The Boy with the Bronze Axe

by Kathleen Fidler

  A midden heap was built up round the outer walls of the settlement. It contained limpet shells, animal bones, scraps of food mingled with ashes from the peat fires. An unpleasant odour rose from it, which might have been worse but for the peat ash, but the people of Skara did not appear to notice it. Perhaps they had lived beside it for too long. The midden served to strengthen the stone walls of the huts against the strong west wind.

  In a hut near the wall Lemba the potter had his workshop. He was busy shaping the wet clay into dishes and bowls. With his thumb he made a narrow lip round each bowl, marking it with the claw of a bird. Then he drew a pattern of lines. Where other huts had a stone dresser Lemba’s had a stone oven. Below it was a fire of glowing red peats. Clay dishes had been set to dry beside it. They watched Lemba stack them into the oven to bake them into earthenware. He looked round when at last he became aware of the children.

  “Hullo, Tenko!” he said with a friendly grin. “Are you coming to learn how to make bowls?”

  Tenko smiled back but shook his head. “No, I am going with Kali and Brockan to herd the flocks. You are a good potter, though. I like this bowl very much.” Tenko picked up one with a pattern of spiral lines upon it. “I have never seen a pattern like this before.”

  “No. That is a pattern out of my own head. I do not always keep to the old patterns of my tribe. I like to try new things,” Lemba told him.

  “I wish I had a bowl like that,” Tenko said as he handed it back.

  “Some day, maybe, I will make you one like it, when you have done a deed which deserves it,” Lemba said lightly. He looked hard at Tenko. “But you are carrying arrows under your arm? That does not look much like a herdsman.”

  For a moment Tenko looked sad. “In my land over the sea my father was a great hunter and he was teaching me all the things he knew. Now he is no more and Birno has become my father, so I must learn new ways.” Then, like the boy he was, he grew cheerful again. “All the same, there may be a chance to do some hunting of the creature that is attacking the flocks, once I have made a new bow.”

  “Good hunting then, Tenko!” Lemba laughed. He continued drawing patterns on the newly-made bowls.

  Other men were ready to set out with Birno over the grasslands to the east.

  “They are going to work with my father at hewing a new stone for the temple to the Sun God which they are building at Brodgar,” Kali explained.

  Before they left, the stoneworkers greeted Tenko. “Good day, son of Birno.” Tenko spoke respectfully to them all in turn. Only Tresko and Korwen held aloof, scowling. Tenko took no notice of them.

  The children left the village and went to the stone-walled sheep paddocks. The animals were bleating inside, anxious to go out to the new pastures.

  “Help me to lift the stone away, Tenko,” Kali asked.

  Together they shifted the large stone slab that did duty for a gate. The sheep came pouring through the gap. Lifting their arms and shouting, the children urged the flock along and over the low hill towards the Loch of Skaill. Now and again they stopped to let the sheep rest and nibble at the grass. They topped a rise and came on the shining, placid Loch of Skaill. On the shore and leaning over the lake was a clump of osiers.

  “There are the long shoots for your bow,” Kali pointed out. She took a flint knife from the bag she carried with her and handed it to Tenko. Tenko ran down to the willow bushes and carefully selected two of the shoots which looked supple. He cut them out near the base and then bent them across his knee to test their springiness.

  “Yes, these will do,” he told Kali.

  Kali was carrying the lengths of animal sinews in her bag. She selected one that was smooth and even. Tenko nodded approval. With his flint knife he notched one of the osier wands at each end. Then he inserted the end of the tendon into it and knotted it so it would not slip out again. He did the same with the other end. Now he had a stringed bow. He pulled it gently apart and inserted an arrow. Yes, it was springy enough. He took aim at a clump of heather. In a second his arrow was quivering, point buried in the centre of the clump.

  “It is not so strong as the bow I had, but it shoots truly and it will serve,” Tenko said.

  They turned southwards, driving the flock before them. The land rose in green slopes curling round between two low hills.

  “That is Gyran,” Kali said, pointing out the easterly hill. “We will pasture the sheep on the slopes this side. There are plenty of young heather shoots for them to eat, besides the grass. We will let the sheep go free now.”

