I wished to try many more experiments, but Sinanie was determined to limit the duration of each of my sessions with the Lamotelokhai. Consequently I was then taken to more of the village huts to continue learning about the daily life of these peculiar people. During the process I met several villagers for the first time, including yet another woman, only the fourth I had seen, although I had met at least twelve different men. It was interesting to learn more of the tribe’s customs, but I could not prevent my thoughts from returning to the Lamotelokhai and all it could do.
Even now, as I sit alone in my hut, writing beside the open doorway to catch the last of the day’s light, I can think of little else. There are no natives below my hut to prevent my leaving. I have food in my belly and water to drink. Although I have no civilized clothing, I now possess a gourd that covers my private organs, which somehow seems to place me at a level equal to the other men of the village. And I dare say that I am beginning to think of Sinanie and a few of the others as friends. I am in good health. In fact, I feel physically improved beyond any time of my previous life, no doubt due to the medicinal benefits of the Lamotelokhai. And there seems to be yet enough scientific questions to investigate to keep me busy and stimulated mentally for a very long time.
Although I do hope to see my beloved Lindsey again someday, presently my will to escape this village has dissolved.
13
May 5, 1868
It seems my wish for a peaceable existence will forever elude me, as today I was again a witness to murder. Today, Penapul and a half dozen of his warriors attacked this village. They must have been hiding in the forest north of the village, perhaps waiting for any unsuspecting individual or small group to walk nearby. An opportunity came to them when three tribesmen, Korul, Ot, and Teatakan returned from a hunting excursion, unaware they were walking into an ambush.
I was with Matiinuo and Sinanie, learning about their process of making strong cord and rope from plant fibers, when we heard shouting. We quickly grabbed spears and joined the other tribesmen who were running to the scene of the disturbance. However, we were too late. Ot and Teatakan lay dead or injured upon the ground, and Korul was maimed and bleeding from numerous wounds. Penapul and his men saw us coming, and they gathered into a defensive line, brandishing spears and steel choppers that were red with fresh blood.
Sinanie, Matiinuo, and a dozen other tribesmen formed a line, shoulder to shoulder, facing the Humboldt Bay men. I stood for a moment, frozen with indecision, but then I stepped up beside Sinanie and held my spear toward the attackers in the same manner as the others. I was keenly aware that I was defending the tribe that had held me as their captive. However, not only had I grown fond of them, but also they were the stewards of the Lamotelokhai, which I now understood to be of immeasurable importance.
Upon seeing me with his enemies, Penapul called out to me. “Ané lai-m, Samuel! Nokhu ima-fon khüp Miok, Loo, Amborn.”
“Penapul, a terrible thing has happened,” I said in English. “Miok, Loo, and Amborn are dead. But you have taken your revenge. You must now leave this village, or you surely will be killed.”
Of course my words were not understood. The men at my side began advancing, one step at a time, while repeatedly uttering loud grunts that were no doubt intended to intimidate Penapul and his men. To the side I saw Korul stagger and fall, finally succumbing to his grievous wounds. Matiinuo broke from our line, ran to Korul, and dragged his body back behind us. Matiinuo then shouted with rage at the attackers and rejoined our line of defense.
“You have killed three men!” I shouted to Penapul. “Justice has been wreaked. Please yield.”
But my words were useless. Sinanie and the others rushed forward, leaving me standing alone, uncertain of what I should do. I was quite sure I would help Sinanie defend the village against an attack, but Penapul’s men were now outnumbered, and it seemed they could do no more harm. At first I thought perhaps Sinanie’s advance would serve the purpose of forcing Penapul’s men to flee, but they did not retreat and were immediately overwhelmed by fifteen attackers.
In mere seconds the fighting was over. Four of Penapul’s men lay writhing upon the ground, and the others had run away to save their own lives. I then watched with mortification as the four fallen invaders were stabbed repeatedly until they were most assuredly dead. This act of barbarism should not have shocked me so much, considering what I had previously seen these savages do. However, what I found to be so unsettling was the indifferent and apathetic manner in which they extinguished the lives of the helpless men, as if the task were no more significant than slapping bothersome flies.
When Sinanie and his fellow tribesmen were certain the men were dead and that Penapul and his warriors were truly gone, they turned their attention to their own fallen men. With scarcely a word spoken, they carried the bodies of Teatakan, Ot, and Korul to the hut where the Lamotelokhai was kept. They did not even check the men to see if they were still alive. With an ease of manner, as if they had done this many times before, they employed an elaborate technique of hoisting the men up using ropes that seemed to be there for that very purpose. When all three of the bodies were in the hut, I followed the remaining men up the ladder. At this point there were so many natives in the hut that I feared it might collapse under the weight, but it held fast. Three women were present, but they hid themselves from me by standing behind the men in such a way that I only occasionally saw portions of their faces, and I could not determine if they were the females I had seen before.
