The Boy with the Bronze Axe

by Kathleen Fidler

  “Tenko may wear his new tunic with pride, but he will not wear it for long. He will be sorry that men look twice at him when he walks in the procession. I have thoughts in my head that I will keep till the day of the Festival of the Sun. Be content till then, Korwen.”

  In preparation for the longest day of the year the tribe of Skara had many things to do. The previous day they cast off their old tunics and rushed into the sea. They rubbed their bodies with white sand till the skin was reddened. This was the ceremony of cleansing.

  Next came the ceremony of painting. The women had prepared pigments in little basins made from the vertebrae of the whale. There was a yellow paint made from a clay ochre, a red paint made by crushing pieces of rusty-looking rock, and blue paint from a flax plant.

  The men dipped wads of sheep’s wool into these paints and rubbed them over their faces and bodies, making bold patterns. Tenko watched Birno, not knowing what to do.

  “Come, Tenko! Smear on the red paint.” Birno offered him the wad.

  Tenko shook his head. “In the forest we did not paint ourselves. The smell of the paint would give us away to the animals.”

  “Did you not even paint yourselves in honour of the Festival of the Sun?” Birno asked.

  “The men painted themselves only if they went to war with another tribe. That was to make them look more frightening. Also it showed to which tribe they belonged. Here on the island you do not go to battle, do you?”

  Birno shook his head. “Not now! We all live in our own villages and look after our own flocks. Their meat gives us enough to eat. We have no need to fight, so we live in peace.”

  Tenko considered Birno’s words gravely. “I think that is a good thing, that you live in peace.”

  “You said your tribe of hunters painted themselves to show to which tribe they belonged?”

  “Yes.”

  “We too make a sign on our chests to show we belong to the tribe of Skara. See this!” Birno opened his tunic. Upon his chest was daubed a round red circle. “It is the mark of the Sun God. All our people carry it. If you do not wish to paint the rest of your body, Tenko, will you bear this mark to show that you belong to our tribe? I ask you to do this because you are now my son.”

  “Because you ask it, Birno, I will bear your mark on my chest,” Tenko told him.

  Birno gave Tenko a little cup of the red paint and a swab of the wool. Tenko left the rest of the men and climbed over the rocky reef. When he was out of sight he opened his tunic and painted the sign of the sun upon his chest. He sat looking out to sea till the paint was dry, and then he drew his tunic about him and went back to the rest of the tribe.

  The women had been busy in the houses. They had roasted great joints of beef and mutton and wrapped them in the leaves of plants and put them in skin bags. The waterskins had been filled at the spring. The women polished their necklaces of bone beads and combed their long hair with bone combs till it lay straight and sleek. Now all was ready for the morning and they lay down to sleep.

  At sunrise the people of Skara rose. In Birno’s hut Stempsi was astir first. She and Kali went to milk their cows. They returned with the bowls of milk and Stempsi set them to heat on the glowing peats. There would be no meat eaten till after the Festival of the Sun. This was a law of the tribesmen. Except for a drink of milk they must come fasting to the meeting place at Brodgar. Some tribes came many miles from the east and south of the island. They made the journey the day before and camped for the night near the narrow neck of land that ran between the two great lakes of Stenness and Harray. There the tribe from Skara would join them.

  Stempsi laid ready the new tunics that she and Kali had made.

  “Today Tenko will wear the new tunic I have made for him,” Kali said with pride.

  Stempsi gave a little sigh. “May it bring him joy and not misfortune.”

  Kali caught at her mother’s hand. “How could a tunic bring him misfortune?”

  “I do not know. Think no more of it, child. They were stupid words that came from my mouth. Come, let us wake the others.” Stempsi lost the strange look that had come into her eyes and spoke briskly. All the same, Kali looked troubled. It was said among the tribe that Stempsi had “the sight,” the gift of seeing into the future that her grandfather Lokar possessed.

  The menfolk donned their new garments and in a moment Kali’s fears were forgotten. Birno looked striking in his red, blue and yellow paint. Brockan was wearing his plume of eagle’s feathers. So was Tenko. He stood erect in the fine new tunic with its pattern of gleaming white teeth. Kali felt proud to see him wearing her handiwork.

