"Of course," said Cuwignaka.
"Should we not get the kaiila?" I asked.
"It is better for such as we to go afoot," said Cuwignaka.
"But others will be mounted?" I asked.
"Yes," said Cuwignaka.
"Who will be coming?" I asked.
"The Isanna are now here," said Cuwignaka. "Many will come, from the Isbu, from the Casmu, from the Wismahi, from the Napoktan, from the Isanna."
"Who will select this pole?" I asked.
"The medicine chief of the dance," said Cuwignaka. "This year it is Cancega, of the Casmu." 'Cancega', here, I think, would be best translated as "Drum." More literally, it is a skin stretched over a hoop. The expression 'cega', itself, may refer to a kettle, a pot, a pail, a bucket, or so on. 'Cancega', then, in a sense, could be taken to mean such things as "Kettle Skin," or "Pot Skin." The translation "Drum," all things considered, seems to be best in this context.
"Who will cut down this pole," I asked, "chieftains?"
"No," laughed Cuwignaka. "How little you understand these things!"
I shrugged.
"Do you not understand the meaning of the pole?"
"No," I said.
"It is a pole," said Cuwignaka, "a great pole."
"Yes?" I said.
"Who, then, must begin its preparation for the great manhood dance?" asked Cuwignaka.
"I do not know," I said.
"A captive female," said Cuwignaka.
"Would a slave do?" I asked.
"That is ideal," said Cuwignaka, "provided she is not Kaiila."
"Has it been decided," I asked, "who will perform this crucial role in the ceremony?"
"Yes," said Cuwignaka. "A suitable slave has been selected."
In a few moments we had left the vicinity of the lodges and were making our way across the fields. We passed some kaiila herds. Too, we passed some small herds of stripped white women, huddled together. Each wore a beaded collar. These women were mostly brunettes. They had been brought in by the Isanna, with their kaiila. They had not been regarded as being desirable enough to be displayed in the procession of the Isanna. Boys, mounted on kaiila, watched over these herds, including those of the women. The boys carried rawhide ropes, and whips.
3
The Pole
"How beautiful she is," said Cuwignaka.
"Yes," I said.
My breath was almost taken away by the incredible beauty of the former Miss Millicent Aubrey-Welles, once a debutante from Pennsylvania. She was slender and lovely. She was fairly complexioned and had delicately beautiful and sensitive features. She was exquisitely feminine. The slavers who had originally selected her to wear a Gorean collar had known their business. She was dressed, and adorned, in all the colorful, glittering, striking barbaric richness, in all the impressiveness and splendor, in all the festive display, fit for feasts and dances, of a red-savage female. Even the daughters of chieftains, such as Bloketu, the daughter of Watonka, might have envied her the sumptuousness and glory of her raiment. Her long shirtdress of soft-tanned tabuk hide was almost white. So, too, were her knee-length leggings and moccasins. These things, too, were painted with designs, and fringed. Her hair, red, radiant in the sun, had been braided in the fashion of the red savages. It was tied with golden string. Necklaces of shells and beads, and ornaments and trinkets, and pierced coins, of gold and silver, hung about her neck. On her wrists, visible within the capelike sleeves of the shirtdress, were silver bracelets. To look at her one might not have thought she was a slave. To be sure, her wrists were tied behind her back, and on her throat, leading to riders on each side of her, were two rawhide tethers. Detectable, but inconspicuous among all this finery, thrust up under her chin, above the tethers, was a beaded collar. It was Canka's. It was to him that she, in the final analysis, belonged.
"That is Cancega," whispered Cuwignaka to me.
A man was now riding slowly forward, alone, toward some trees a few hundred yards away. Lines of such trees, in the Barrens, and low, sloping geodesics, watersheds, tend to mark, often, the location of the tiny streams which occur in the country. Such streams, in this area, would be tributary to the Lower, or Southern, Kaiila. At this time of year, of course, they would be little more than trickles of water. Indeed, at this time of year, a man could wade the Southern Kaiila. Later in the year, in Kantasawi, many small streams would be dry altogether and even major rivers, like the Southern Kaiila itself, would seem little more than pools of water in a riverbed. The body of Cancega, clad in little more than a breechclout and a roach of feathers, was covered with medicine paint. In his hand he carried a long, feathered medicine wand.
