In telling his guards the night before where they were hoping to go, Zan had not been wise. The wasp men knew exactly in which direction to pursue them, and might well have caught them quickly if they had not delayed. But they had been preparing for a larger attack against the five clans, their old enemies. Thus, Zan’s small band had a whole day to flee before they were followed—not by one but by seven clans of barbaric, fantastically painted warriors. It was almost an army.
When Zan’s group entered the land of red rocks they had to stop and camp whether they wanted to or not. They had hardly slept in days, nor eaten more than their bare subsistence required. Zan and Chul were accustomed to deprivation, but Dael was weakened by whole years of captivity. Lissa-Na, unused to either long travel or lack of comfort, was visibly in danger of collapse. In time, as they walked between the high, protective walls of the red cliffs, Zan recognized his former dugout shelter by the great death’s-head configurations. Curiously, none of the party but he saw skull forms in the rocks, and Zan did not point them out. Showing them the easiest way to ascend to the dugout, he received an unlikely surprise when he found that it was already occupied! A young lad showed himself and called out to Zan-Gah in a familiar voice. It was Rydl!
Warm (if astonished) greetings and introductions followed. Zan explained to his companions how Rydl had befriended him in his time of trouble, and he was well received. Rydl finally understood what a twin was, and gazed long and curiously at both of them, giving a frightened glance at Chul as well. Rydl explained that his aid to Zan a few weeks earlier had been quickly suspected by the wasp men, and feeling sure that his kinsmen would force the truth out of him, he ran away, hiding in the red dugout and enjoying life there for the most part. He showed Zan the sling he had made for himself, and demonstrated how adept he had become with it. This surprised Zan as he remembered how little Rydl formerly had been interested in his invention. Trying it out, Chul responded to the weapon as Rydl had when he was younger—with awkwardness and little profit. It kept getting tangled, and Chul tended to hit himself with his own rock. None guessed at the time how important the invention of the sling would be to the future of Zan’s people.
There was no time for this “plaything.” The exhausted party had to sleep for a few hours and quickly get on their way. Rydl, learning who might be pursuing them, decided to go along lest he be seized by his people and flung into the bottomless chasm. He too slept in preparation for a journey. Chul was the first to awake, roused by a distant noise. He immediately woke the others and bade them listen. The sound they heard was like remote thunder, and Zan took it to be an approaching storm; but Chul, allowing his jaw to drop as he listened intently, declared that it was the beat of drums. The wasp men were coming!
Chul instructed them to gather their things quickly. It sounded like an army and it was getting closer. As in a hunt the wasp warriors were announcing their advance with a dreadful clamor in the hope of driving their quarry to the edge of the abyss. Zan thought of the lion hunt when a similar method had been used. “Why should we allow them to drive us into their trap?” Zan asked. “We could wait here and try to slip behind their lines. I am not afraid of their noises!” Even as he spoke the drumbeats grew louder, now accompanied by a savage, deep-voiced chant of war: Ah ah UH! Ah ah UH! Ah ah UH!
“To be trapped in this hole like frightened animals?” Chul responded. “No! We know where the crossing is, and we can beat them to it! If they get there first, our people will have no warning of the attack. And they will place guards at the bridge to take us when we try to cross.” There was no time for debate. They were roughly jolted into action by the regimented, inexorable reverberation of the drums. Chul led and the others followed him—except for Dael, who followed Lissa-Na. And still the coarse chant and thunderous beat pursued them, ever louder.
