With a two-legged lunge SkippingRock barreled into SunAndBear’s shoulder, knocking the smaller boy flat on his back. SunAndBear’s head smacked against the frozen hillside. His fur-covered garments, encrusted with snow and pine needles, were damp with sweat. He threw his arms around his older brother’s ribs, and shoved him to one side. Rolling on top, SunAndBear pinned SkippingRock with forearms against collarbone, knees on top of arms. SkippingRock struggled, and tried to buck SunAndBear off, but he was too heavy to budge. SunAndBear let out a whoop and a chuckle.
The boys separated. SkippingRock rubbed his chest where his sibling’s elbows had pressed deep into the muscle. SunAndBear gingerly felt behind his head, wincing when his fingers pressed on the point at the rear. Then it was SkippingRock’s turn to laugh, a breathy rasp that was followed by SunAndBear’s toothy smile. This time, there were no permanent injuries to either teenage clansmen. Earlier in the year, SunAndBear’s thigh bone had been cracked by a particularly hard dropkick from his playmate. The limp lasted for weeks. His herb gathering duties had been passed to SkippingRock as punishment.
From the valley floor, their mother’s hooting call echoed through the grove of evergreens. Time to head back to camp. The troop was preparing to travel towards the warmer regions of the south, where the brothers looked forward to once again eating the sweet root vegetables that used to grow around the valley. Meals filled with seeds and nuts had come to disgust them. Larger game was more available in the southern lands, too. The thought of seared bison meat, dripping with fat, always made SunAndBear’s mouth water. He was tired of the stringy fare from small game in these wooded highlands. While he licked at the purple berry stains on his fingers, SkippingRock picked up an animal-skin bag loaded with dry branches and pine cones.
As they headed down the slope, SunAndBear sniffed at the ashy odor wafting up from the tribe’s recently extinguished fire. Soon SkippingRock spotted LooksAtTrees near the fire pit, scooping up ash and placing into a small pouch. She turned at the crackle of ice-covered grass. With gentle cooing, she nuzzled up against his neck, tracing her forefinger along his cheek and nose, leaving gray smudges across his face. She giggled. He gently pushed her away, and wiped the soot off.
When JumpsInRiver saw their antics, she barked a harsh command at SkippingRock. He sobered quickly. She waved her arm in an arc towards her son’s next chore. Now was not the time for foolishness. The serious business of a long trek was at hand, and they couldn’t afford to waste any daylight.
LooksAtTrees brushed some of the pine needles from SkippingRock’s clothing before he headed off, and glanced over to the newest member of the group. LittleMoon crouched next to the smoldering pit, carefully placing small rocks into a bag. These stones held magic from the spirit of fire. It would be bad luck to leave them all behind. She tied the bag shut with a loop of coarse twine.
She had come from a group of tall southerners, recent interlopers to this area. Thinner than the northern women, they had oddly shaped faces. SkippingRock thought they looked weak and fragile, but SunAndBear was attracted by the way LittleMoon moved with the grace of a doe. He admired her skill at running long distances. They weren’t a couple yet, but he was sure the elders would grant his wish when the time came. After all, it had been his father’s last decree that she be accepted into the clan.
The young tribesman approached her, and reached out to help her carry the precious cargo. She pulled back, knowing well that it was an honor to be given such an important duty, and that she needed to prove her worth to stay with the troop. He picked up a bulging bag of firewood, and slung it over his back. Most of the tribe’s thirty members were already heading out. Adult men carried stone-tipped spears, while others hauled sacks of supplies: dried foods, salt, and healing herbs. Only one brought the bags of soft clay and chalky pigments. These were rare items, so the woman entrusted with the ceremonial supplies stayed in a protective spot at the center of the nomadic band.
From the far side of the camp, JumpsInRiver let out a shrill whistle that got everyone’s attention. At the same time, she raised her arm, twirling it in a wide circle. SunAndBear looked at LittleMoon. He motioned towards the far end of the valley. This was the destination for the day. She smiled, and they proceeded to catch up with their travelling companions.
***
Black walls of musk-scented hair blocked his view to the left and right. SunAndBear ran at full speed, barely able to keep up with the herd of auroch. It was only their sheer number, and the rising sides of the valley, that kept them from pulling away from him. Stripped to a pelt tied around his waist, the thickly muscled clansman had continued the hunt well past the point of necessity, just for the exhilaration of the chase. A single stumble could spell severe injury or worse, but in his reverie he imagined himself as one with the creatures. He fell into sync with the thunderous pulse of their strides.