  “Come! Drink your milk!” Stempsi called to them. Into the big bowl they each dipped a smaller bowl and drank.

  In all the stone houses of Skara the same thing was happening. The folk drank their bowl of milk and then made their way to the meeting place in the village. Lokar was there already, his staff in his hand, seated on a large stone. He was saving his strength till all the tribe assembled. Although they had less than seven miles to walk to the ring of Brodgar, it was a long way for an old man whose limbs were becoming feeble. Besides that, once they had reached the ring, Lokar would have to stand for some hours.

  At last the tribe was assembled, old and young. Birno came to the meeting place carrying six beautifully carved stone balls. These were the symbols of the sun belonging to the tribe of Skara. Some of them had been carved by men of the tribe long since dead, but two of them had been carved by Birno himself. Birno looked with pride at the last stone ball he had carved. The carving on it was so deep that the pattern stood out in spikes like a hedgehog. It had taken Birno a whole year to carve, sitting by his fire at nights. The spikes represented the rays of the sun. He carried the symbols to the waiting crowd.

  Birno handed the oldest sign of the sun to Lokar. It was a beautiful pebble that had been chipped and polished to a perfect sphere. He handed another to Lemba the potter; the third to Salik the herdsman. Over the fourth Birno hesitated. Tresko set him with his glittering dark eyes as though daring Birno to refuse to give him one of the symbols. Birno recognised the seething hatred in Tresko. He would do nothing to placate him. Instead he turned and handed the stone ball to a young man, Ramna.

  “You have worked hard at the quarrying, Ramna. This is your reward.”

  Ramna held the engraved ball high above his head in a gesture of worship to the sun. Tresko’s frown deepened, but there were still two symbols left in Birno’s hands. Birno turned to Tenko.

  “I give this sign of the sun to Tenko to carry in the procession,” he announced in a loud voice. “He has done many things for our tribe. He killed the eagle which raided our flocks, he made us a tree-boat and he brought the whale to our shores.”

  There were shouts of approval from the tribe, but Tresko stood aloof, glowering. “He is not one of the tribe of Skara,” he objected.

  “He is one of the tribe because I have taken him for my son. Remember, Tresko, that as head of the tribe of Skara I have the right to say who shall carry the signs of the sun at the midsummer festival,” Birno rebuked Tresko.

  Tresko’s frown deepened, but he said no more.

  “Are we ready now?” Birno asked briskly. “Take my arm, Lokar, and we will lead the way.”

  They went by the Loch of Skaill and then along a sheep trail over the slightly rising ground. They passed a quarry in the side of the low hill. Birno pointed to it.

  “That is the quarry of Bookan. That is where I split off the great stone for the Ring of Brodgar. From here we dragged it with ropes of hide to the ring of stones. That is the stone we are going to raise today,” he told Tenko with pride.

  The land narrowed. On either side they could see the placid waters of two great lakes, Stenness and Harray. The long neck of land between them was holy land to the tribes of Orkney. On a mound rose the temple they were building to the sun. The gaunt slabs looked immense and awe-inspiring, outlined against the sky. As they approached the circle the men of Ska
ra stopped as one man and they looked up at it with reverence.

  The Ring of Brodgar was to be a circle of giant stones when it was finished. These stones were slabs of solid rock about ten feet high and over a foot thick. Their bases were buried deep in holes in the ground. Their tops had been split in a diagonal line that seemed to make them point to the sky.

  “There are only twenty stones standing yet. When the Ring of Brodgar is finished there will be sixty stones,” Birno explained to Tenko. “It takes many moons to hew and shape a stone in the quarry and to drag it to Brodgar. I have been working in the quarry all my life and I have set up only four of the stones. Today the fifth stone is ready and we shall hoist it into its place. It is good that we should do this at the Festival of the Sun. After that we shall make our sacrifice and then we shall all eat together, the people of Orkney.”

  Tresko was listening. At the word sacrifice his eyes glittered unpleasantly.