The wasp men progressed at a steady, deliberate pace, eventually pausing to camp for the night. They were in no great hurry, satisfied that nothing could stop their advance. Zan’s party made no such pauses, but sped toward the great cleft with its single crossing; so they were actually able to increase the distance that separated them from the drums and arrive at the chasm well before them. Unfortunately, they could not at once find the dead tree which served as the only bridge, and by the time they did, the wasp men were in sight, beating a note of terror, and grumbling their dull cry of battle. Rydl went first, dancing across with practiced step like a cat. Lissa-Na, whom Zan had come to respect as a very courageous person, crossed next with no sign of fear, her red hair flying. Dael followed, and then Zan. In the middle of the crossing Dael suddenly stopped and looked down into the stupefying depths of the chasm. Perhaps he was asking himself whether or not to end his life then and there. Guessing at his thought, Lissa called to him and extended her hand. He looked at her face for four or five seconds, looked down again, and then—took her hand and went across. Zan was close behind.
The wasp men with their eerily painted faces and red-tipped spears were close, and the tumult of their drums beat like astounding thunder. It was Chul’s turn to cross, but he did not take it! Instead he grasped in his huge hands the end of the gnarled old log that served as a bridge. It was the small end, the top of what had once been a tree, and with a titanic effort wrenched the trunk from its seat on the other side and sent it toppling and crashing by starts to the bottom of the abyss. To save his friends Chul was sacrificing himself! There was no crossing now, and the spearmen were rushing toward him. An agile dodge and the stroke of his club sent the foremost of them to his death. Meanwhile Zan, Lissa-Na, and Rydl were using their slings to good effect, giving Chul some relief. But it could not be long before he would be cut down by the multitudes that were approaching. It was Rydl who saved him. Calling loudly to him, he signaled a spot nearby that was a little narrower than the fissure generally was. Nowhere was the split in the earth very wide, but this spot alone might possibly be crossed by a very large, athletic, and daring man. Taking a desperate run, Chul leapt across to a colossal boulder on the other side, grabbing it with his very fingernails and holding onto it for his life. To his dismay, he heard a grating sound that sickened him. Under the violent shock of his weight the boulder had begun to move! With a final dauntless effort, even as spears were being hurled at him, Chul reached the top of the great rock, which slowly was collapsing under him. At the last crucial moment he was able to jump onto the far side and evade the assault, while the immense stone, like the gnarled log before, tumbled and crashed for a full minute to the bottom of the chasm.
12
THE COUNCIL
OF ELDERS
The drums stopped. The wasp men, gathering at the edge of the cliff, first gazed into its awesome depths and then outward at the escaping fugitives. Once at a safe distance, Zan and his group did not look back. Several of the warriors threw their spears in sheer rage, although they knew that their targets were well out of range. Then they turned their wrath on their leader, as though it had been his fault that their intended victims had gotten away. Before long they were all arguing among themselves. They were indeed a quarrelsome people, swift to anger and far from unified—except in their shared desire for pillage.
Not one of their large group dared attempt the leap that Chul had made, and the next point of passage over this great schism in the earth was three days away. A few were ready to make the trek, but the greater number were not. Unnerved by the physical power of Chul and the inept beginning they had made, they decided to go home for a while to regroup their forces and salve their morale. Later they would build another bridge, when they had the materials they needed at hand. This was finally agreed upon, but not without such violent dissension that they came near to attacking each other.
It need hardly be said with what surprise, joy, and excitement the return of Zan-Gah, Dael and Chul was received. From a distance, Thal recognized the two familiar globes of hair as in former days. How happy he was to see his two sons together whom he never thought to see again! When they arri
ved, Wumna, not believing her eyes and afraid the vision would disappear, nearly fell down from sudden happiness; while the father stared in wonder at his boys, now taller and softly whiskered. Zan, slim and grown, thought that his mother had shrunk, and that Siraka-Finaka seemed even smaller than he remembered. Siraka-Finaka completely ignored Zan and Dael, considering only the giant before her. She pounded her husband’s hairy chest with her little fists to make certain that he was real. Chul lifted her off her feet, embracing her and his children as he never had before. Then he twirled his war club over his head with a whoop of triumph joined in by one and all. Unnoticed at first, Lissa-Na and Rydl were accepted and welcomed as the friends of Zan-Gah, and Chul was not slow to tell how Rydl had saved him from sure destruction. Zan, too, informed his family that Lissa-Na had been his healer and friend. Wumna squinted her eyes and looked narrowly at her for a moment, and Siraka-Finaka examined her red hair in wonder, as at the plumage of an exotic bird. But Lissa was soon made to feel at home.
