Zamimolo’s Story, 50,000 BC: Book Three of Winds of Change, a Prehistoric Fiction Series on the Peopling of the Americas (Winds of Change series 3)

by Bonnye Matthews

  Zamimolo wasn’t eager to see those ants. Met’s face was showing pain. He asked, “Met, do you hurt?”

  “Yes, there is a lot of pressure on my air bladders. When the elephant ran by and hit my chest with its big tooth, it must have done some damage. I’ll probably be fine in a few days. It seemed anxious when it saw the fresh killed wolf or maybe it was something else. I don’t think my ribs are broken, but I’m not sure.” Met closed his eyes. It hurt to breathe.

  “Did you and Foo kill the wolf?” Linpint asked.

  “Oh, no. It was my father and me. We had killed a small camel and the wolf wanted it. Foo was bit and stumbled off. Between my father and me, we killed it.”

  “I am cooking the camel.”

  “I thought you were cooking it. When my people arrive, they will bring home my father’s body to bury. I hope nothing bothers it.”

  “This morning, Met, there were some people who came in a boat and gathered turtle eggs from the sand. They didn’t see us here. Their skins were darker than yours.”

  “You saw the Alitukit. They live far north of us. They are a peaceful people as long as you don’t disturb them.”

  “What do you mean, ‘disturb them.’”

  “They don’t want others to live on their land.”

  “Would they steal people?” Linpint asked watching Met’s face carefully.

  “I really don’t know. I want to say they wouldn’t, but I don’t know them that well. Some of our elder hunters could probably answer your question. Why are you asking?”

  “My friend, Zamimolo, seeks the girl who was to become his wife. We arrived by boat from the sea to the west. The night of the day we arrived, she was stolen. We have been trying to find her. She seems to have vanished. He is breaking inside from the loss.”

  “Because of your kindness, I wish I could help. It just doesn’t sound like something the Alitukit would do. I don’t know any people who steal other people. It makes no sense.”

  “Is there any way I can make you more comfortable?” Linpint asked.

  “I would like to lie flat on the earth for a while to sleep, if possible.”

  “Here, let me help.” Linpint smoothed out the ground and laid a skin under Met. The man looked very tired. “While you rest, I will bring the body of your father down here so we can protect it.”

  Met smiled weakly and shut his eyes.

  Linpint put on his sun protection again and climbed up the slope to the hilltop. He picked up the dead man, carried him down the hill, and placed the body in the shade downwind of their camp.

  As the sun began to go down behind the hills, Linpint saw Zamimolo and the men walking along the shoreline. The camel was well done and ready for hungry people. Met and Foo both still slept. Linpint went to meet the men. Zamimolo made introductions and the men headed toward the camp. When they arrived, Met awakened.

  Lumikna, their healer, went straight to Met. He felt his skin and discovered that he was not feverish. He checked the hunter over and found severely tender places in multiple locations, and assessed damage as painful but not life threatening.

  “Gu, wrap his chest carefully. Some ribs are questionable,” Lumikna said quietly.

  He went to Foo. That was different. The bite was serious and showed inflammation around the puncture marks. Foo was feverish, and Lumikna could not rouse him.

  While Lumikna checked Foo, two of the men, Ta and For, asked where to find the body of Soklinatu. Linpint walked them to the place.

  Ta looked at Linpint. “Would you share some camel with us before we take the body home? I am hungry.”

  “Of course,” Linpint replied. “The camel was hunted and killed by your people. I’ll set up your food right away. Come back to camp.”

  To make servers, Linpint pulled some fibrous material from the coconut tree nearest the campsite and cut off a steaming hunk of camel roast for the men. He sliced the meat hunks on the coconut fiber servers and handed one each to Ta and For. He had placed some fruit and a few boiled eggs on each server. The men ate ravenously. Linpint served the others and finally himself.

  Night noise of the forest had begun. The sky was clear and there was a fragrance from some flowering plants on the outgoing breeze. Zamimolo noticed Lumikna looking at Gu. Ever so slightly, he shook his head negatively. Zamimolo correctly deduced that Lumikna did not expect Foo to survive.

