The Sublime Seven

by Nicki Huntsman Smith

  Jun-tak knew there would be no deterring her. “Very well. We’ll build it first thing tomorrow. Your carp will be a splendid addition to our food hoard. I am also thinking of building a trap for game larger than voles and hares...an improvement to the snares I have in place.”

  Onya nodded. “A pit trap? I’ve heard of those.”

  “Yes. It will take a lot of digging, but a boar would provide much food. We only have to dig it once, but it will continue to produce indefinitely, perhaps even over the winter.”

  “Boars can’t climb out of those,” Mung added.

  “Right. So we will go to the river to build the smokehouse tomorrow morning. After that, we will dig the pit trap near the southern tree copse. I’ve seen a boar trail nearby.”

  “We have a lot to do to get ready, don’t we, Jun-tak?” Onya locked eyes with him. She knew better than Mung how much stored food they would need to see them through until spring.

  “We do.” He flung an empty satchel over his shoulder.

  Mung yawned. “You’re going back out again? Aren’t you exhausted?”

  “Not really,” he lied. “Rest up, my friend. We’ll need those muscles tomorrow.”

  Mung grinned, exposing teeth more perfect than anyone’s in the Family.

  ***

  The moon had risen, providing just enough light for Jun-tak to see where he walked. It was a long distance to the lentil field, and he thought again of how much time he was wasting getting there. If food sources were brought closer to home, they could spend more time doing the work of gathering. He intended to save seeds from all the grasses and edible foliage, including the lentils, and would plant them in a meadow near their home. That was the part of his plan that would be the most difficult. As with many of his ideas, more effort was required in the beginning to make less work later on.

  It was a concept the Family disparaged. Except for Onya. Her mind was every bit as quick and forward-thinking as his.

  The thought of his two friends sleeping back at the cave warmed his heart. Everything he was doing now...all the sleep he was missing...would benefit them. Eventually, it would benefit the Family, too.

  Suddenly, a menacing growl came from somewhere behind him. He stopped, dropping to the ground. He made himself as small a target as possible while analyzing the sound. Was it another wolf? A lion? A jackal? All these were a possibility, and all were night hunters who wouldn’t hesitate to attack a lone human. He dropped his satchel and gripped his spear, waiting.

  Another growl, closer now. A shiver raced up his back. He identified the vocalization with a wave of terror.

  It was a panther, no question. He had heard one on a night hunt with his father several earth-cycles ago. A more lethal predator did not exist.

  He estimated how far he had traveled away from the safety of the cave, and his heart fell. No human could outrun a panther anyway, and the worst mistake was to turn one’s back. His only option now was to make himself seem as large and fearsome as possible. He stood on tiptoes, waving his arms, and began yelling obscenities into the night.

  The big cat screeched a warning in response.

  The screech was even closer now than the growling had been before.

  He maneuvered his spear into a hunter’s grip, the deadly tip pointing toward the beast. The moon chose that moment to disappear behind some night-gray clouds. His vision now was half what it had been. He peered into the gloom, heart pounding, waiting for the inevitable attack.

  The man-eater would go for his throat.

  He lifted the spear higher. He was happy to see that his hands did not tremble. He had never been more terrified, but he would stand his ground, despite the likelihood of surviving a panther attack.

  He continued to shout, his voice hoarse now from screaming. The predator was not deterred. He heard a rustling, scuffling sound in the distance, and more growling. Clouds scuttled across the night sky, obscuring the starlight. He squinted, focusing on the direction from which he expected the inevitable assault.

  After what felt like an eternity, he released the breath he had been holding. The scuffling and growling and screeching had stopped. Only silence now. Soon, the chirping of insects resumed, followed by the hoots of an owl. It seemed the other creatures had decided there was no further danger.

