* * *
Three young females foraged together, eating the nutritious greens that flourished between the end of the rainy season and the beginning of the dry. Lilith and Urta had been friends since infancy and Urta’s younger sister, Fyra, trailed after them. Lilith hummed and rocked while she ate, a sure sign of her contentment. None of them noticed Juzo’s stealthy approach.
Lilith noticed him first and stopped humming. She uttered a warning grunt and sidled away. Juzo made a wheedling gesture as if begging and Lilith realized with dismay that his attention fixed on her, that he wanted her to go with him. Juzo had a reputation for bullying and taking whatever he wanted. She shook her head in denial and shifted a few yards away to forage beside Huda. She huddled against him, shivering. He glanced down at her, startled, then noticed Juzo watching and scowling, and he realized she had come to him for protection.
For so many years Huda’s focus had remained entirely on learning and remembering as much information he could absorb. Now, with Moema gone and his status suddenly boosted, he began to take notice of the young women. But he had never expected one to just choose him without any effort on his part. He felt uncertain whether this was a good thing or not. If Juzo wanted Lilith, any interference on his part could initiate hostilities and end the peaceful life he valued. But then Lilith began to hum, musical and soothing, and suddenly he felt enchanted and determined to protect her whatever the cost. Whether she chose to mate with him or not, he would let no one harm her. Especially not Juzo.
* * *
The clan spread out through the belt of brush that separated the shore of the inland sea from the edge of the savannah. Most of the young ate immediately whatever they found, but the older and wiser saved much of what they foraged in crudely woven grass carry sacks to share later. They had learned that this sharing provided a more varied diet, a more even distribution of resources and a stronger, healthier community.
Huda’s head and shoulders remained obscured by bushes as he bent over, digging up roots, when Reff hurried over, excited. “Huda, look!” he cried, pointing. In the distant sky a kettle of vultures swirled, a sure sign something lay dead or dying.
Huda grunted in appreciation. Already he could imagine the taste of meat. After thousands of generations living on a protein-rich seafood diet, the Tribe had developed a craving for animal protein but had little aptitude for hunting the fleet-footed prey animals of the savannah. The carrion left by large predators became their best source of meat in any quantity. But scavenging brought them into conflict with larger, better-equipped scavengers and dangerous predators defending their kills.
Huda followed Reff as they trotted to join the group gathering to make the journey. Only after they started off, loping southeast through the long grass, did Huda notice uneasily that his companion group consisted of Juzo and three of his closest allies. They travelled quickly, hoping to arrive before scavengers stripped the carcass. As they continued, Huda began to recognize landmarks from Moema’s stories and he realized they travelled in the direction of the Adham pit, the most external of the Mother’s wombs, the source of her moon-blood. He hoped he might get the chance to see this special place.
Luck remained with them for, instead of finding a picked-over skeleton, they found an almost-intact makapania calf killed by a megantereon, a long-toothed leopard, then dragged into the crotch of a tree to escape a pack of hyenas whose tracks surrounded the site. The megantereon had eaten quickly then left the remains in the tree, likely planning to return to it later. The hyenas, unable to climb, had given up and moved on. The four men chased a dozen vultures out of the tree and settled to enjoy a meal themselves before carrying the remains back for the clan.
With his belly full, Huda climbed the ridge to see the landscape beyond. He knew they must be close to the Adham pit; he could smell the metallic scent of the Mother’s menstrual blood. Reff, Kobo and Tass stayed behind, tearing the carcass into smaller portions for transport. Juzo followed Huda to the top of the rise. From the crest of the hill, they looked down into a shallow bowl-shaped valley and an oval pool of red, iron-rich mud. Warm steam rose from the pit, heated by underground thermal activity but not so hot it boiled. Awed and fascinated by the sight he knew only from Moema’s stories, Huda forgot to remain wary. A stone suddenly smashed into the back of his skull and he fell unconscious. Juzo raised the rock to hit him again when the others caught up carrying their burden of meat.
“Stop!” Reff cried, horrified. “What have you done! You have killed our only Keeper!”
“He is no Keeper,” Juzo snorted. “How can a man keep, or even understand, the secrets of the Mother? Huda will no longer steal my woman. Lilith is mine!”
They stared at him, stunned by this treachery, dismayed to lose two Keepers within as many months. But Juzo had dominated them since their youth, so when he demanded they help him dispose of the body, they reluctantly obeyed.
“We will give him back to the Mother and see how she feels about a male Keeper,” Juzo sneered. “We must ensure no one of the clan ever finds his body.”
They rolled Huda to the edge of the ten-foot drop and pushed him over. He landed with a thick splash and slowly sank beneath the warm red mud.
“This is an evil thing,” Reff muttered, but not loudly enough so Juzo heard. Kobo, Juzo and Tass picked up the pieces of meat, but Reff moved down to the edge of the pool, feeling sick with grief. He liked Huda. How could the clan survive without a Keeper? He dipped his fingers into the Mother’s blood and touched it to his forehead in hopes she might forgive his part in this shameful act. Suddenly he saw something rising from the pool, just a blank oval at first. He shouted in alarm and the others, just about to leave, stopped and looked back
Slowly it rose, a featureless golem of clay. Then it snorted and began to breathe. Eyes opened, glaring and angry. It looked enormous and eerie, otherworldly. Slowly the coating of red clay sluiced away as Huda emerged from the Mother’s womb, coated with her blood like a newborn.
