses to favor us. Wisdom can change our circumstances in the blink of an eye. Remember the story of Maknu-na and Rimlad? They lived, but what of their People? Their People seriously offended Wisdom and in an instant they were all gone. And that doesn’t mean that Kai-na did something Wisdom didn’t like. Sometimes Wisdom chooses to let misfortune befall one who has done nothing wrong at all to discover how others will respond. You could say that Wisdom tests us individually and as we treat others.”

  She looked at Nanichak-na. “Yesterday, I talked with Nanichak-na. When he felt the presence of Kimseaka, a spirit messenger from Wisdom, he told me he’d rather deal with,” she showed two full hands of fingers twice, “enemy warriors alone than the presence of one from the world of the spirit of Wisdom. Is he a timid hunter?” she asked.

  All said, “No!” There were a few palm strikes. Everyone knew Nanichak-na was one of their best and bravest hunters, even at his age.

  “Nanichak-na knows that fear of Wisdom is the beginning of right reasoning and understanding. Nanichak-na has felt the presence of one sent by Wisdom. Have you?”

  She waited while they responded negatively.

  “Just because you haven’t felt the world of the spirit of Wisdom, does that mean that world doesn’t exist?”

  They gave negative responses. Ki’ti’s agitation had not subsided. Instead it made her focus sharper and she could not contain the flood of knowledge she felt these young people should know.

  Then she said, “That word Wisdom is used by us as another name for the One Who Made Us: the uncommon, unusable, separate name we speak not often and with great care. We do that so pride won’t grow in us from having been made by the hands of Wisdom, unlike all else that was made by Wisdom’s speaking it into being. Like it or not, Wisdom made us and Wisdom rules us. Because we follow Wisdom, we have lived since the beginning of days—and will continue. If we lose Wisdom, we die as surely as did the Others by the sea.”

  The hunters were spellbound. Never had they heard so much at one time from their Wise One when she told the stories in the season of cold days. Their mind webs were capturing every word. This time, they didn’t have to figure it out from the stories. The Wise One was making it plain. Many now understood Wisdom far better than they ever had. They understood better their own places in relation to Wisdom. Many found answers to questions they’d had but didn’t know how to ask. The former Minguat and Mol gained much understanding, understanding that they hadn’t realized they were missing.

  Ki’ti continued with force. “Teasing will cease among the People. Think before you act. Remember, though, that all among us, from the oldest to the youngest, male and female, original People, former Minguat, former Mol—all of us now People—are, in the eyes of Wisdom, nothing special on our own account, just Wisdom’s creations. Wisdom thinks no more of one of us than another. Do not think I am special because I represent Wisdom. I am simply used by Wisdom. Some of you may remember well how hard that was to achieve.” She sighed remembering.

  There were some gentle laughs from the older People, some of whom had gathered to listen on the fringes of the meeting to this new teaching. Grypchon-na and Mootmu-na both struck their left hands with their right fists, making a sound. Nanichak-na raised his large eyebrows listening to the sound of the palm strikes. The Winds of Change left so many differences. He felt old. None were older than he. Being the oldest is a lonesome place, he mused.

  Ki’ti continued. “All of us are equal. None better, none worse. If you cease to believe that truth, you believe a lie you have created. Never forget we are equal in Wisdom’s eyes and in our own. We must remember to keep it so. Finally, would you want to be teased?”

  The assembled
People indicated they didn’t want to be teased.

  “Then,” she continued, “Don’t tease anyone else. If you don’t want it done to you, then don’t do it to anyone else. Consider. Last night Humko held Song very still in the face of the snake so that she would not move and get struck. His bravery filled both of them. It was extraordinary quick thinking! Could you have thought that well? He reminded her to close her eyes in case the snake spit. Would you have remembered? Or would you have run in fear, leaving your special one to fend for herself?” She paused. “That is all I have to say,” she said following her words with a palm strike.

  For a few moments the assembly froze. The Wise One had spent time teaching directly, something different from the teaching through stories or through demonstration where the younger were to observe and figure out the lesson. Like the path that had disappeared in a landslide, they had moved off Wisdom’s path. The Wise One yanked them back by teaching directly. Teasing would cease for the present. Very slowly the group broke apart to get back to the day’s activity. Glances and nods were exchanged among Nanichak-na, Mootmu-na, Ermol-na, Grypchon-na, and Ki’ti. The men’s council that night would hold a surprise.

  Yomuk ran to the hunters to share his discovery, but waited patiently and marked well the words his mother was speaking. When the group broke up he found Grypchon-na and Mootmu-na talking together.

  As soon as they recognized him, Yomuk said, “I have found bees. I know our honey bladder is nearly empty. I looked carefully for bees. I found some and located their hive.”

  The older men were astonished. Yomuk at age ten was young to be demonstrating such responsibility and foresight. They agreed to gather supplies and to harvest the honey and wax with the boy.