  “Where are you, vile creature?” he whispered into the blackness. He remained still for some time, unwilling to turn his vulnerable back on such a terrifying beast. Finally, the realization that he wasn’t going to die – at least not that night – registered fully. He had no wish to push his luck, and so turned toward home. There had never been a more welcome sight than the opening of his cave framed by glowing firelight.

  As he made his way up the side of the hill, he heard the sounds of Onya and Mung talking and laughing. What would have happened to them if the panther had succeeded? The Family was surely too far away by now for them to catch up.

  The responsibility for their well-being suddenly weighed on him like a boulder. He must be more careful in the future. Getting himself killed would lead to their more protracted deaths from starvation. He couldn’t just work hard into the night, sacrificing sleep, to assure their survival. He must work cautiously too. The Family’s lifestyle, unchanged for generations, got one thing right: there was safety in numbers. Without numbers, one had to compensate by doing things differently.

  The following night he would bring a torch, an improved version of the type used by the family, which was little more than a lump of charcoal on the end of a stick. He pondered the design of his new torch as well as the items he would need to fashion it. Even as he entered with his empty satchel, his mind worked on this new task.

  ***

  “You can’t stay here, Onya. Not after what happened to me last night,” Jun-tak said the next afternoon.

  The three stood, sweating and panting with exertion, next to the newly built stone structure. Jun-tak’s design was ingenious. The little building, filled with racks for hanging fish and game above the small fire pit, would keep the smoke contained but also allow enough ventilation for it not to become too hot inside. The goal was to dry the meat out slowly, not bake it. That was the key to the preservation of food. If any moisture remained, it would soon grow fuzzy and inedible.

  “I’m staying. Trudging back and forth every day is not sensible. We’ve discussed this.”

  “That was before I almost became dinner for a panther.”

  “I won’t be moving about. I’ll be camped right here, and I’ll be very quiet.” She gestured to a formation of rocks and boulders next to the river. A concaved section at the bottom would provide a place for a small person to lie down. But she would be exposed on all sides except one. “Or maybe I could spend the nights in the smokehouse.”

  “What, standing up?” Mung laughed. “There’s not room for you to even sit down in there, plus it will be smoky. You know, because it’s a smokehouse. You’ll die from the gray air, if not from discomfort.”

  Jun-tak wasn’t paying attention. He was looking at the recess at the base of the rock pile. The next moment he removed his digging tool and began shoveling out dirt.

  “That’s it. He finally has gone mad,” Mung said, watching Jun-tak at his labor.

  Onya watched as well. “No, he hasn’t. He’s having another one of his ideas. What are you thinking, Jun-tak? You’ll make me a nice, safe hole in the ground?”

  “Exactly. The soil is not too hard here, so we will shore it up with stones. It won’t be pleasant, but it will be secure. We’ll make a roof from tethered branches to put on top at an angle, against the boulders. Even if predators can smell you, they won’t be able to get to you. I’ll devise a way to lock the ceiling from within.”

  Mung shuddered. “You would sleep in a dark hole, Onya?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “When one’s eyes are closed, what difference does it make? It’s a brilliant idea, Jun-tak. I don’t mind small spaces.”

  “We can expand it later. When t
here’s time, we can keep excavating farther out, supporting the walls of dirt with more stones. Think about it – a house below ground. It would be safe and cozy. But today, we will only make it deep enough and wide enough for you to lie down comfortably.”

  “That will require a lot of work,” Mung said, reaching for his digging tool. “I guess you’re worth it.” He grinned at Onya, who already held her root spade.

  “I will reward you and that bottomless pit you call a stomach with the biggest, most succulent carp,” she said.

  ***

  “I still don’t think it is a good idea for you to be out here alone at night,” Jun-tak said much later.

  Onya’s underground space was finished and the sun hung low on the horizon. It was time for him and Mung to head home, but it felt wrong to do so without their third member.

  “I’ll be fine. Not just safe, but downright comfortable. Look,” she said, lifting the roof and sliding down the rock lined wall. She had already placed her pallet on the ground inside the space; the other items she had brought were stacked neatly beside it. “I’m locking it now.”