Gradually, his pace slackened, allowing the herd to pull ahead. Scanning the stragglers at the rear of the stampede, he picked out a healthy looking cow who had fallen behind. He weaved closer. Just as her eye pivoted in his direction, the boy threw himself over the top of the panicked animal, the weight of his body toppling her to the snowy ground. They hit hard, but the fall was cushioned by a white blanket of winter. A sharp twist to the heifer’s head brought the rapid puffs of icy breath from her nostrils to a sudden end.
SunAndBear gouged out the eyes, and swallowed them whole. In this way, he allowed her life to continue within him. In turn, he became imbued with some of the strength and solemnity of these proud beasts. Without this show of respect, his actions would bring misfortune to his people. His face turned skyward. A high-pitched warble of joy escaped his lips, resounding across the valley floor.
SkippingRock came up from behind, and eased to a walk as he peered at the receding dark shapes. Limestone bolas hung from one hand, but the eldest son of JumpsInRiver had not been able to make a kill this time. The herd had been too tightly packed for him to swing his weapon effectively.
From farther down the valley, a small boy and girl approached, hopping along in the tracks left by the herd. They brought tools, and were eager to learn the butchering methods so that they could one day join the hunt.
SunAndBear first removed a long, pointed stone from the bag. Crouching next to the abdomen, he sliced along the gut, exposing the entrails. They steamed in the cool morning air. He continued up along the inside of the legs, and sheared off the large flap of flesh over the rib cage. There was little meat here, but the skin would be scraped clean and used for clothing. Moving around back, he used a serrated blade to saw through the neck. The animal’s head fell to the ground. Next, he chopped off the hump between the shoulders with an axe-shaped stone. He continued removing flesh: brisket, loin, and hind quarters.
He motioned to the boy and girl to carry the head back to camp. Bovine brains would be a tasty treat. The skull would be boiled to loosen and remove the small horns. SunAndBear gathered pieces of meat into an empty bag. His brother picked up the skin, and threw it over his shoulder. On their way back, they passed several others who were headed towards the kill. They would gather the remaining useful parts of the carcass. Nothing would be wasted: organs to be eaten, bones for marrow and weapons, and hooves to be ground to powder.
When SunAndBear walked into camp, he was greeted by LittleMoon, mirroring his movements and walking in stride. She kept her face forward, but peered at him from the corner of her eye. Slowly, she began humming a repeating refrain that built in volume until others took notice. SunAndBear beamed. Her recognition of his achievement meant she had accepted him as a potential partner. Several other women joined in. The rhythm of the chorus inspired children to lock arms, and dance in a circle around the young hunter. SkippingRock had stopped just at the edge of camp. He straightened his back. Today his little brother was becoming a man.
JumpsInRiver met her youngest son at the fire pit, just as he dropped his bag next to the large stones. She expressed pride for her son’s accomplishment through a set of short, clipped chirps, while holding his face in her hands. He pulled away, slightly embarrassed, and continued on to his other duties. His wide grin let her know how much her attention meant to him. She began lighting the firewood in preparation for tonight’s feast.
The celebration lasted most of the night. Succulent vegetables fried in beef juices, simmering on concave stones that rested in glowing embers. The tastiest beetles had been gathered by the children. They gleefully tossed them into the mix. The clanspeople gorged themselves.
RedLikeFox, one of the elder women, began weaving her body back and forth next to the pit. Her arms and hands graphically relayed a story that had been passed down by her mother, and her mother before. At dramatic moments, she added sound effects, or a simple melody as background. A gourd filled with fermented berry juice was passed around. They drank into the night. SunAndBear lay on his back, imagining the day when he would again be at his father’s side, laughing and eating good food around one of the campfires in the sky.
***
RedLikeFox scooped the last bit of thick, yellow paste out of the turtle shell, and applied it around LittleMoon’s neck. The young woman’s face was already caked with a soupy mix of river mud, ochre, and powdered animal bone. Her dark skin only peeked out around the mouth and the corners of the eyes. Next, the elder shaman placed a necklace of opals and shiny shells over the girl’s head, carefully arranging them on her shoulders and down her chest. The green glints of the stones, and violet sheen from the shells, reflected on the drying layer of makeup. RedLikeFox pulled a handful of black and white spotted grouse feathers from her satchel, and decorated LittleMoon’s hair.
They exited the lean-to. A line of half a dozen elder men stood to one side. They began a chorus of low, sustained notes thrummed to a steady beat, measured out by hardened reeds slapped against stretched skin drums. A female choir stood facing the men. The tenors shook hollowed-out gourds filled with dried seeds. In between the two lines, three large stones were stacked vertically, representing birth, life, and afterlife.