"The five high coups have already been taken," said Cuwignaka.
"What are they?" I asked.
"The young men, more than a hundred of them, selected from the bands, sent ahead days ago, as soon as the Pte were sighted, have ridden for the tree."
"I do not understand," I said.
"It is a race," said Cuwignaka. "They are lined up. The first five men who strike the tree, with their hand, or with a canhpi, a lance or coup stick, obtain high coups."
"Did Canka or Hci participate in this race?" I asked.
"No," said Cuwignaka. "Both of them, in former years, have obtained such a coup."
"The group is advancing," I said.
"We shall accompany them," said Cuwignaka.
We then walked along with the group, some mounted and some, like ourselves, on foot, who, in effect, were following Cancega.
"Cancega seems to be a very important fellow," I said.
"He is more important than you understand," said Cuwignaka. "At this time, during the festivals, he is in charge of the whole camp. We listen to him. We do what he says."
"He is, then," I said, "at this time, in effect, the chief of all the Kaiila."
"I do not think I would put it just that way," said Cuwignaka, somewhat defensively. "The civil chiefs, in deferring to him, are not really relinquishing their power."
"I see the distinction," I said. "Do all the Kaiila ever have but one chief?"
"Sometimes a war chief is elected," said Cuwignaka. "In a sense, then, he is the high chief."
"But a war chief cannot be a civil chief," I said.
"No," said Cuwignaka. "It is better, we think, to keep those things apart."
"That is interesting," I said.
"One may, of course, at different times, be a war chief and a civil chief," said Cuwignaka.
"I understand," I said.
"Sometimes a man is good at both," said Cuwignaka, "but they are still different things."
"I understand," I said.
"And, generally, I think," said Cuwignaka, "that it would be only a very unusual man who would be good at both."
"Perhaps," I said.
"They are very different sorts of things," said Cuwignaka.
"That seems to me right," I said.
In moments we, with the others, were splashing across a narrow, shallow stream. I could see pebbles in the bottom of this stream. The Southern, or Lower, Kaiila, like the other larger rivers in the Barrens, however, bearing witness to the accumulation of silts, would be brown and muddy.
On the other side of the stream Cancega, and most of his fellows, dismounted, their kaiila being held to the side.
Cancega, then, began a slow, shuffling dance. Two others, near him, also with roaches of feathers, shaking rattles, joined him. The focal point of this dance, which wove back and forth, in a fanlike motion, before it, was a high, white-barked tree. Cancega repeated, over and over, carrying the medicine wand, and dancing, "It is the tree." The other two fellows, who had joined him, with the rattles, would add a refrain, "It is tall and straight." This refrain, too, was sometimes echoed by those about us.
Winyela, her hands bound behind her, and her neck in the tethers, in her finery, watched.
I could see the marks of various weapons in the bark of the tree where, perhaps two or three days ago, the young men h
ad charged to it, to be the first to reach it, in their race for coups.
"It is the tree!" suddenly cried Cancega, rushing to the tree and striking it with the medicine wand.
"It is tall and straight!" shouted the two seconds, in the dance, and most of the others, as well, including my friend, Cuwignaka.
Two men rushed to Winyela and untied her hands. She was pushed forward, the tethers still on her neck, but now rather behind her.
A long-handled, single-bladed ax was pressed into her hands. It was a trade ax. Its back was blunted, for the driving of pegs, stakes and wedges. It was heavy for her.
"You should not be here," said a man to Cuwignaka. "This is no place for free women."
"I am a man," said Cuwignaka.
The man shrugged.
I looked about. To be sure, there were no women present, with the exception of the lovely Winyela.
She began, under the direction of Cancega, and others, to strike at the lower portions of the tree.
I wondered why there were no free women present. Could it be that something was to occur which was regarded as not being suitable, perhaps, for the sensibilities of free women?
Winyela continued to chop at the tree.