  Jun-tak heard her secure the leather roof straps onto the wooden pegs built into the side. Those straps would keep the canopy locked down. No person or animal would be able to lift it easily.

  He sighed. “Very well. How long do you think you’ll stay?”

  “When I have caught and dried all the fish I can carry home,” she said, emerging from under the hole. “So perhaps a moon-cycle.”

  “I will come check on you.”

  “No. You don’t have the time. Jun-tak, listen to me.” She took his face between her two hands and gazed into his eyes. “We know what we have to do if we’re going to survive the winter. Now leave me to do my part. And please, take good care of Lily for me.” She kissed his cheek above the newly sprouting hairs.

  “She’s quite remarkable,” Jun-tak said to Mung later over the flames of their evening fire. “She will make someone a fine wife, someday.”

  “Umm hmm,” Mung replied, his mouth full of food, as usual. “But not me. I see her only as a friend.”

  “As do I.” He was more relieved than he would admit even to himself. Living in close quarters with a pretty female would be quite a temptation for most men.

  “What are we doing tomorrow? Tell me it’s not more digging.”

  Jun-tak laughed. “We do need to get that pit trap dug near the boar trail, but if you’d rather gather grain, that can be your job.”

  “Yes. I’d prefer that, if it’s all right with you. I’m exhausted. I don’t think I can keep my eyes open any longer. Good night,” Mung said with a beautifully tired smile while reaching over and tousling Jun-tak’s hair. He was asleep on his pallet within a few moments.

  Jun-tak watched the handsome face in the flickering firelight. Then with a deep sigh, he began cleaning up the remains of the meal before heading out into the night to work.

  ***

  The next moon-cycle was filled with long days of hard labor and little rest for Jun-tak. Mung managed to get enough sleep for both of them, though. He wasn’t lazy, but he wasn’t motivated to the same degree as Jun-tak. More than mere survival was at stake. Thriving in this new lifestyle was necessary to convince the Family it was the way of the future.

  The air was beginning to cool and most of the grain within walking distance from home had been gathered. The pit trap had proven successful. Since Onya left, they had added the meat of five boars to their stockpile of lentils, wheat, and barley. There was so much food now that they used a nearby underground cave for storage. The cave remained cool even on warm days. Its mouth, just large enough to wriggle through, was secured by a flat boulder. It took two people to move it, so was inaccessible to animals, and humans wouldn’t know it was there. Not that they expected people to be wandering about. The last tribe had passed through recently.

  They were all alone now.

  Jun-tak woke before dawn. He realized it had been almost a moon-cycle since they had left Onya by the river. He would send Mung to check on her that day. He would prefer to go himself, but the new smokehouse needed to be enlarged, the traps and snares checked and reset, water fetched from the creek, and the animals fed. In addition to the capra and the wolf pup, they now had two piglets – one male and one female – in the pen. Their mother had been butchered and smoked, stored in the food cellar. He hadn’t the heart to slaughter her offspring. He knew his kind-hearted friend would be pleased to have more baby animals to raise. Perhaps when they were older, they would breed and make more piglets.

  He was finishing up the morning meal when he heard a sound just outside the cave. The wooden door he had constructed to cover the opening stood ajar, and sounds...human sounds...filtered in.

  “Mung, wake up,” he whispered, grabbing his spear.

  “What? What is it?” Mung scrambled up from his pallet.

  “I hear someone,” Jun-tak began to say when the smiling face of Onya appeared.

  “You have a door now? Ingenious!” She bustled through and wrapped him in a ferocious hug. “Come help me get the rest of the bundles down below. I couldn’t carry everything up this steep hill.”

  “I was getting worried about you!” Mung said. “You’re skin and bones!”

  “I didn’t want to eat up all your food, silly boy.” She gave Mung’s belly a playful jab.