  The sheep began to scatter over the hill slope. The children sat down on a little outcrop of rocks to watch them. Below them the land sloped to the Loch of Skaill. When they looked westward they could see the beehive roofs of Skara and the peat smoke curling up from them. Behind Skara lay the wide curve of the Bay of Skaill. The white sand of its southern shore gleamed in the sun and the grey slaty rocks of its northern point stood out against the blue-grey sky. Headland after headland stretched away till lost in the mist, the deep blue sea curling and creaming at their rocky feet. The sun mounting high in the heavens warmed the grass. From the clumps of flowering gorse came the hum of bees. Kali and Brockan stretched themselves on the grass, but not Tenko.

  “I am going to practise shooting with my new bow. Then I shall be ready,” he said darkly.

  “Ready for what?” Brockan asked him.

  “For the enemy that takes the lambs.” Tenko had not forgotten Birno’s words.

  He selected a soft clump of gorse about two hundred paces away. He fitted an arrow to his bow and looked carefully along the shaft. Then he let fly. The bow twanged. The arrow struck very near the centre of the gorse bush.

  “That was a fine shot, Tenko!” Brockan exclaimed, sitting up to watch.

  “It will need to be better still,” Tenko replied critically.

  “You stay there! I’ll fetch your arrows back,” Brockan offered.

  For close on an hour Tenko practised with his new bow and Brockan ran backwards and forwards with his shot arrows.

  “Would you like a shot?” Tenko asked Brockan at last.

  Brockan’s eyes sparkled. “Could I? Could I?” he asked eagerly.

  “Stand erect, a little sideways like this. Hold the bow at the full stretch of your left arm. Fit the arrow with the point to the middle of the bow and the notch at the end of it into the cord. Now draw back the cord as far as you can till the bow bends. Keep your elbow up! Good! Now let the bow go with a snap.”

  Brockan did as he was told. The arrow fell a little short of the bush but in a direct line.

  “That is good, very good! Now, try for yourself. I will fetch the arrows back.”

  Brockan glowed with delight. He listened to all Tenko said and tried hard to shoot straight. A word of praise now and again from Tenko flushed his face with joy. His admiration for Tenko was growing fast into a brotherly affection. Kali watched them both with a gentle smile on her lips. She kept casting a wary eye upon the straggling sheep. They were nibbling away contentedly, the lambs following their mothers and digging under them for their warm milk.

  At last Tenko retrieved the final arrow and he and Brockan flung themselves down on the ground beside Kali. She cast a glance at the sun. It was high overhead.

  “It is time to eat,” she decided. From the skin bag she drew out pieces of cold meat and a handful of mussels gathered from the shore that morning.

  They were finished eating when there was a whirr of wings over the hill behind them. A sudden wind fanned their faces.

  “What is that?” Brockan cried in alarm.

  A huge dark bird was planing down over the flock. Its neck was outstretched and its great claws were ready to grab.

  “It’s an eagle!” Kali cried, terrified.

  Tenko sprang to his feet and in one swift movement he fitted an arrow to his bow. Then the eagle pounced!

  There was one ewe with newly-born twin lambs. She did her best to defend them, stamping at the eagle
and lowering her horns at him but she could not keep the eagle from both lambs at once. He was swifter and dug his claws into the neck of a tiny lamb before she could wheel to defend it. The poor little creature gave a horrible screech. The eagle began to rise in the air. Tenko shot his arrow, but by then the eagle was rising so swiftly that his aim missed.

  “Oh, why did you not shoot more quickly?” Kali cried.

  “Because the ewe was between me and the eagle,” Tenko said. “I might have killed the ewe. I had to wait till the bird rose.”

  “Oh, the poor little lamb!” Kali wept. “It will be torn to pieces by that great bird. What will my father say when he hears we have lost a lamb? And that terrible bird will not be satisfied with one lamb!”

  “What did you say?” Tenko grabbed her by the wrist.

  “The eagle will come back for another lamb. When he takes one so easily it makes him bold.”

  “Then we will wait for him,” Tenko said grimly. “We will hope the eagle does come back today.”

  “We may have to wait a long time. He will have to eat that lamb first,” Kali said unhappily.

  “He may have a family to feed. It is the time of year when young birds are hatched. In that case he may need more meat,” Tenko told them. “In the craggy mountains of my land there are many eagles. They build their nests among the rocks.”