  The ring of stones was surrounded by a deep ditch thirty feet wide, partly filled with water.

  “It took many years for the men of Orkney to dig this ditch. They laboured hard from dawn till sunset and grew old and bent with the work,” Lokar told them. “It was told me by my father and his father before him, and so for many generations. Yet not a man grudged giving his health and strength in the service of the sun.”

  There were two ways across the moat directly facing each other, one at the north-west and one at the south-east. In these places the earth had been banked up to make a road twelve feet wide. At the north-west crossing Birno halted and lined up his people. Only the men would cross into the sacred ring. The women stayed on the far side of the moat. They would watch everything from there. When Birno had formed the procession to his liking he gave the word, “Lift up your symbols of the sun!”

  The six leaders held the carved stone balls high in their hands. Some strange compulsion made Tenko take his bronze axe from his pocket and lift it high in the air too. It flashed brightly in the sunshine. Tresko scowled at him. Even Birno looked at him inquiringly.

  “Why do you do that, Tenko?”

  “Because this axe is the sign of the people from whom I came, who also worship the Sun. You are kin to us because our speech is almost the same. I have vowed this axe to the service of my new tribe.”

  “It is good,” Lokar said approvingly. “That axe is the sign of things to come, of a new way of life. The Ring of Brodgar belongs to the past and to the future too. Let Tenko carry his axe proudly.”

  “It shall be as you say, Lokar. Men of Skara, let us go into the ring,” Birno gave his command.

  The company advanced across the earthen bridge with the signs of the sun held aloft. Tenko’s bronze axe flashed fire when the sun’s rays caught it. Silently they joined the procession streaming from the south-east. Three times the tribes of Orkney marched round the Ring of Brodgar and each time the men passed the highest stone of all, they lifted the signs of the sun which they carried and shouted loudly. Tenko waved his bronze axe and shouted too.

  The march over, the great work of erecting the new stone began. It lay on the ground, one end of it close to a deep hole ready to receive it. There was a sloping channel hollowed out towards the hole. The other end of the stone pointed out towards the moat. Between it and the moat was a rough platform of slabs of stone. On one end of this platform rested a longer thinner stone with its end chiselled and sharpened. This was the giant lever.

  Men came running from every tribe, carrying long ropes of cowhide, knotted and strong. Two men dug with bone shovels and scraped away the hearth in a hollow just below the outward end of the stone. When the hollow was deep enough the men with the cowhide ropes slipped their nooses round the pointed end of the great stone. There were six long ropes: three to pull the stone upward, and three stretching in the opposite direction to steady the stone from toppling over once it had slipped into the hole and was standing erect. Teams of men from all the tribes manned the ropes. Six of the strongest men mounted the stone platform. Birno climbed up with them. It was his duty to oversee the work and to shout commands. The six men seized the lever stone and thrust the pointed end into the hollow below the stone that was to be hoisted in the ring. All eyes were on Birno.

  “Heave!” he cried to the men at the stone lever. They pressed their weight down on their end of the lever.

  “Pull!” he shouted to the men on the far ropes. At once they began to haul. The men on Birno’s side of the stone held their ropes slackly. They would be ready to take the strain of the stone’s weight when Birno gave the word.

  The great stone was levered upward a few inches. The men on the ropes opposite pulled with might and main. Slowly the end of the giant stone began to rise. When it was about two feet in the air Birno called out, “Halt! Hold fast, everyone! Do not let go, but do not pull.”

  It was necessary to lower the stone platform so that the men could get the lever at a sharper angle. A big stone wedge was placed to hold the lever in position. Stones were lifted from the platform. This was a tricky business, for the men holding the lever had to step down to a lower level and yet keep the lever from sliding. They were all experienced in handling the lever and there was no mishap. The lowered platform gave them greater leverage.

  “Heave! Pull!” Birno cried again, watching both teams levering and hauling. Under Birno’s commands they worked in rhythm together, so that the thrust and haul happened at the same moment. It was perfect timing. With each effort the outward end of the great stone rose higher. All at once the stone seemed to move backward of its own accord. The end of it on the ground was sliding into the funnel-like opening of the hole. As it slipped in, it became upright. This was the most difficult part of the operation; Birno had been waiting for this moment.