That night before the fire, conversation turned to serious matters. Thal was visibly older, and white hairs had appeared in his dark beard. He was more somber than Zan had ever seen him. The feud between the clans had begun again. It was the Hru who had broken the truce. They had gradually regained their strength once they had gotten some food. Zan remembered the rabbit he had given them when they were too hungry to hunt or attend to their own needs. Emboldened by Chul’s absence, their defensiveness had changed to aggressive hostility, and although no one yet had been killed, some were seriously wounded.
“Friends,” Zan said, “I must depart again to visit Aniah as I promised to do if I should return, and I must bring Dael with me if he will go. We cannot afford our hatred. I have reason to believe that the wasp men will be coming in great force, and we must stand together against them once again if we are to survive.”
Very early the next day, Thal and Chul walked with the twins most of the way as their guards, but on approaching the dwelling of Aniah they remained behind. Their presence would only aggravate matters. If peace could be made, Zan-Gah would have to make it without their help.
The word soon spread throughout the clans that Zan-Gah had returned with his brother. How this became known so quickly was a mystery, although not a difficult one; for although the men spoke only within their own clans, the women mixed secretly at times, sometimes for religious reasons. Generally, the women were less separated by hatred than their husbands. It was their own sufferings that they cared about, not the rancor and prejudices of their men.
When Zan and Dael approached the northern clan, they were welcomed in a more friendly fashion than ever. Zan-Gah, the hero of the lion hunt, was now also seen as the determined champion who had risked all to recover his brother and twin. Aniah clasped their hands, feasted them, and gave them audience. He looked at Dael with curiosity, for he could see that he was much changed. He observed that Dael said nothing, and stood behind Zan-Gah like his shadow. Zan had a great deal to tell, but he confined himself to the wasp people. He told Aniah how he had narrowly escaped, and how the might of Chul had temporarily prevented a massive invasion. “The wasp people are determined,” he said, “to destroy us or make slaves of us,” adding that many, perhaps two hundred had come at them.
Aniah had the look of one who is groaning inwardly with pain, his brow newly entrenched with a leader’s woe. “It is hardly seven days since we were at each other’s throats,” he said. “Of all the five clans there is not one that does not feel aggrieved about something.”
“Hear me, Aniah,” Zan said with an intensity that surprised the old man. “We must unite. We have no choice! It is only by good fortune that the wasp men are not here this very day! I have struggled with land and weather, with enemies and fierce animals, as you have. But always the chief struggle was with myself! We must fight down our passions and our rages before we can defeat the greatest of our enemies.” Then he added: “I know that you are a great man, older and wiser than I. But when did wisdom make war when it was not necessary, and neglect it when it was? Let us use our wisdom and your leadership to end this bloody strife.”
Aniah was amazed at the manly change that had taken place in one whom he remembered as a boy. With his hand over his mouth, and furrowing his aged, wrinkled forehead, he thought deeply over what Zan-Gah had said. He stirred the fire with a stick and after a long pause declared firmly at last: “There is only one man who can pacify our clans and lead us to a truce.”
“And who is that, Aniah?”
“You, Zan-Gah! You are the only man among us who has the admiration and love of all! When you slew the man-eating lion you won the hearts of everyone, and your return with your lost brother just as you promised has gained increased respect!”
Zan was gratified by this speech, not only for Aniah’s praise, which he much valued, but because Aniah had called him a man. Was he a man now and no longer a boy?
“The Hru will not receive me,” Aniah continued. “The Luta will not welcome your father or your uncle. There is no one but you!”
“Then hear my plan, Aniah, for I will need your help.”