Reff fell to his knees and assumed a submissive posture. Tass murmured in awe, “The dead one is reborn from the womb of the Mother herself!” Then he, too, dropped into a humble posture and Kobo copied him. Only Juzo stood defiant. Huda strode up the hill vengefully until he stood face to face with his attacker. Then his fist crashed down on Juzo’s shoulder like a falling boulder and drove him to his knees. Without a word, Huda began the long trek home. The others followed nervously at a distance with Juzo trailing.
* * *
By the time they returned to the clan, much of the Mother’s blood had dried and flaked off Huda, but everyone could tell something unusual had happened. Reff and Tass told the story in awed whispers while sharing out the meat. Both Huda and Juzo remained at a distance, the tension and animosity between them obvious to everyone. Lilith took her portion and settled beside Huda. He allowed her proximity but made no welcoming gesture, even when she offered a share of her meat. He had consumed his share earlier and felt in no mood to eat. His stomach churned with anger.
Lilith began to rock and hum as she enjoyed the rare treat. Her musical vibrations calmed and soothed Huda and soon he rocked with her, a low rumble in his chest adding a bass harmony to her singing. She smiled, pleased by his participation and the feeling of unity it generated. Huda suddenly realized how intensely he valued her companionship.
That night when they all settled to sleep, he told again the story of Able and Cane, emphasizing the consequences of murderous violence.
* * *
As the dry season continued, the savannah grasses shriveled and turned to tinder, and then to powder, trampled to dust under the hooves of the herds as they migrated, searching for water and greener pastures. For the clan, food became scarce and drinkable water even scarcer.
They rested in the sleeping cave during the heat of the day, foraging in the relative cool of early morning and evening. Huda taught them to seek out and eat certain edible succulents that conserved water i
n their leaves. They took to calling these Huda’s plants. The clan learned to appreciate Huda’s survival knowledge. His rebirth had earned him a new name, Adham Huda Lionkiller, and a great deal of added respect. They turned to him for information and know-how, but they still did not acknowledge him as Keeper of the Mother’s Secrets. Juzo maintained his distance and Huda kept a sharp and critical eye on him at all times.
In order to find enough food and water, the clan needed to forage farther and farther away from the sleeping cave, testing the boundaries of their territory. Other clans of the Tribe lived beyond, under just as much stress, and clashes could prove deadly, so they moved quickly but with caution.
One morning Huda found a plant they called the Mother’s Breast. Shaved with a sharp flake of obsidian, the pulp of the head-sized root contained enough milky liquid to satisfy the thirst of the entire clan. While he crouched, concealed by the brush, Huda overheard Kobo teasing an adolescent member of the clan.
“You move slower than a three-legged turtle, young Moki.”
Born with a twisted leg and a deformed foot, Moki moved with an awkward limp and had difficulty keeping up. As a result, he often either had less time to forage or ended up foraging alone, far behind his kin.
Juzo, who usually travelled with Kobo, added sneeringly, “Evil spirits must have entered your mother’s womb to make you into such a useless, misshapen galago.”
Huda shot to his feet and barked sternly, “Stop!” Juzo stared at him with startled uncertainty, unaccustomed to hearing the big man assert himself. Moki stood bowed with shame and the sight angered Huda as much as Juzo’s cruel words.
“We are all children of Father Sun and Mother Earth. When you insult Moki, you insult the Father who made us, for we all bear the shape he intended. If he made Moki a little different, it only means the Father has a special plan for him.”
Juzo scowled and stamped away, resenting the rebuke but wary of antagonizing Huda. He knew the bigger man could have killed him and would have been justified. Huda could have sent Juzo into exile but had not. He could have assumed Juzo’s dominant position amongst the men but had not. He simply went on living quietly as he had always done. Except that he had taken Lilith as his permanent mate.
“Come and help me, Moki,” Huda suggested gently. “I have found one of the Mother’s Breasts. We will take it back to the Mother Cave to share.”
* * *
After that day, Moki became Huda’s shadow. When the clan travelled, Huda slowed his steps so the boy wouldn’t be left behind alone and Lilith happily explored the edges of the trails, finding forage the others missed with their swifter pace. Huda began teaching them both everything Moema had taught him. He knew the unexpected could happen in an instant, and if he died the clan would lose all the knowledge he held, knowledge they might need in order to survive.
* * *
Moki hesitated a few feet from the edge of a waterhole the drought had turned into a mud wallow. He watched three adolescent boys frolicking in the brown, murky pool, laughing and splashing one another and getting thoroughly coated. Huda had told Moki a coating of the Mother would protect his naked skin from biting insects and Father Sun’s burning heat. But with his compromised balance, he felt at a disadvantage in the rough-and-tumble play of his peers. He just crouched at the edge and used his cupped hands to scoop mud over his shoulders and back, smearing it over his arms and legs.
