“Yes, Father. I think it is right that you tell it.”
“Very well. I’ll do it.” Midgenemo was struck that twice his daughter had him deliver information, information that she could have delivered to grow her credibility with the People. He knew it wasn’t an issue of shyness. He began to wonder whether she might be leading him, but he quickly dismissed the thought as being beyond her years and capability. It was his responsibility to lead her, not the other way around. No, he reasoned, she could not be leading him. At council he’d deliver Wisdom’s message.
Many days had passed. The land grew snowier and colder. Hunters cleared away snow for paths to the sun trackers and the privy. They cleared away snow to the path that led to the lower level, careful to keep just enough snow so that they could walk with a grip of snow instead of sliding on ice. From time to time the hunters would climb to the top of the bent tree house to be sure that the snow didn’t appear too deep. They were unsure what they sought, having to learn during this first cold time. Days were still shortening, they discovered, checking the sun trackers at each opportunity of clear sky.
At the morning meal, Taman announced, “Today, any boys or girls ages five to ten who want to test for animal tracking, join me at the south entryway after we eat.”
Excitement rippled through the young children at the invitation. If they passed, they’d be called trackers. It was one of the first steps in becoming a hunter. Girls were as welcome as boys.
“You must let me go, Mother,” Ren insisted.
Tuksook was behind Ren, and Tuksook smiled an encouragement to her mother to let Ren attend. Item didn’t miss Tuksook’s smiling plea for her sister.
“Very well,” Item replied. Item actually spoke to Tuksook but Ren was unaware.
Ren was dumbfounded. There was no protestation. Her mother had just approved her request. Ren was thrilled. She’d learned the tracks from Lurch. She was certain she’d be successful. Her small round face was glowing. She ate too fast.
Once the confusion of the young ones dressing for the cold and assembling in the South part of the house occurred, Taman designated the hunter that would accompany each young one. Taman began the pairing: “When your names are called, leave by the south entryway. Be careful not to step on animal tracks. Nal, go with Remui. Ren, go with Hawk.” The four left quietly. Only the hunters carried spears.
“Kig, go with Orad. Wims—where’s Wims?—oh, there you are. Wims go with Vole.” They left quietly.
“Guw, go with Lurch. Velur, go with Pago. Olog, go with Momeh. Nipe, go with Moki.” They left.
“Col, go with Taq. Jum, go with Togomoo.” They left.
“Bitro, go with Stencellomak. Guko, go with Vel.”
“Finally, Solong, you go with me.” Solong and Taman left the house quietly.
In the east part of the house, Oneg finally let go of the sob she’d been holding in. She wept. She was planning to be a great hunter like her grandfather, Kew. Here was her first trial and she missed it because she still had to wear the splint on her leg. Her belly was ripped apart at not being able to participate.
Bit-n went to her, carrying an extra skin and red sphagnum moss. “I know you had your plans to shine in your tracking skill, my daughter. This is not your time. You must remember always to take care not to injure yourself. Keep your risks very low. Have you learned that?” Bit-n laid out the skin and Oneg swung her leg across it. She watched as Bit-n unwrapped the leg while the splints remained on. The leg was healing without infection, for which Bit-n was well pleased.
Oneg controlled her sobbing and looked with large eyes at her mother. “I was without a mind web, Mother. I have learned that lesson the hardest way possible.”
“Well,” Bit-n reasoned, “Maybe not the hardest way. I think death would be the hardest way.” Bit-n washed the leg with white moss and took the very warm red moss and laid it on top of the leg over the place, where she’d sewed the skin together with Oneg’s hair.
Oneg was silent briefly. She looked deeply into her mother’s eyes when Bit-n looked up. “Do you think that you can learn when you can no longer apply the lesson? If I learned and then died, how can I say I learned—because I’m dead?”
“Good question, Oneg. I’ll have to reason on that. I will provide you a lesson today in something the others don’t know. Be quiet until I return.”