  “Pull on your ropes! Take the strain!” he called sharply to the team on the slack ropes. When the great stone began to settle into its hole there was always the danger that if the pull on it by the first rope team was too strong it might topple over backwards. The moment the end of the stone fell into the hole there must be an equal pull on the ropes in both directions to keep it upright. The men tightened their grip on all the ropes.

  “Now!” Birno cried as the end of the stone dropped into the bottom of the hole with a thud and the stone rose upwards. It wobbled dangerously for a moment but the ropes tightened on both sides and held it steady. It settled into the hole and remained erect. A shout of joy broke from all the men.

  “Keep hold of the ropes. Keep a gentle pull on them. Do not let go yet!” Birno cried as the cheering died down. The men obeyed, keeping an equal strain on both sides of the stone. With bone shovels other men lifted earth and gravel and packed it tightly round the base of the stone in the hole. They tramped it down till the whole socket was solid and firm. Birno went up to the stone and tried to push it in either direction. It did not move an inch. It was as though it had grown out of the ground like a tree.

  “It is good!” Birno pronounced. “The great stone stands of itself. Let go the hold on your ropes!”

  Cheering broke out afresh among the men of Orkney. Kali watched her father with pride, but her glance kept turning to Tenko. He had taken his place on the rope and hauled with the rest. He had obeyed Birno’s commands with joy. At this moment of achievement he felt that he indeed belonged to the tribe of Skara.

  “It is well done, my sons! The Circle of Brodgar grows each year,” Lokar spoke with satisfaction. “Today is a great Festival of the Sun. Our temple will one day be complete, like those temples in far-off lands of which our forefathers have told us. All our tribes are children of the sun wherever those temples are built. By the ring of standing stones shall we be known. Let us now lift our arms in the chant to the sun and then we will eat.”

  There came an unexpected interruption from Tresko. “Should we not make the sacrifice first, Lokar, the blood sacrifice? The sacrifice will make the God of the Sun pleased with us.”

  Lokar was annoyed that Tresko should interrupt
. “Tresko, I will order matters in my own way.”

  “But in times past we have always made the sacrifice before we ate,” Tresko persisted. “Let us not depart from custom, lest the Sun God be angry.”

  The tribe of Skara was silent. They did not trust Tresko. They knew he was sly. Birno muttered under his breath. The tribes from the east of the island, however, sided with Tresko.

  “Yes, let us first make the sacrifice as we always do. Let the sacrifice be made, Lokar!” they shouted.

  Lokar saw that most of the people wished to make a sacrifice. Though he was not pleased, yet he must give them his consent. The blood of a lamb from the flock must be shed to satisfy them.

  “Very well! Make ready the sacrifice,” he told them.

  A long slab of thin stone like a table top was carried into the ring.

  “Have you a lamb for the sacrifice?” asked Lokar.

  “There is a lamb here, Lokar,” spoke one of the chiefs of the eastern tribes.

  “Let it be brought forward,” Lokar commanded.

  Tresko spoke again. “Wait! This year the sacrifice should be greater than a lamb. The God of the Sun has shown us favour. Our flocks have grown. We have never gone hungry. We have set up the greatest stone that has ever been brought to the Ring of Brodgar.”

  “True! It is true!” the crowd echoed about him.

  “Then we should make a special sacrifice this year,” Tresko told them.

  “Yes, yes! There should be a special sacrifice,” the people cried.

  Lokar looked angrily at Tresko and once again took the matter into his own hands. “Which of you has a calf or cow he can spare from his herd?”

  The tribesmen looked from one to another. “We have not brought our herds with us, Lokar, as you well know,” one chieftain said.

  Before Lokar could reply, Tresko spoke again. His voice was crafty, persuasive. “Perhaps the Sun God does not want a calf or cow. This time the God of the Sun demands the blood of one of us here present.”

  “No! No!” Lokar cried at once. “The Sun God does not ask for the blood of men. Our tribes have never sacrificed a man for longer than anyone can remember.”