  Lumikna looked up at Zamimolo. “I know we planned to stay here overnight, but I have changed my mind. We’ll use the two stretchers to carry Foo and the body of Soklinatu home as soon as we finish eating. Would you accompany Met home tomorrow? He is able to walk but may need to stop to rest frequently.”

  “It would be our pleasure to help in any way we can,” Zamimolo replied.

  The men set up the stretchers. Ta and For carried the body; Vil and Gu transported Foo. Much light remained when they left. Zamimolo marveled at the speed of their arrival, assessment, and departure. They wasted no time. Lumikna thanked Zamimolo and Linpint and the men left.

  Met lay on the skin. He was full from the camel and felt very tired. He was grateful that he wouldn’t have to make the long walk until the next day. Normally, he’d have thought of the walk as very short. It grew longer the worse he felt. He slept.

  The next day the men got up, ate some of the remaining camel, packed their things, and headed to Met’s home to the north.

  When they arrived just before high sun, there was a meeting identical to the one where Chief Hirmit presided. Chief Paaku presided at the meeting. He explained that they and the people of Chief Hirmit were both Kapotonok. Their village had become too large, so their group had migrated north. He explained that his people live almost all year much farther north, but they come to the edge of the sea for the turtle time and the chance to see relatives. It made better use of the land and kept from overhunting the animals. He said the Kapotonok had once come from the western sea. They had lived in this land longer than their stories could remember. Their people stretched along the edge of the sea to the north and the south but more to the south. They knew peoples from the north to the south of this huge land. Some of those people regularly traveled the western seas to this day both to the north and to the south, such as the boatmen who brought them to this land. He told of people from the eastern sea who traveled from a land far away, the Alitukit. He said they rarely met with them because the Alitukit were distrustful of strangers. There was a language difference. They could make themselves understood, but it was tedious and frustrating.

  Zamimolo introduced Linpint to the men. He told the men of his People who lived in the forests of the north across the sea, of the deep snows, and the cold. He told of their knowledge of a warm land where it didn’t snow, where there was room for many People. He said that they split much as had the Kapotonok, primarily because some yearned for warmth. It would also make animals more available to those who remained behind. He told of their arrival at a large inlet where they turned in to set up temporary camp and of the abduction of Olomaru-mia. They explained they were in this part of the land searching for her.

  Chief Paaku looked at an older man, Opt. “Do you know anything?”

  Opt looked into Zamimolo’s eyes with eyes black as coal—eyes that bored into Zamimolo’s belly. “You are dishonoring the Maker, young man. Men who know the Maker have told you this. The girl you seek belongs to another now. You will not find her until you both have white hair. If you find her, she will die because you dishonor the Maker. Why put her life at risk? You will not get what you want—her for your wife. She is now another’s. Go home, straighten your life, find a wife, and live right. Find a way to atone for your dishonoring the Maker.” Opt looked at Linpint. “You encourage your friend to dishonor the Maker by staying with him. You need to leave here for your home. Already your seed grows in the belly of a woman. Find her. Make her your wife. You will find none better. Care well for those children. Teach them to honor the Maker. One will become a Chief of renown. Another will make a discovery that
will help people. You are both wasting your lives now. Respect what is, for what is—is. You are powerless to change it. I repeat, both of you are wasting your lives.”

  Both Zamimolo and Linpint were amazed at the words of the old man. Linpint had heard this three times now. He felt uneasy, but inwardly he resolved not to continue north with Zamimolo but rather to return home after a stop at the other Kapotonok village. He wondered what Zamimolo would do. Zamimolo was also uneasy. He felt responsible for causing future harm to Linpint if he continued this quest. He did not want to fight Wisdom, and he was certain the word Maker meant Wisdom. It became clear to him that his pursuit was likely futile and that he needed to straighten his life without Olomaru-mia.

  Chief Paaku interrupted their thoughts. “We have need of a man and a woman exchange to keep lines from becoming too close. We would like to travel to your home to see whether a trade is possible.”