SunAndBear emerged from a lean-to opposite LittleMoon’s, escorted by ScaredOfElk, the oldest male member of the clan. SunAndBear’s shoulders were wrapped in a supple coat of deep brown, taken from his most recent kill. His forehead and cheeks were covered in solid circles of red and black. A thick rope of long grasses, wrapped over one shoulder and under the other arm, was garnished with claws and fangs from all his large game hunts.
SunAndBear and LittleMoon walked forward, stopping on opposite sides of the stones. RedLikeFox brought out a small soapstone sculpture, carved in the shape of a bird, and placed it on the top stone. She circled around the pair as the music grew more intense. SunAndBear and LittleMoon grasped each other’s wrists on either side of the mound, and circled in the opposite direction. RedLikeFox uttered the chant that transferred the power of the pylon to the young couple. Rattles and drums fell silent.
Now the couple were forever linked, and would take their place in the stream of the world story, part of the continuing dance between clan and Nature.
***
A flute-like trill enticed the lark from its nesting place in the bushes. The rustle was the only sound this deep into the grove of pines, until a faint whisper parted the air. Then, with a light thud, the bird lay on the ground, pierced by a needle-thin shaft of thistle.
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BarkingWolf rose from his hiding spot. Clan members rarely hunted alone, but as an elder he was allowed the freedom to do so. With no children of his own, and being too old to care about such things anymore, he had skipped the couple’s ceremony to pursue one of the few passions he had left.
He picked up the still warm body and tossed it into a sack. The bag was nearly full, so he stuck the remainder of his small weapons, along with the hollow stem he used as a blowpipe, into a pouch. Commotion from the celebration after the bonding ritual had died down, making it a good time to head back to camp. The day wouldn’t last much longer, and he knew better than to be out alone after sunset.
A crackling from the forest floor drew his attention, just as a pungent odor sparked his senses. He froze, but it was too late. The young lioness stood nearly chest high, a bushy tuft of mane erupting from between shoulder blades. Before he could react, she leapt, but he was still spry enough to dodge her first attack. Rolling to the ground, and shedding everything he carried, his well-rehearsed escape attempt nearly succeeded. But the inexperience of his assailant was more than compensated for by her sheer speed, and he fell under her paws, aware that this hunt was surely his last.
The revelers had begun to disperse, and head to their shelters, when a shriek tore from the woods. Several men of hunting age grabbed a handy spear, and jogged towards the source of the cry. They spread left and right, flanking the area. One of them spotted the feline. He let out a shout. She raised up at the noise, her bared teeth slowing the group’s approach. Tightening ranks, they brandished their weapons, and created a ruckus of hoots and hollers. The cat hesitated at first, but the horde was enough to convince her to retreat. She backed warily into the brush before darting into shadow.
BarkingWolf lay face-down. Twigs and pine needles were massed in a red-stained clump to one side. His right arm rested against a conifer trunk some ways away. The men carefully turned his body over. One put his ear to BarkingWolf's chest. Seconds later, he raised up, and gave out a pleased chortle, repeatedly smacking a fist against the palm of his hand. Mutterings of relief came from the others. They applied pressure to BarkingWolf's wound, and carried him back to camp.
***
For two weeks, the clan continued their journey south. The valley grew wider, until they arrived at its mouth. An unknown land stretched beyond. Gray tundra was replaced by the greens and browns of the grassy lower steppes.
ScaredOfElk walked next to BarkingWolf. They’d been close friends ever since ScaredOfElk had joined the group as a young boy. BarkingWolf held a spear in one hand, but it was for show only. His good arm was gone, and he was unable to learn how to throw with the other. The salve that RedLikeFox had applied to his wound had let it heal nicely, after several days of infection and delirium. It had been difficult for him to communicate to the others about his time in that spirit world, but he managed as best he could by drawing on the back of sheaves of bark. His story would become part of the lore to be passed down to new generations. For now, he could only hope to keep up with the group's progress in his weakened state. He spent most of his time reminiscing about past glories.
JumpsInRiver announced that a southern clan had been spotted by a scout. Eager members of the troop picked up their pace, leaving BarkingWolf and ScaredOfElk trailing behind. SkippingRock and SunAndBear looked back. The brothers wordlessly agreed to accompany the elder men while the rest of the pack pulled ahead. They both missed the talks they used to have with their father. Maybe they could learn a thing or two from the shared wisdom of these most experienced of hunters.