Zan’s project was first to hold a council to which each of the five clans would send two elders and one woman of their selection. The meeting place was to be the exact spot where together they had killed the lion. It was chosen deliberately to remind those present of their former unity and how well it had served them. Aniah saw no reason to include the women, but Zan insisted that his plan could not succeed without their participation. Zan personally visited all of the five tribes, and was well received by every one of them. Even the truculent Hru chieftains made an honored place for him at their fires. Since his return with Dael, Zan’s prestige had soared, so that there was none save Aniah who was more highly respected among the peoples.
There was little resistance to the idea of a meeting once the elders of the clans became acquainted with the impending danger of an attack by the wasp men—although each and every one protested against the presence of females. Zan had a special reason for wishing to include them. Not least was his certain knowledge that the women hated the feud with all of their hearts, and not much less the masculine vanity that fed it. They would tip the scales in favor of Zan’s project, and be a force for moderation among their men. “Bring no weapons,” Zan told them, “but carry some wood there and bring food if you have any. I swear you will not be sorry.”
When the tribesmen heard that Aniah favored the council, women included, and that he himself promised to be there, all sensed that they dared not stay behind while great actions were being concluded. So everybody went.
They met when the sun was high in the sky. (It was useless to expect men at war with each other to come weaponless at night, vulnerable to any treachery.) The men approached proudly, their women behind them. Character was deeply carved on every brow. They were mostly old warriors like Aniah, their hair whitened by age, and like him lean and muscular and covered with scars. From the Hru came Morda, the haggard chief who, long ago, had turned his back on Zan to kick dust in his direction. Morda had regained his strength and with it his haughty insolence. His shaggy brother stood beside him—a ragged branch of the same tree. One chief had a hideous gap where his eye once had been. He was the one that Thal said had been mauled by a lion. Another, his side teeth long since broken out by the blow of a club, exhibited a black hole in their place. Still another lacked a hand, which had been taken from him when he had been a prisoner—until Thal and Chul had succeeded in rescuing him from his tormentors. None of these battle-scarred men was handsome, but every one of them possessed the noble beauty residing in pride, honor, and manly dignity. The women, too, bore themselves with a statuesque dignity appropriate to their new role.
Zan-Gah appeared cloaked with the skin of the lion he had slain. Holding no spear, but only the staff that signified that he meant to speak, he stood before them like a stately pillar. He had grown taller since any there had seen him. Difficult trials had lent him b
oth dignity and wisdom, and all waited eagerly to hear what he would say. None could look at Zan-Gah without detecting his deep sense of purpose and resolve. In the lion hunt, one man commented, Zan-Gah had stood behind his father, but now Thal and Chul were standing behind Zan-Gah. They also noticed that Siraka-Finaka had come. She and some other women were building a fire. Zan assisted them, anxious that they should not be perceived only as servants.
The meeting began and all were silent when Zan-Gah started to speak. He stood in their presence like a tall, slender tree in front of a group of ancient, gnarled oaks. Long he remained there wondering how to begin. “Friends, brothers, and sisters,” he finally said. “On this very spot we all united together for our good against a dangerous wild beast. Although I was fortunate enough to strike the fatal blow, and though I wear the animal’s skin today, it was our cooperation alone that made that victory possible. We had differences then too, but we understood that it was necessary to work together to achieve our ends. It is necessary again!”
He told them of his captivity with the wasp people and how their army had pursued them to the great cleft in the earth. The listeners learned of the feats of Chul with wonder. Chul the giant blushed in spite of himself beneath his ragged beard, so that some smiled and all huffed out grunts of approval. Zan continued: “The wasp men will not give up. I know for a fact that they mean to kill us or carry us off. That is why I beg you to unite—to put aside your ancient quarrels and thoughts of honor in a foolish cause. For when was honor to be gained from stupidity—and is it not the worst stupidity to fight your friends and leave yourself naked to your enemies?”
Zan-Gah: A Prehistoric Adventure Page 11