Bit-n went to her bench/sleeping place and slid out a woven box from beneath the bench. She gently picked up a wrapped cylinder from the box and slid the box back under the bench. She carried the leather wrapped cylinder to Oneg.
“You must handle this with the greatest care,” she told the unhappy girl.
Oneg watched, fascinated as her mother carefully and slowly unwrapped the cylinder.
“This is a flute made for me when I was your age. I played it a lot. When I began to have children the flute fell into disuse, for I had other things to do. I still have too many very young ones that take my time. You can learn to play this while you have a broken leg. Perhaps, you can learn to make pleasing sounds to make the People happy in the house, especially while the cold is on the land.”
Oneg never had known her mother played the flute. She looked at the fragile looking bird bone her mother held tenderly in her hands. Oneg’s mind web was entranced by the uniqueness of the experience. She focused on nothing but her mother’s teaching, gently and simply, while the children outside did what she had not been able to do. She found herself desperate to learn to play the flute. Bit-n had never seen Oneg so interested in anything. It was a special time for them.
As Oneg played the three melodies, Bit-n removed the cooled red sphagnum from her leg and took the materials she used to treat Oneg’s leg to dry so they could be disposed of. She smiled to think how well the leg was healing.
By the time the children began to return to the bent tree house, Oneg had learned three melodies and was beginning to experiment with the sounds produced by each covered hole by one or more fingers. Each sound was firmly set in her mind web. She had learned to count as she played, so that the melody fit properly with a rhythm. It was an entirely new world and Oneg wanted to absorb it all well.
A few children saw what she had and asked to try it. She told them the flute was special to her mother and she did not have permission to share it. It gave her something to do while she couldn’t use her leg. That satisfied the children.
Ren went to her and asked, “What is that?”
“Hi, Ren. It’s my mother’s flute. She is teaching me to play it, to give me something to do, since I can’t go outside to test for tracker. How’d you do?”
“I passed the test, Oneg. I am so excited. I passed it.”
“I’m happy for you, Ren. I know you really wanted to pass it. That’s great!”
“Oneg, will you play for me?”
“I’ll be happy to. Listen to this one.” Oneg played the first melody her mother taught her. It was simple to play, but even in its simplicity, it took the mind web and carried it to restful, calm places.
Ren’s eyes widened as she listened. “That’s beautiful, Oneg. Can I come back and sit here and listen to you play it?”
“With your mother’s permission,” Oneg told her, secretly hoping Item would give her permission, because she was often lonely. Others were always busy doing things she couldn’t do.
Item gave permission to Ren to visit with Oneg. Ren was captivated by the melodies.
At council that night, the children who passed the tracker test were recognized. Taman said, “First, let us thank those hunters who conducted the testing.”
The People nodded towards hunters they knew participated. Many actually said aloud, “Thank you.”
Taman continued, “Our new trackers are: Nal, Ren, Kig, Guw, Bitro, Solong. For those of you who tried, good effort on the part of all! The biggest difficulty lay in separating the camel, horse, and sheep tracks. Some had trouble with the hare and squirrel. For those of you who didn’t pass this time, continue your eff
ort. There will be another test. Be ready. Remember next time the tracks may be different. Also, remember that it is the droppings, sometimes, that are the clue when you have difficulty with the tracks. It is also wise to follow the tracks back and forward, for that may provide more information. Again, good effort all.”
A few days later, Ottu reported at the morning meal that the shortest day had finally passed. The People were looking forward to days lengthening. By evening, and for the third time that day, the Wise One experienced pain in his chest. The last episode left him breathless and sweating. Finally, at his wits end, he told Item.
“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
He just looked at her as she put her head, ear side down, on his chest. She drew back and looked at him accusingly. “You’ve been having this problem for a long time,” she said.
“Yes,” he replied.
“You know that your heart is beating irregularly?”