  “I want to hear all about your fishing,” Jun-tak said. He was filled with joy at the sight of his best friend, safe and sound.

  “Oh, there’s much to tell. My scariest story is that one night I was working until after dark, when I thought I was about to become a panther’s dinner. Just like you, Jun-tak. And then the same thing that happened to you happened to me. At the moment I thought it would attack, the beast went away, never to be heard from again. I did find some blood nearby, but whether it was from the panther or something else, I have no idea. Perhaps another predator got it. But what preys on a panther?”

  “Humans.” He found the notion troubling. As far as he knew, the three of them were the only remaining people in the area.

  “Right. Or maybe a lion. The strange thing is, I heard no sounds of a fight or even a struggle. I’ll probably never know why I escaped, but I’m grateful I did. And I have a surprise.”

  Onya began to unpack all the baskets and satchels they had set on the floor. He was amazed that she was able to carry it all. She had caught and smoked hundreds of carp, had woven baskets from leaves in which to store them, and had devised a clever hauling structure with which to bring it all home. The significance of the woven fronds finally registered.

  “You found a date palm tree? Where?”

  The Family had encountered only a handful in all their travels. The delectable fruit was prized for its flavor and nutrition, while the bark, roots, and leaves could be used in a variety of medicinal applications. Finding a date palm tree was like stumbling onto a herd of auroch that had already corralled themselves into a canyon.

  Onya’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “I did. A small cluster of them. Rather a long way from here, but not too far from the river. Look,” she said, opening the lid of one of the smaller hampers. Inside were nestled purple thumb-sized fruits that would become more wrinkled and sweeter over time. “There were more. So many more, still yellow in color. Not yet ready for picking. We must go back soon.”

  “Yes, of course! They may well be our salvation.” He was surprised that he let the words slip out. Up until then, he had been doing sums in his head. Even with all the stockpiled food, they simply didn’t have enough to get them through the winter. The dates, along with some game, plus the fish, boar, and grain could see them through until spring.

  “That’s what I thought. We can’t travel to the trees, gather the fruit, and make it back here in one sun. We’ll have to camp by the river for at least a night. Which also got me thinking about the future. If we expand the sleeping quarters you made there, it could be used as temporary home when we need to ven
ture farther out.”

  “That is why we are such good friends. We think alike.”

  “Oh!” she squeaked suddenly when she noticed the animal pen. “Lily has gotten so big! And you have piglets!”

  “Yes, for you. And now that the wolf pup is sleeping with Mung – we have been calling him Smokey because of his coloring – there was room in the pen. I don’t know what will happen when they outgrow it. And we’ll have to feed them all, too.”

  The burden of feeding animals as well as people weighed on him. Smokey had stolen their hearts. The pup had bonded more closely with Mung, as Lily the capra had bonded with Onya. The concept of animals being affectionate to humans was unheard of, yet it was happening before his eyes. As much as he enjoyed the camaraderie, it made for more mouths to feed.

  As usual, Onya sensed his disquiet. “We’ll make do. Now, let me see this new food cellar you mentioned.”

  ***

  Work continued, and no one labored harder than Jun-tak. The air was turning colder and sunlight lasted for shorter periods now. They had made several trips to the date palm trees and stripped every single piece of fruit – not an easy task. Scaling the trees was a dangerous endeavor, and again he was impressed that Onya had done it by herself. The pit trap had produced three more boars which they butchered and buried, choosing to preserve the meat this time through fermentation rather than smoking and drying.

  On one of their missions to the date palms, Mung had speared a beaver by the river before it could slink back under the water to its burrow. Of all the game animals, beavers were the most sought-after. Their flesh was rich and flavorful and their pelts warm and naturally water-resistant. Mung made a hat out of the hide and shyly gave it to Jun-tak one evening over their meal. He treasured the gift even more than those from his parents.

  Soon after, the first snow occurred. The three friends stood inside their cozy home and watched the snowflakes dance down from the heavens.