It was some twenty-five to thirty feet in height, but it was not, really, a large tree. Its trunk was slim and polelike, and surely only some eight to ten inches in width. A man, working with such a tool, would have felled it in a matter of moments. Winyela, of course, was neither a man nor a woodsman. She was only a lovely slave. Her hands were widely spaced on the ax handle, and her blows were short. Cancega and the others, interestingly, in spite of the fact that she was a slave, were patient with her. To be sure, she had enough sense not to beg to rest. The necklaces and ornaments she wore rustled and shimmered, making tiny sounds, as she labored. I supposed it was the first time in her life she had had such an implement in her hands. They are seldom used by debutantes from Pennsylvania nor, of course, by Gorean slave girls.
I saw Canka ride up, on his kaiila. He had come, apparently, from the camp. She looked at him, the tethers on her neck. He indicated that she should continue to work.
In a moment there was a cracking noise, and then, after a few more blows, a splintering, rending sound as the tree tipped, and then, its branches striking the earth, fell. Five last blows were struck, cutting the last fibers and wood, and the trunk, freed, laid level, a yard above the ground, held in place by branches and foliage.
The men grunted with approval. The ax was removed from Winyela's hands and she was dragged back and knelt, her knees closely together, on the ground. The two men who held her tethers now stood beside her, the slack in the tethers, looped, now taken up, the rawhide loops in their fists.
"What occurs now?" I asked Cuwignaka.
"Watch," said he to me.
Several of the men, now, under the direction of Cancega, began to remove the branches and bark from the felled tree. Two forks were left, one about eighteen feet high and the other about twenty-three feet high. This was to allow for the pole later being set in the earth, within the enclosure of the dance, set among its supporting stakes, to a depth of some seven or eight feet. These forks would then be, respectively, about ten and fifteen feet high.
The slim trunk of the tree, with its forks, stripped of its bark, was now long, smooth and white.
It was set in two stout tripods of branches, about a yard above the ground.
Paint was brought forth, in a small clay vessel. The girl, too, was again brought forward.
It was she, herself, with the paint, the slave, who must proclaim that the pole was Kaiila. In this type of application of paint, on wood, over a large surface, or bands of a large surface, a brush of chopped, twisted grass is used. The paint itself was red. This red was probably obtained from powdered earths or clays. It may also, of course, have been obtained from crushed rock, containing oxides of iron. Some reds, too, may be obtained from boiled roots.
Winyela, in her finery, the beautiful, delicate, red-haired, white slave girl, under the direction of Cancega, medicine chief of the summer camp of all the Kaiila, carefully, obediently, frightened, applied the red paint. "It is Kaiila," chanted many of the men about, as she did this. Thrice did Winyela, with the brush, as the pole was turned in the tripods, scarletly band the rotated surface. "It is Kaiila," chanted the men. She was then drawn back, the paint and brush removed from her, and again knelt, her knees closely together, the two tethers on her throat.
The three scarlet bands of paint were bright on the white pole. Scarlet bands, in number from one to five, are commonly used by Kaiila warriors to mark their weapons, in particular their lances and arrows. To this mark, or marks, then, will be added the personal design, or pattern, of the individual warrior. An arrow then, say, may be identified not only as Kaiila, but, within the tribe, or band, as the arrow of a particular warrior.
The Kaiila, incidentally, in the Barrens, are generally known as the "Cutthroat tribe." The bands, then, generally by outsiders, and usually even among the Kaiila themselves, are supposed to have this sort of significance. I have met Kaiila, however, who have denied this entire line of interpretation. They call my attention to the fact that the Kaiila themselves seldom, among themselves, think of themselves as the "Cutthroat tribe." They think of themselves as being the Kaiila, or the people of the Kaiila. Similarly they point out that a symbolic representation of a cut throat should surely be a single slash, not one or more encircling bands. The true origin, then, of the encircling bands, I suppose, is lost in history. The bands, incidentally, are usually three in number. This suggests to me that they might originally have been thought to be phallic in significance. The number three, as is well known, is often thought to be a very special number. This probably has to do, of course, with the triune nature of the male genitals.
The paint was bright on the pole.