  Linpint looked up. “I have tried to fulfill my promise to my friend, but after the words of Opt, I have reconsidered. I will return home. Opt is right. It is possible that my seed grows in the belly of a woman of the Kapotonok. I will ask that she come home with me.”

  “Good!” Opt interrupted.

  Linpint continued, “If your people wish to come with me to explore a swap, I’ll be glad for the company.”

  “I will accompany you with my daughter, Ba, and nephew Kolpatin,” the Chief replied. “There may be others. Now, let us have music and dance. It is early but the time to celebrate is here.” The circle disbanded, musical instruments appeared, and women began to start roasting for the evening meal. Zamimolo was in a whirlwind. He couldn’t believe that Linpint had agreed to leave the pursuit in front of strangers, before telling him. Yet, he could understand that after three wise men had said the same thing, it was time to change. Even he would return home, wherever that was now.

  Ba, a lovely, very young woman went to Zamimolo. Her very long dark hair braided down her back, caught with a small leather tie. Tendrils framed her face and neck. She was beautiful, but seemed unaware. “Zamimolo,” she said quietly, “You look so sad. I am very sorry to hear that your first experience in this great land was sadness.”

  “I am trying hard to get past it, but it’s still like a new wound.” He wanted her to leave him but did not want to appear rude.

  “You appear to be distraught. I am going to work on the muscles in your shoulders and neck. It will help them to relax. You only need to sit there. You can enjoy the music while I work. I need to get some things from my hut and will be right back.”

  Zamimolo was undone. He didn’t want a strange girl working on his muscles, but he didn’t know how to get out of the situation, so he just accepted it as something he had to do. Linpint heard the exchange and was amused. He pretended not to have heard.

  The music began. There were two drums beating slightly differently, one slower and deeply resounding, the other faster with more beats in the same time. A flute played a high pitch. Gourds filled with something made rattling sounds. There was a piece of wood with a deep groove. A man used two sticks to tap out sounds from the grooved piece of wood. Sometimes instead of tapping the grooved piece, the two sticks would tap together. A few people made whistling music; some hummed.

  When Ba returned, Zamimolo noticed she hummed. Not loud, but he could hear her. Ba wore a soft leather short skirt, as did all the Kapotonok women. Women only wore the short skirts. Women of the People covered their breasts with their tunics. These women were uncovered. She did not seem to have skin burned from the sun. He wondered why. As she hummed, she took some succulent plants and placed them on a piece of hard leather. She cut the tip of the leaf and dripped liquid onto her hand. She used what seemed to Zamimolo to be a large quantity. She rubbed her palms together and went to kneel behind him. She began to smooth the liquid into his skin on the tops of his shoulders. It was very soothing. It took some of the sting from the burn. She smoothed the liquid all over his shoulders and down his arms, and then began to massage those muscles with strength for which he was not prepared. He did not expect that anyone so tiny could possibly cause him pain, but this was serious work on muscles. He had no idea his muscles were so tight. She could just look at him and know? He did not understand. He had been sitting curved over, resting his arms and forehead on his knees. Her breasts were brushing against his back, and he found himself becoming aroused. Quickly, he sat up straight.

  “It would be a lot easier if you lie down on your belly,” she said quietly.

  Zamimolo didn’t know what to do, so he did what she suggested. She placed the leather with the plants next to his arm and straddled his back. He lay there like a trodden toad. Unseen, Linpint was stifling laughter. He’d been through something similar in the other village. Somehow, Linpint didn’t expect this event to plant a seed in her belly, however.

  Ba worked for a long time on Zamimolo’s shoulders and neck muscles. When she finished, Zamimolo thanked her profusely. He felt a sense of freedom, of release from too much tightness. Zamimolo found Linpint.

  “You really surprised me. Couldn’t you have told me, before you told strangers?”

  “I know I should have warned you, but the words were out of my mouth almost before I thought them. It is time to return home, Zami.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that I can see the reason to return home. These wise men are seeing something I cannot see, but they are bringing words from Wisdom to me. I do not want to be at odds with Wisdom.”

  “Nor I.”

  Zamimolo walked over to Chief Paaku. “We have listened to Opt and with what we have been told, we are ready to return home tomorrow. Do you have any honey to spare and some strips of leather. We run low on both.”