“Well, no, I didn’t know that,” he told her. “Am I dying?” he asked.
“I don’t think it’s come to that,” she said lightly, though she really had no idea. “I do want you to take some tea that I’ll fix for you. Stay there,” she told him.
He was resting on his bench and had no energy to apply to moving anywhere.
Item took some white bark from the spruce tree from one of her leather pouches. She poured hot water over it and carried it to Midgenemo. “Now, drink this,” she said. “I have one other thing to bring you, so drink that down.”
Item took some wild geranium root, thinking of the lovely blue flowers that the plant showed when it bloomed. She cut off some and poured hot water over it. She carried it to Midgenemo. She put the bowl on the ground and took the small bowl he’d just emptied. She put her head, ear side down, on his chest. The heart still had the same irregular heartbeat.
She handed him the second small bowl. “Drink all of this,” she said.
“I will,” he replied, taking the bowl from her.
He drank all of it. There was nothing in the bowl to make him drowsy, but he suddenly felt very sleepy.
“Pull yourself all the way on our sleeping place, and sleep a bit. It will make the things I gave you to drink work better,” she said. She knew she’d made that up, but she wanted him to think positively and knew he was quick to fear death from small things. This was no small thing—she knew. She was afraid for him, and she couldn’t let him see that.
Flute music began to play in the east part of the house. Bit-n was on her way to treat Oneg’s leg. She smiled. Her daughter was doing well.
She took the warmed moss and skin and went to Oneg. Oneg immediately put the flute down.
“Mother,” she asked, “What did you reason?”
Bit-n wondered what she had missed. She looked at Oneg with a blank face.
“Mother, you said you’d reason to decide whether you could say someone learned something, if, just after they saw what they needed to see, they died.”
“Oh, that. I did spend a little time reasoning it. I can see why you say what you say. Let me suggest you ask Tuksook,” Bit-n said as a way to defer to those who might have a better answer.
“I’ll do that, Mother. Thank you. Oh, that is very warm!” she said surprised.
Bit-n put a small skin over the moss to hold the heat longer.
“I’ll let Tuksook know you have a question for her,” Bit-n said.
“Thank you, Mother,” Oneg replied.
Bit-n left her, heading to the west side of the house where she could see Tuksook.
Tuksook stood up as Bit-n approached. It was the polite thing to do when an older person approached.
“Don’t stand up,” Bit-n protested.
“Are you looking for me?” Tuksook asked.
“Yes, Tuksook. Yesterday Oneg and I were talking and I asked her whether she’d learned not to take risks like the one that caused her fall. She was upset that she missed the tracker testing. She said it was the hardest learning. I said I thought that the hardest learning resulted in death. Then, Oneg asked whether you could consider learning something, if death followed, and you couldn’t apply the learning. She’s young for questions like this. I told her I’d ask you to answer the question.”
Tuksook looked at Bit-n. “That is a question beyond her years, but one that she’s had plenty of time to reason. I tend to agree with her, Bit-n. We’re certainly taught to learn and apply, until those words are paired in our mind webs. We’re even taught that if you haven’t applied it, you haven’t learned it. I’ll be glad to talk to her about this. I have heard her play your flute. It’s lovely. I hope she really likes it, because it gave me great pleasure yesterday.”
“Please, Tuksook, when you talk to her, let her know that.”
“I will,” Tuksook smiled broadly at Bit-n.
Tuksook stood up and headed to the east part of the house. Wisdom had made it clear to her that she needed to talk to the younger people. This was a start. Slow start, but a start.
She looked at Oneg, Ren’s favorite friend. The little girl had red curly hair and blue eyes. She looked very worn out with the splint and having to be immobilized. “Oneg, I have heard the flute music and it is very lovely. It made me so happy yesterday. I hope you’ll play more today.”
“I’ll do it, Tuksook. I have so much to learn, but it is wonderful to have something to do that takes my mind web off my leg. I like playing it.”