The three bodies were arranged beside the low table holding the Lamotelokhai. Matiinuo pulled a bit of clay from the large lump. He went to Ot’s side, forced open the lid of one of the man’s eyes, and rubbed the clay directly onto the eyeball. He then repeated this operation with Teatakan and Korul. This apparently concluded the treatment of these fallen men, as most of the natives then left the hut. Sinanie came to me and indicated that I should leave as well, and he followed me to the ground.
I said to him, “Yekhené mbakha-mol-mo-dakhu khomilo?”
My translation:
“Will the men die?”
Sinanie nodded at me, indicating that he was impressed by my rapidly improving use of his language. He then began walking with me to my hut. He replied, “Lamoda-Lamotelokhai. Béto-pé lép afü-ma-tél-e-kha menél khi-telo.”
My translation:
“They were touched by the Lamotelokhai. Afterward the very sick people become healthy.”
It then occurred to me that his words for ‘very sick’ might have had a much broader definition than I had previously assumed, and that perhaps these natives did not even distinguish between ‘very sick’ and ‘dead.’ I attempted to form the correct words to inquire about this.
His answer was extensive and somewhat confusing. My interpretation, although perhaps imperfect, was that he believed that indeed there was no difference between ‘very sick’ and ‘dead.’ The Lamotelokhai could heal both of these conditions. But he pointed out that there was a distinct difference between ‘dead’ (khomilo) and ‘very dead’ (khomilo-ayan).
I then asked what ‘very dead’ meant, and he explained that it took much work to make a man ‘very dead.’ It was necessary to pound, or stab, or cut the man’s body until there was nothing remaining, at which point the clay of the Lamotelokhai could no longer make the man healthy again.
When we arrived at my hut, Sinanie left me alone. I walked north to again visit the site of the attack. The Humboldt Bay men still lay where they had been slaughtered, but they were now in an advanced state of decomposition, with nearly half of each body already turned to soil. This had to be the result of the natives putting portions of the Lamotelokhai upon the bodies, just as they had done to the bodies of poor Charles and my three boys. I found it unnerving that the same clay, from the same source, could somehow preserve life in one instance and destroy life in another. I returned to my hut to once again ponder the implications of the strange things I had learned.
I am apparently free to leave this village whenever I wish. However, I have determined the Lamotelokhai to be too important for me to leave now. In recent days I have learned much about it, not the least of which is that there may be no limits to the miracles it can perform. Instead, the limits exist only in my capacity to communicate clearly what I wish for it to do. Hence, there is much work yet for me to do here, and it is difficult to express how important I believe this work to be. It seems inevitable that this mysterious lump of clay will eventually be taken from Sinanie’s tribe, and then, due to its extraordinary nature, it will find its way by trade or outright seizure into civilized society. This I have grown to fear above all things, as I can imagine the ways it will be used to further the power and wealth of the few, thus resulting in even greater suffering of the many. And very little effort is required to imagine far worse consequences.
Now I fear that Penapul will return, bringing with him more of his warriors and seeking further revenge. If he overcomes Sinanie’s tribe, he will likely steal the Lamotelokhai and take it back to Humboldt Bay, thus commencing a sequence of events that will deliver it into the hands of more influential men.
To add to my fears, I had met no fewer than forty men when living with Penapul’s tribe. Here in Sinanie’s tribe I have seen only eighteen men, three of whom are now injured at the very least.
We are greatly outnumbered.
14
May 14, 1868
In the days following the attack, there was much consternation among the villagers. This was the first time that laléo (the word for outsiders or strangers, particularly those of evil nature) had ever attempted to raid this village. Apparently, Sinanie and his fellow tribesmen had a habit of killing any hunting parties who happened to wander near the village, thus resulting in other tribes of the region altogether avoiding the area. This explained why Penapul had been happy to send Charles and I to collect in this place, and why he had wished for my three boys to return upon guiding us here. He had wished, as I had suspected, to be rid of us without risking the lives of the boys.
My command of the tribe’s language had much improved by this time, and several days after the attack I suggested to Sinanie that the tribe move to a new location further inland. He told me he would propose this possibility to Matiinuo, who was the tribal elder. In order to further expound upon the merits of this suggestion, I also explained that Humboldt Bay, due to its excellent quality, would attract more ships and would eventually become colonized. After I explained what the term “colonized” meant, this seemed to concern him, which was the result I desired. However, he explained that moving the village would require a great deal of effort, as new houses would have to be built and new hunting grounds established. In addition, they would likely have to fight and drive away another tribe whose territory they would have to claim as their own.
I then suggested they could go to Penapul’s tribe and attempt to establish peaceful relations by offering gifts, or perhaps goods for trade. Sinanie seemed completely perplexed by this notion, and no amount of discussion could convince him that such a relationship between tribes could ever be possible.
Hence, as the days have passed, and as I have learned more about the habits of this tribe and the wonders of the Lamotelokhai, so have I kept my eyes on the dark shadows of the forest, fearful that Penapul will return with all of his warriors.