  “Linpint desires to find the girl from the other village. Her name is Lomah. Linger here a few days and we will accompany you to meet your people. We will not leave tomorrow but will send a message to bring Lomah here, if she is willing, along with any others. We will cross directly to the western sea and one of my friends will take us by boat to your inlet. Having her come here will be faster than for us to go there and return. And, yes, Zamimolo, we can replace your honey and leather.” The Chief smiled, knowing Zamimolo had no idea how they’d get the message out.

  “How will you tell them what the plan is?” Zamimolo asked, curiosity burning his mind web.

  “Drums.”

  “What?” Zamimolo said, incredulous.

  “You will see and hear tonight. Meanwhile I will show you with these pebbles.” He laid five pebbles on the ground. He drew the eastern line of the edge of the sea in the sand. “These are the rivers you crossed to get here,” he said. “The pebbles are example drum sites. We send a message to this drum. They pass it along to the next drum and we hear it to know they have passed on what we said accurately. The third drum site passes it on until it gets to the farthest point, the other village. There are more than five sites. These sites remain even when we are not here. A long line of these sites exists all along the west from north to south. We remain in communication.”

  Zamimolo was dumbfounded. A communication system that covered so much territory was more than he could take in so quickly. He marveled at the idea.

  “Go, enjoy the music, we are about to eat. Then, later there will be dancing. You have some time to relax. Make the most of it,” he said with a smile.

  Zamimolo found Linpint and told him about the drums. Linpint was equally astonished. They were eager to hear the drums and observe them at work. The two men went to the fire circle and stood against trees. They watched the young people dancing in between their jobs of readying for the evening meal. These were the happiest people Zamimolo and Linpint had seen for a long time. There was a fallen log with a flat top at the edge of their temporary village. The Kapotonok used it for the placement of food in large turtle shell bowls or smaller servers. People would take their food or be served from there. Zamimolo watched Ba dance in with bowls and servers and dance back to return with
more. Her movement fascinated him. He could not take his eyes from her. Suddenly pain gripped his belly. What, he wondered, was he doing permitting himself to become captivated by a woman, a very young one at that, when Olomaru-mia remained abducted? Then he realized that, according to the wise man from this group of people, Olomaru-mia had already joined with someone else. Somehow, he believed that the old man knew truth, even if he could not begin to understand how. Even if it hurt him from his head to his toes. For the first time in his life Zamimolo questioned everything he’d ever been taught. Then he rebounded to his first belief, Wisdom was good; Wisdom held all things together; Wisdom shared important information with a person obligated to share it with others. Wisdom produced the winds of change and expected people not only to adjust to it but also to find the blessing in it. Zamimolo realized that he had not had a single thought of this event as a blessing at all. It was important to do that. He would think on that. Ba danced past the edge of the fire pit. Fleetingly Zamimolo thought that if they joined she’d be in a longer length tunic instantly, a tunic with a top. He immediately wondered at his own thoughts. She dressed properly for the group in which she lived. The Kapotonok thought nothing of women’s bared breasts. Who was he to have thoughts as an outsider? He found Linpint and shared his thoughts.

  “I’ve had the same thoughts. I will gladly join Lomah, but she will wear a longer tunic and stop running about in short skirts with exposed breasts.”

  “But, Linpint, I had this thought about someone with whom I’d not thought to join.”

  “You heard the wise old man. Olomaru-mia has already joined another. You need look elsewhere, my friend. Olomaru-mia is not available, even if you found her. Maybe part of your mind web is already acting on that information. Ba would make a great wife for you, and she certainly finds you attractive. You know you’ll never get through tomorrow without another massage.” Linpint grinned lasciviously.

  Zamimolo pushed him. The two laughed. Gu’s wife called everyone to the evening meal. The meal included seafood (fish and shellfish), peccary, some meat the men didn’t recognize, boiled seaweed, and fruits in abundance. Zamimolo took small portions of fish, peccary, and the meat he couldn’t identify. Linpint did the same but added some clams. They took seaweed and fruit. This new land, they agreed, did provide wonderful food.