Three days later, the three playful boys fell sick. After two days of fever, when they only grew worse, their parents approached Huda. “You are the only Keeper we have, Adham Huda Lionkiller. Do the Mother’s Secrets say anything of such an illness? Can you help?”
Huda examined the three boys, each of them showing the same symptoms, their manhood red, enlarged and swollen hard, the foreskin glued shut with pussy discharge. “Evil spirits have invaded their manhood,” he announced. “If we do not release them, the boys will die.”
“I saw them playing together in the mudhole,” Moki offered. “Perhaps the evil spirits came from there.”
Huda nodded and announced, “We should all avoid that site until the Mother’s rains can cleanse it.”
Following his instructions, they carried the boys to the shore of the salty sea and laid them on the soft sand. With the entire clan watching, Huda knocked a fresh flake from his obsidian and used the razor edge to incise a thin line around the first boy’s foreskin, performing the first circumcision while the boy’s father and brothers held him down. As soon as the blade penetrated the skin, infection poured out in a flood of yellow pus. When he had completed all three circumcisions, Huda instructed the parents to immerse the boys in the shallow sea water to cool their fever and cleanse the wounds. The boys whimpered pitifully as the salt water stung their fresh incisions, but after a time the water brought their fever down and they became more aware of their surroundings. One after another they blinked and looked around, bewildered, then examined their wounds with dismay.
“Have we lost our manhood?” Laga questioned Huda in a whisper, afraid to say it too loudly for fear of ridicule or perhaps for fear it might be true.
“No. You have faced this ordeal with courage. You have fought the evil spirits and defeated them. Now, this day, you have become men, sharing responsibility for the safety and survival of the clan.”
* * *
The drought continued, well past the time when the rains usually began. The tribe survived on scavenged meat as more and more creatures died from thirst. But Huda knew they could not continue this way much longer. They had harvested all the Mother’s breast roots they could find within their territory, and twice needed to chase away invaders from other clans. At last, when they gathered in the sleeping cave for the night, Huda announced, “In the morning we must go on a journey, all of us. Moema once mentioned a land in the north where the Mother and Father remain in balance through all the seasons. This land can no longer provide what we need, so tomorrow we must go in search of a better place.”
“But we have lived here for generations,” one of the elders protested. “We know nothing of the country beyond. What if different plants grow there? How will we recognize what is safe to eat? What if we can find no safe places to shelter for the night? There may be new predators we know nothing about and evil spirits lurking in wait.”
“If you follow the false Keeper,” Juzo predicted darkly, “he will lead you to your death.”
“If we all remain here,” Huda argued, “we cannot survive. The land can no longer sustain us. If we go, we may perish just the same, but we may also find that green land of which Moema spoke. Is it not better to take that chance than to give up and wait to die of thirst and hunger?”
“The Mother has never failed us before,” one of the elders stated. “She will send her rains soon.”
The argument continued, some for leaving and some against. When morning came, Huda gathered up his grass carry sack, his chunks of obsidian and his sharpened digging stick. Lilith waited calmly beside him, ready to leave, demonstrating her faith in him. Moki came and stood before them, looking uncertain.
“May I come?” he asked anxiously. “I’ll try not to slow you down.”
“I welcome your company.” Huda smiled. “To leave you behind would pain me deeply.” He looked up and added, “I welcome all to join us. We will set our pace to accommodate the slowest. Those who wish to move faster may scout ahead to find the safest routes and stopping places.”
Slowly, the clan separated, polarized, with about a third choosing to stay. Huda felt relieved to see Juzo amongst their number and pleased to see Reff come over to his own side. Many of the elders chose to stay, reluctant to give up territory they had held for hundreds of generations, and perhaps feeling incapable of making the long journey. All three of the circumcised boys and their families chose to follow Huda.
Over the next five days, they moved steadily northward, pausing when they found forage and sleeping in whatever shelter they could fin
d, the first of thousands of human migrations.
Protected from predators by a thorny thicket, the migrants slept in a huddle and woke with the sunrise. When they crawled out into the open the next morning, they noticed a bank of mist in the distance and recognized it as a sign of water. Thirsty and hopeful, they detoured to the west. The sun quickly burned away the mist, but they continued until they reached a ridge looking down on a river valley. Below, water still flowed freely, though the muddy banks attested to the shrinking of the watercourse. Several logs floated on the surface, half submerged. Eager for a drink, they started forward, but Huda stopped them.
“Wait,” he cautioned them. “Watch. See if other creatures come here to drink.”
Reluctantly, they obeyed. Shortly, a small herd of wild horses warily approached and buried their noses in the water, drinking deeply. Suddenly one of the logs came to life and lunged out of the water, grasped a young colt in its long, toothy jaws and rolled with it, kicking and screaming, under the surface to drown it. The rest of the horses bolted. Suddenly the water roiled with huge, scaly bodies, all fighting for a piece of the prize.
The humans shuddered and bunched together, horrified. Finding water and remaining unable to drink seemed like torture. Huda told them, “We will follow the river north. Surely these monsters cannot occupy its entire length.”
From the Shores of Eden Page 9