“Good. Everyone should be happy to hear that. Bit-n said you have a question about whether, if one dies just after learning, it could be said they have learned. You have been taught just as I have been taught that you don’t learn anything unless you apply it. Learn and apply; learn and apply. We’re taught to put that in our mind webs early in life. I think your question was well reasoned, Oneg, and I’d tend to agree with your thought. So, yes, maybe one of the hardest ways to learn is through pain. There is another way that may be tougher. What would you think of having to learn a lesson because something you did hurt someone else.”
“If I hurt someone else, it would be worse than hurting me. If I’d had to learn not to risk myself in a dangerous situation, because doing that hurt someone else—that would be harder than if I hurt myself. That way two People are hurt instead of one: the one who was hurt and me, because I’d hurt for hurting someone else.”
“How about if you hurt ten People, because you needed to learn something.”
“I see what you mean, Tuksook. You’ve made me think hard. Hurting many People would be very painful. I’d hurt for each one and for myself.”
“Well, Oneg,” Tuksook said putting her hand gently on Oneg’s shoulder, “It’s fortunate that you didn’t die. Now, please put your effort into learning to play that flute as you put effort into learning well to become a hunter. Then, I’ll be so proud of you. Playing the flute well can give something to this house that comes from nowhere right now. Instead of hurting anyone else, it’s like a gift to everyone.”
Oneg was so touched that she reached out and hugged Tuksook. Tuksook was startled but returned the hug.
“I promise, Tuksook.”
“Good.”
Tuksook headed back to her place in the west part of the house. Gumui had just come in from outside and hung up his cold time protection clothing.
“You have been visiting Oneg?” he asked a little surprised.
“Yes. She had a question she’d asked Bit-n, and Bit-n referred the question to me.”
“What could a six-year-old ask Bit-n that she’d need to refer to you?” Gumui chuckled.
“She asked if you learned something and then died, whether you’d really learned it, since there was no opportunity to apply it.”
“She asked what? That kid has a mind web that works like yours!”
“Yes, I guess you could say that. She does reason things out, and, when she cannot find an answer, she asks.” Tuksook sat on the edge of the bench.
Gumui sat beside
her and put his arm around her.
“So?”
Tuksook laughed. “So, I reminded her that we’re taught very young here to learn and apply, learn and apply. I agreed with her reasoning that if you learn something and then die, you’d probably not call it learning, since there’s no way to apply it.”
“I love you,” Gumui said with a hug.
“I love you, too. I’m so happy the days are growing in length.”
“I am, too. I love this house, but I like to be outside more often than is comfortable now.”
“At least the sun doesn’t leave us completely. Do you think there are places where the sun disappears?”
“In our old land, some traveling hunters talked about a far north land where there is no sun for part of the year.”
“I hope the sun never leaves us completely.”
“I agree. It’s very cold outside with the little sun we have. The wind makes it a lot colder.”
“What wind?”
“Oh, we’ve had a breeze out there blowing in from the north. It’s convenient we’re in this meadow in the trees. It keeps a lot of the wind away from us.”
Item went over to Midgenemo and though he still slept, she put her head, ear down, on his chest to see how his heart sounded. There was no change. The knowledge troubled her a lot, but there was no one with whom she could share her concern. She fixed another tea, mixing the white inner bark of the spruce with the wild geranium root. She took it to him and wakened him.
“I really went to sleep in the day?” he said surprised.
“Yes, you did. You must be tired.” She handed him the tea.
“This tastes different,” he remarked.
“That’s because I put two things together. It’s fine this way.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. Thank you, Item. You are a good woman.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Tell me, when did you first notice that you didn’t feel right?”
“I think it was back in our old land, before I learned from Wisdom that we had to migrate. I had some awful pain. But, then, it went away and I didn’t think about it much after that.”
“So, it’s been going on for quite some time.”
Tuksook's Story, 35,000 BC Page 18