  “There is another island with great hills which lies to the south. The eagle could have come from there. If he did, it will take him a long time to come back again.” Kali shook her head as if she doubted that the eagle would ever return.

  “He has strong wings and an eagle is swift in flight. He made an easy kill here. He will remember that. Birds have long memories for places where they get their food,” Tenko said wisely. “It is not the first time he has taken lambs from your flock. We will still wait and watch. We will bring the sheep closer in beside us.”

  They went round the flock herding them in closer to the rocks where they had been sitting. Kali went down to the bank where a little stream burst forth and brought back water for them all in earthenware cups. Then they settled down to wait.

  The sun was westering. The little flock seemed uneasy. It was as though they knew one kill had been made and they waited for another. The ewe which had lost her lamb bleated constantly and would not let the other twin lamb out of her sight. There was anguish in her bleating. The clouds began to blow in from the sea and to cast dark shadows on the hill of Gyran. Kali shivered when the warm sun disappeared behind them. Tenko watched the sky to the southward. It was to the south the eagle had flown. Brockan watched too, but he looked more to the east. It was Brockan who first saw the hovering speck in the sky.

  “Look, Tenko!” he said in a whisper, almost as if the great bird could hear him.

  The speck grew larger, nearer. Tenko stood up quietly and fitted an arrow to his bow. He shielded his eyes to watch. Nothing must impair his aim this time.

  “Keep very still, Brockan! Take care not to cry out, Kali!” Tenko cautioned her. “I want the eagle to come in close and settle on its lamb. When its eyes are fixed on the lamb, then I will shoot.”

  The speck had grown into a huge winged bird. The beat of its wings echoed down the hill. The flock sensed the approach of its enemy and faced uneasily this way and that. Ewes tried to gather their lambs under their bodies and the lambs sucked frantically at their mothers, trying to draw comfort and security from the warm taste of their milk.

  The flapping of the wings ceased. The eagle hovered a hundred feet above the flock, eyes looking this way and that. The little group by the rocks remained as if carved from stone.

  Slowly the eagle planed down till he was just a few feet above the frightened flock which kept turning about, clustering close for greater safety. Suddenly the fierce eyes spied a single lamb on the outskirts of the flock nearest to the watchers. With outstretched claws the eagle dropped like a stone on the lamb. In that instant Tenko’s bow twanged.

  The eagle’s claws were already searching the wool of the lamb to get a firm hold. For a second the bird raised his head and looked towards the children. In that moment the arrow transfixed the eagle’s throat. He fell, a mass of beating, quivering wings, among the sheep.

  Tenko dropped his bow and snatched the bronze axe from the deep pocket of his deerskin tunic. Another second, and he was striding among the flock. The eagle was lying in a circle of grass. The sheep had scattered from him on all sides and then turned to watch their fallen enemy. Blood welled from the place in his neck where the arrow still quivered. As Tenko approached the eagle gave a feeble flutter, trying to raise himself on his wings and to strike at his enemy. Tenko rushed upon him with the axe and struck one blow.

  Under the eagle’s claws the lamb still squealed. Tenko cautiously prodded the eagle with the axe to make sure he was really dead. The great bird did not stir. Then Tenko looked at the lamb. The claws were tangled in the curly wool but, save for a scratch, the lamb was unhurt. Gently Tenko pulled the wool clear of the extended claws. The lamb bleated piteously, fearing yet another enemy. A ewe bleated in answer. Tenko examined the little creature and then set it down gently on its spindly legs. It made one frantic rush at the ewe and thrust its head beneath her for comforting milk. She turned and nuzzled it.

  Kali and Brockan came running up.

  “He’s dead! The eagle’s dead!” Brockan cried, jumping up and down. “That was a wonderful shot, Tenko!”

  “You’ve saved the lamb! He’s still alive. Tenko, you are indeed a hunter,” Kali told him with great respect.

  Tenko was pleased, but he tried not to show it. “We must take the eagle back with us to show your father at Skara,” he said.

  “It is a great weight of a bird. It will be heavy to carry,” Kali told him doubtfully.

  “Nevertheless I am going to carry him,” Tenko declared. “You take my bow and arrows, Brockan, and you carry my axe and cloak, Kali.”