***
LooksAtTrees sat with one of SkippingRock's fur coats over her knee, mending it with a cactus-spine needle, and a thick thread of sinew. The needle had been a trade item from a southern party several years ago. She finished repairing the garment, and took it to SkippingRock. He thanked her with a smile and a light stroking of her forearm. The days were warm enough now that he no longer needed to wear an extra layer of clothing, but he wanted to use it for bargaining with the southerners.
Through messages carried by scouts, it had been agreed that the meeting would take place just after daybreak, on a mound that rose gently along a narrow creek nearby. At the signal from JumpsInRiver, her family headed out. She led the way, followed by her sons and their wives. Two elder men, and two elder women, brought up the rear. The grouping represented solidity; a strong heritage that had always brought good fortune in the past.
While they waited by the creek, SunAndBear became mesmerized by large, orange carp lazily swimming close to shore. They were a type he hadn’t seen before. He squatted on the bank, swirling the water with a stick. They reacted calmly to the intrusion. He decided he would return later, and try to catch a few.
With the warmer weather came rain. A shower began just before the southerners arrived. Their gray silhouettes grew out of the mist, until they stood on the far side of the creek. All ten were men, with slighter builds, darker hair, and smaller heads than SunAndBear’s people. Most were taller. Their clothes were simple, but stitched together with detailed craftsmanship.
JumpsInRiver approached the shore. She raised both arms slowly, hands spread wide. The tallest of the southern clan came nearer, arms stretched left and right, palms empty. JumpsInRiver waded into the shallow water. Another southerner drew up from behind their leader, a leaf-bound package in his hand.
He pulled back the thick, spongy fronds. Lying inside were chunks of a light colored meat, charred around the edges. He held one up for JumpsInRiver. She took the offering, and cautiously gave it a thorough sniff. The scent was unfamiliar, but enticing. She popped it into her mouth. Turning back to her group, she grinned while munching, and motioned them forward.
Both groups entered the stream's waters. The southern group passed around more samples of meat. SkippingRock took a cautious bite. He grimaced and spit it out, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. SunAndBear thought it tasted like boar, with a more intense flavor. His people offered to make a trade of woolly mammoth flesh, and the deal was made.
Spear points and shafts were brought into view by the southerners. The thin, precisely hewed stones were made with numerous small chippings along the edges. When SkippingRock saw the offerings, he began to laugh. He picked up one of the spear shafts and broke it, then threw the pieces to the ground. JumpsInRiver shot him a withering glare. He turned his back to her.
The southern group then showed off delicate deer antlers, etched with spidery designs, and splashed with blue and yellow paint. JumpsInRiver's people eagerly gathered round while the southerners demonstrated their method of using a hard-fired, sharp-tipped stone to dig the patterns. The handiwork was traded for a pair of broad antlers from a giant elk.
This day's meeting was soon over, but everyone agreed there was more to be shared between each culture. They made plans to meet again.
***
SkippingRock lay prone against the upper rise of a rocky knoll. Three other men were spread on the ground behind. A slice of new crescent moon provided just enough light to make out the thatch huts at the bottom of the far slope. The four had approached at dusk, from downwind, and stayed motionless until the village fire was extinguished, and the residents retired.
His disdain for the strange ways of the southerners had led SkippingRock to form his own small clan. For several weeks their unsuccessful attempts at gaining new members had caused a rapid decline in supplies. Hunger and frustration led to desperation.
The rookie leader arced his arms widely towards the goal. They all raised to a crouch, and fanned out with quick, small steps. Spear shafts grazed along the grass-tops. At the bottom of the hill, the waft of a recently cooked meal led them to the nearest hut. With his spear-tip, SkippingRock silently moved aside the woven mat hanging across the doorway. From inside, he heard the soft breaths of a sleeping couple. His cohorts stood guard while he quietly filled a pouch with dried meat, melon rinds, and hazelnuts.
He was ravenous for more, and stayed too long rummaging through the belongings. The woman woke and gave out a yelp. SkippingRock braced against the wall, trying to slide out the entrance, but the man came to, and grabbed at SkippingRock’s legs. The northern intruder jabbed his spear in the air between them. A bevelled edge cut deep into the southerner's wrist. The man cried out, and the couple pulled away, allowing SkippingRock to make his escape. His unsuccessful band of thieves disappeared into the dark, while shouts rose from the other huts.
***
As his people developed a closer relationship with the southerners, SunAndBear had grown confident that he and LittleMoon would find a place with them where they could raise a family. LittleMoon had already found a female friend who shared her daily chores. SunAndBear was becoming popular for his skills and strength that helped bring down large game.