The three bands, each about four or five inches in width, and separated also by such distances, were painted in such a way that the bottom ring, or band, was about seven and a half to eight and a half feet from the base of the pole. Thus, when the pole was set in the ground, amidst its supporting stakes, these circles would be at the visible base, or root, of the pole. Too, they would be beneath the belt of an encircling dancer.
"It is Kaiila!" shouted the men.
The neck tethers were then removed from Winyela. I gathered that her part in the ceremony was now concluded.
Suddenly the girl screamed.
I tensed.
"Do not interfere," said Cuwignaka.
The hands of men, then, were at the necklaces about her throat, the ornaments. Her moccasins and leggings were removed. The golden strings were untied, and taken, which had bound her hair. Her hair was rapidly and deftly unbraided. The silver bracelets were slipped from her wrists. The soft-tanned shirtdress, with its designs, and beading and fringe, was then thrust over her head and pulled away. She now knelt absolutely naked, save for Canka's collar, among the men. Her knees were clenched closely together. Her hair, now loose, radiant in the sun, was spread and smoothed down her back. She was very white. She almost shone in the sun. Not only was she quite fairly complexioned but, prior to her being adorned in her finery, now removed from her, she had been washed, and clipped, and groomed and scrubbed, apparently, as thoroughly and carefully as a prize kaiila.
"She is quite beautiful," said Cuwignaka.
"Yes," I said.
The girl whimpered as the two rawhide tethers were now, again, tied on her throat, below Canka's collar.
"What is to be done with her now?" I asked.
"Observe," said Cuwignaka.
"Oh," cried the girl. One of the men, behind her, had thrown dust upon her. "Oh!" she sobbed, as two men, rather in front of her, one on each side, tossed, each, a double handful of dust upon her. She closed her eyes, blinking against the grit of the dust. Then she opened her eyes, and shrank back, for Cancega, with a shallow, rounded box, was crouching before her. The box contained some sort o
f black paste, or grease. She shuddered as Cancega, taking the material on his fingertips, applied it to her cheeks. He made three dark lines, about a finger's width each, on each cheek. These were signs, I supposed, for the Kaiila. Then he rubbed the material elsewhere, in smudges, upon her body, on her arms, and back, and breasts and belly, and on the tops of her thighs, on her calves, and, then, thrusting his hand between them, on the interior of her thighs.
The girl regarded him, frightened, as he, intent, did this work.
He then stood up.
She knelt at his feet, looking up at him, frightened, her knees now again pressed closely together.
Two men, with kaiila quirts, now stood behind the girl. She was not aware of their presence.
I then realized what the men, doubtless, had in mind.
I smiled.
"Oh!" cried the girl, frightened, dismayed, as Cancega suddenly, with his foot, forced her knees widely apart. She did not dare close them. She now, for the first time in the afternoon, knelt as a slave.
Then, suddenly, the two men with the kaiila quirts struck her across the back and, before she could do more than cry out, she was, too, pulled to her feet and forward, on the two tethers.
She then stood, held by the tethers, wildly, before the pole.
Cancega pointed to the pole.
She looked at him, bewildered. Then the quirts, again, struck her, and she cried out in pain.
Cancega again pointed to the pole.
Winyela then put her head down and took the pole in her small hands, and kissed it, humbly.
"Yes," said Cancega, encouraging her. "Yes."
Again Winyela kissed the pole.
"Yes," said Cancega.
Winyela then heard the rattles behind her, giving her her rhythm. These rattles were then joined by the fifing of whistles, shrill and high, formed from the wing bones of the taloned Herlit. A small drum, too, then began to sound. Its more accented beats, approached subtly but predictably, instructed the helpless, lovely dancer as to the placement and timing of the more dramatic of her demonstrations and motions.
"It is the Kaiila," chanted the men.
Winyela danced. There was dust upon her hair and on her body. On her cheeks were the three bars of grease that marked her as the property of the Kaiila. Grease, too, had been smeared liberally upon her body. No longer was she a shining beauty. She was now only a filthy slave, an ignoble animal, something of no account, something worthless, obviously, but nonetheless permitted, in the kindness of the Kaiila, a woman of another people, to attempt to please the pole.
Blood Brothers of Gor Page 5