  He pulled the arrow from the eagle’s throat. He took the still-warm bird by the legs and heaved it on to his back. The eagle’s head flopped helplessly.

  “Round up the sheep. We will go now,” Tenko said in a voice of triumph.

  When they reached the fields above Skara they penned the sheep. Tenko, with aching shoulders, dead weary but still triumphant, staggered into the meeting place. Kali and Brockan followed, bearing his weapons with the pride of those returning from a war. The men were home from their work at the stone quarry. They jumped to their feet at the sight of Tenko.

  “What have you there, Tenko?” Birno cried.

  Tenko flung the eagle from his aching shoulders. “Here is the killer of your lambs! He will kill no more.”

  “An eagle. The lad has killed an eagle!” The cry went up all round the meeting place. Women and children came running from the houses.

  “You have done well, my son!” Birno declared with pride.

  “It was a good wind that blew you to our shore, Tenko,” Lokar told him.

  The men pressed round Tenko, patting him on his shoulders. Only Tresko and Korwen held aloof.

  Lemba the potter left the circle round Tenko. He dashed to his workshop and came running back with a bowl in his hand. It was the one with the spiral markings that Tenko had admired that morning.

  “Take it, Tenko,” he said, thrusting the bowl into Tenko’s hand. “You have today done a deed which deserves it.”

  Tenko thanked Lemba warmly, and then he turned to Birno. “Birno, I give the eagle to you and to Lokar to do with as you please. I only ask that I may have six feathers from the wings and the two claws.”

  Birno plucked six feathers from the wings and with his flint knife he cut off the two claws. “They are yours, Tenko. What will you do with them?”

  “Three feathers I will give to Brockan to wear as a headdress.” He handed them to Brockan. “The other three shall be my headdress, so that men everywhere will know we are brothers.”

  Brockan clasped his feathers with pride and lifted eyes
full of brotherly love to Tenko.

  “And the claws?” Birno asked.

  “I give one to Lemba to use when he draws patterns on his clay bowls, because he has shown me friendship.”

  Lemba took Tenko’s hand warmly. “I shall draw still better patterns with this claw.”

  “And the other claw?” Birno asked.

  “The other claw I give to Kali to wear as a necklace, so she may never forget the day of the eagle.”

  Kali lifted her warm brown eyes to Tenko. For a moment they looked at each other in silence and in kindness as Kali received his gift.

  4. The Day of Korwen’s Revenge

  Although it was late spring and the hillsides were warming to the sun, at night there was a keen air that made men seek the peat fires on their hearths. The families gathered round, sitting on stone slabs that served them for chairs. Birno’s hut was the biggest, so often the Skara folk came in friendly fashion to sit round his hearth. Especially they came if Lokar was there and could be persuaded to tell them stories of their tribe. Then the children and Stempsi sat on their beds and listened too.

  No one was ever idle. Their fingers were always at work. Birno was the best carver in stone on the whole island. The children searched the beach for big round pebbles for him. These he ground against other stones till they were quite round, and then he polished them with sand till they were smooth. Then, with a flint knife, he chipped pleasing patterns on them. The men of the tribe carried these round carved stones as symbols of the Sun when they went in procession to a festival at the Ring of Brodgar.

  Some of the men chipped and polished stones to make axes and hammers: others shaped small pieces of bone with their flint knives to make needles and awls and pins to fasten their sheepskin cloaks. Stempsi sewed together sheepskin tunics for her family, piercing them with a fine bone needle and threading them with sinews drawn from the sheep. Kali sat cross-legged beside Brockan and Tenko, making headbands of soft lambskin. Into these she fastened the eagle’s feathers. They were for Tenko and Brockan to wear when they took part in the great procession to the Ring of Brodgar. Tenko and Brockan were busy too. They were making necklaces of the teeth of sheep. They pierced a hole through the root of each tooth and threaded them together. Brockan’s necklace was to be for Stempsi but Tenko’s was for Kali. Only Lokar’s hands were still. He sat on the biggest stone slab and peered into the fire as though he could see strange things in the flames and smoke. Now and again he turned his head to look searchingly at Tenko sitting on the bed he shared with Brockan.