But his brother had never brought good luck to the clan. This time, the results of his poor judgement arrived in the form of an angry group of southerners entering the camp. They carried the body of one of their own, pale and flaccid, and surrounded SunAndBear, yelling and vigorously shaking weapons. It didn't take long for him to surmise the cause of the tragedy, and why he was being held accountable.
He managed to quell the uproar by holding both arms in front, bent up with open palms facing back, then drawing elbows to the side, until his fingertips rested near his ears. SunAndBear communicated that he was willing to listen to their plight. He agreed to leave with them in order to help track down SkippingRock, and walked as calmly as he could to the middle of the pack.
The southerners took him to the sight of the killing. Lingering odors, and slight disturbances in grass, dirt, and leaves remained behind. The fugitives would not be difficult to follow. He took the lead in the hunting party.
Two days later, they found SkippingRock alone. He was slumped against the trunk of an aged poplar, in the grove that ran along the riverbank where his people had first encountered the southerners. His dirt-covered clothes stood out sharply against the gray bark. Weak from running, and eating little since that disastrous night, he took little notice of the group.
The agitated southerners stepped forward, but SunAndBear waved them back. He stooped to help SkippingRock up, but halted when they locked gazes. He’d never seen fear on his older brother’s face, at least not the stark look that haunted it now. They both knew the punishment for a tribesman's death at the hands of another, even one from an outsider group. He pulled his larger sibling off the ground, propped most of his weight on his shoulder, and half-carried him back to their camp.
***
Naked and curled into a fetal position, SkippingRock rested on a bed of wet grasses, immobile but still breathing. Several children, along with his wife, mother, and sister-in-law, had knelt to the ground close around him, their thighs pushed up against the sheaves. They were surrounded by men standing shoulder to shoulder, making two concentric circles of mourners.
SunAndBear squatted at his head, gently stroking his brother's face. The women and children rubbed a poultice of tallow, mixed with lye from boiled wood ash, onto SkippingRock's arms, legs, and torso. The men then laid large, heated otter skins over his body, warm enough for steam to rise from the moist grain. SkippingRock didn't move. Before the ceremony began, RedLikeFox had given the onlookers a drink made from the juice of crushed poppy seeds. She added a potent amount of scorpion venom to the concoction before SkippingRock swallowed the rest.
Together, the entire gathering roamed a world of strong magic. The men began humming deep, pulsing refrains, while the women and children held onto tremulous higher notes. Occasionally, two or three would cry out in anguish, before rejoining the chorus. They accompanied SkippingRock on his way to the sky spirits, who would deliver the hunter into the welcoming arms of his ancestors. The ritual of transference continued through the night, until daybreak pulled his entourage back to the embrace of living family.
***
His burial, just inside the mouth of a cave, was matter-of-fact compared to the previous day's ceremony. A lifeless body contained no magic, but its spirit could return, so SunAndBear, LittleMoon, JumpsInRiver, and LooksAtTrees carefully placed SkippingRock's personal items around it the shallow grave. Then they pushed in dirt and rock until it was filled. RedLikeFox scattered hibiscus petals over the top, and spoke a short chant. They all backed solemnly away. In order to avoid disturbing the sacred mound, and possibly confusing the returning soul, they would never come here again.
***
SunAndBear shuffled along the ground on all fours, carrying two children on his back. His daughter clutched her legs around his neck, while his son rode atop on his knees. They giggled whenever their father tried to playfully buck them off. He suddenly dropped to his belly, giving them a little jolt. They squealed, and pulled at his clothes to roll him over. He hugged them tight around the waist, raised to his feet, and started spinning faster and faster. The girl shrieked with laughter, while the boy buried his head in SunAndBear's chest.
Eventually the needs of daily life compelled him to end their fun, and SunAndBear plopped them both down. They darted towards LittleMoon. She brushed off their dusty clothes, but her smile let her husband know he was not in trouble from the horseplay.
He grabbed a sack of supplies off a rock, and jogged to the other side of the camp, stopping just at its edge. His loud whistle got the clan's attention. With the addition of a dozen southerners, the group had grown to over forty members since his mother’s passing. SunAndBear was glad to have the mix of new skills and knowledge, together with added stories of experience, that would be required for survival in this new homeland.
Raising his spear, he pointed towards a mountain in the east. Winter was coming. They would need to find shelter on drier slopes, above the deep snow drifts. The clan headed out, assured that those still near in their thoughts would forever travel with them.