At this time I must conclude my writing, as I have exhausted the last pages of my notebook. In recent days, I have contemplated destroying this notebook, as it occurred to me that it might lead men with evil intentions directly to the Lamotelokhai. But I have decided that it is only a matter of time before civilized men, regardless of their moral character, discover the Lamotelokhai anyway. This notebook, therefore, might serve as a warning to those who would find and read it. I truly hope my words have adequately explained the importance and dangers of what has remained hidden here in the most remote jungle for such a long time.
15
May 21, 1868
I explained to Sinanie my quandary regarding my shortage of pages on which to write. He then looked with only mild curiosity at my notebook. By all reckoning, this should have been a significant revelation for a savage who previously had never used written script as a means to communicate. As Sinanie’s tribe had long ago forbidden direct engagement with the strange figures created by the Lamotelokhai, these figures were now little more to them than fanciful designs to be carved upon objects as ornamentation. As such, Sinanie may have considered my somewhat less-than-elegant handwriting to be rather crude attempts at decorative art. He nevertheless led me into the forest to show me a tree with loose bark that could be peeled off in large sheets. The backside of the bark was smooth and light in color, and would be suitable as paper. I thanked him prodigiously, to his amusement, and collected a pile of sheets. Later I trimmed them to the same size, dried them, and bound them together into a serviceable notebook using cord I had learned to make from plant fibers.
Upon the first pages of my new notebook I wish to describe in some detail what I have most recently learned of my indigene hosts.
Notwithstanding the barbarous state of these natives’ existence, I have witnessed various events and customs such that I am compelled to reconsider my original conclusions, leading me now to regard certain aspects of their culture with some esteem. In fact, I find it unavoidable to draw comparisons to the culture of the three-legged creatures that created the Lamotelokhai, whom I have seen in my visions to exist in a state of civilization that all societies should aspire to someday achieve.
As I have previously stated, it is my opinion, as it is the opinion of many learned men, that the highest state of civilization would afford equality to all individuals, both in wealth and social station. Remarkably, the two indigenous tribes I have lived among, but particularly Sinanie’s tribe, seem to have achieved such equality. Admittedly, there is little or no wealth to speak of here, but each member of the tribe seems to have access to the same resources as all other members. Even the huts themselves are shared, as the natives move about and sleep in whichever hut is positioned most conveniently for the activities they are currently engaged in. If three men are preparing for a hunting excursion, they will gather their bows and spears and other supplies and sleep together in the hut nearest the direction they wish to embark upon the first light of morning. If several women wish to process raw sago into sago paste, they will gather the necessary ingredients in the hut where they have built drying shelves of clay, and there they will work and sleep until their task is complete. The resulting sago paste, as well as the meat procured by the hunters, is then made available to all members of the tribe, in whatever quantities they may need. When supplies run out, Matiinuo gathers the tribe together to inform them that more is needed. At these gatherings, the villagers have been accustomed to render voluntary obedience, and typically there are adequate numbers of members who will engage themselves willingly in the needed tasks. Upon the rare occasion that all the villagers are unwilling due to being occupied in other tasks, Matiinuo, being the tribal elder, will simply assign the work to be done to those he wishes to do it. What I find to be most striking is that any or all members of the tribe who have the skill and inclination may participate in the requested tasks. The only exception to this that I have seen is hunting, which seems to be restricted to the men of the tribe.
Another example of the social equality of these people is the treatment of the three men attacked by Penapul’s tribe. The wounds of Teatakan, Ot, and Korul were treated in the same way that any other members of the tribe would be treated. In addition to this, it seemed that all members of the tribe participated, or at least had the opportunity to participate, in administering care to these injured men.
This led me to inquire of Sinanie as to whether or not there were individuals of the tribe who were particularly skilled at healing, such as a shaman. His response indicated that there were indeed several men, including himself, and one woman, who were ofte
n consulted regarding such matters due to their knowledge and skills.
It is inevitable that, in an advancing society, specialization or division of labor will become essential, as advancing knowledge renders it impossible for one man to learn all the particulars of more than one or two specific fields of specialty. A barber learns the intricacies of the coiffeur’s art in order to provide the latest styles of the culture in which he works. The factory worker learns to operate the specific machinery of his assigned station. The naturalist, such as myself, learns the taxonomy and physiology of the specific sorts of living things that inspire his interests, such as the mammalogist’s inclination for beasts bearing fur.
But in the ‘great’ societies of the world, the vast majority of citizens have little choice in the occupation in which they specialize. This again is a result of the accumulation of wealth. The vast majority have little or no wealth and likewise little or no choice in their occupation. Those few who are fortunate to have wealth, myself included, may pursue whatever interests them. But in the tribe of the savage, where wealth is nonexistent, it seems that all men and women have the same opportunities to pursue whatever occupations or activities they may wish.
Diffusion Box Set Page 97