Manak-na's Story, 75,000 BC

by Bonnye Matthews

  “I’m sorry, Izumo,” she said again using the term that meant grandmother or revered elder woman. “Now that I think on it, I understand.”

  Likichi had been gently touching the head and chest of Din. He was hot, but not to the severe level where she’d need to pack wet cloths all over him. She went to her bag and handed Tita a few pieces of willow bark. She tore off a smaller piece. “Have him chew on this,” she said. “He should spit it out, not swallow it. His body heat should return to normal. It may rise again, so use more willow bark if that happens. If he becomes hotter than this or starts to shiver violently, call me. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

  “Thank you, Izumo.” Tuma said.

  Likichi’s mind web drifted back in time to the cave in the ashfall when Tita wasn’t expected to live. She was two years old and looked half her age. Her mother’s milk had dried up on the trek to avoid the volcano. Her mother was Minguat. People saw to it that Tita was fed. Real People saved her life. Likichi resumed sorting herbs.

  Gladly, with a sigh Ki’ti agreed to do the pronouncement of joining Humko-na and Song that night at the men’s council. They would have a short dancing ceremony and the two would depart for the cave above the meat preparation cave. Even now the two young people were preparing it for their first night. At the same time, the home cave was abuzz with the final aspects of the evening meal which all would enjoy together this night. After the dancing, they would have at least one story. She wondered whether there might be a special story that should be told this night.

  Against the wall deeper in the cave, Tita felt the forehead of the now sleeping Din. The willow bark had cooled him down and he seemed comfortable in sleep. Ey, Tita’s mother, stopped by to see how the young one was doing and showed a real sense of relief. It was troubling when adults were sick with body heat, but when it happened to children it seemed to carry an additional concern. Ey didn’t know why in general, but she knew that she had almost lost Tita once so everything specific about her daughter was special to Ey.

  After the evening meal and cleanup chores had been completed, after Ki’ti pronounced Humko-na and Song joined, after the dancing and the departure of the newly joined, Ki’ti prepared to tell the story for the night. This would be a short story. All gathered around the main fire in anticipation, shadows dancing on the walls from People settling for the story and from the bright hearth fire. Little sparks floated up towards the ceiling, mostly going dark before they reached the great height.

  Ki’ti began, “There was a wonderful place we called the land where the giants played. When we named it that, we didn’t know that there had been giants in that land. When we said giants, we did not mean the real giants who really lived there. We didn’t know giants really existed except in stories. The land where the giants played was filled with strange huge rocks. They rested on rock on the ground. We thought very huge People must have stacked blocks atop other blocks to make the structures we saw.”

  “One day a small rock on the ground said to one of the beautiful rocks that appeared to have been carved to look like an elephant, ‘People come to look at you, and they marvel at your shape. Those People never see me. They walk all over me. It’s painful to see all the mindfulness you get—while I just get walked on.’”

  “The rock that looked like an elephant thought for a while and then said, ‘You had a chance. You stood above me for as long as time. Rain and that flooding river ran past us and the land shook and you were impatient. Your body became stiff and unbending with anger. Finally, with all the rain and flooding river water and freezing and thawing, you broke in half and then in half again. You fell from your place to the ground where you were ground down faster. That is why People walk on you today and don’t see you, while they look favorably at me.’”

  “Then, here is another story,” she continued without pausing. Tiriku slept soundly beside her left leg. “When we lived in the place we just left, the hunters found a wonderful dropoff. They planned to use the dropoff to run animals over it for a safer way to hunt. Kai-na agreed to stand at the edge of the dropoff to call to the animals so the animals would run towards him. Below where he stood, there was a ledge he would drop to when the animal got too close.

  “The first time they tried it, Kai-na was injured by the rhinoceros as it ran over the dropoff. Its hind leg broke Kai-na’s leg. People worried that the dropoff wasn’t safe. It was Kai-na who explained that it wasn’t the dropoff. Instead the ledge needed to be dug out so there was more room on the ledge for hunter safety. Certainly there was danger, but expanding the place the hunter could hide could decrease the risk of injury. While Kai-na’s leg healed, hunters dug out the ledge and the dropoff became a wonderful safer way to hunt the animals that traveled past that grassland every season of new leaves and colorful leaves.”

  “Now, I want to do something different. Look at my face if you know what the story about the rocks was about.”

  Ki’ti watched.

  Ten-year-old Luga, Minagle and Sum-na’s child, immediately looked at Ki’ti.

  “Luga,” Ki’ti said, “What was that story about?”

  “It told of a lack of patience that turned into anger and what happened because of it.”

  “You are right, Luga.”

  “Now, all of you,” Ki’ti addressed them all. “In the second story Kai-na got injured and couldn’t walk for a long time. Was he like the rock on the ground?”

  Mingugno, Lamk-na and Liho’s sixteen-year-old son, was looking right into Ki’ti’s eyes. She was delighted. Mingugno was one of the quiet ones. Nobody really knew him.

  “Mingugno,” Ki’ti asked, “Was Kai-na like the rock on the ground?”

  “No, Wise One. Kai-na was trying to help the People and was taking a great risk himself to do that. He was brave, not impatient and angry like the rock. He was not injured because of flaws in his character or carelessness but rather because the feat he was trying to accomplish was new and untried.”

  Ki’ti was overwhelmed that this quiet one was so very much on target.

  “I approve!” Ki’ti said. “You have reasoned well.”

  Everyone was surprised when Humko-na returned to the story group. On first night, once the pair left, they didn’t return. His eyes stared into Ki’ti’s and Ki’ti said, “Humko-na, what is it?”

  “On our way to our cave, Song spotted something dark in the solid white rain below. It is large, and it does not move,” he said.

  “We will check to see what it is, Humko-na. Thank you for informing us. Please, return to your cave now.”

  No sooner were the words spoken than Humko-na was gone.

  Manak-na, Kai-na, Arkan-na, and Bun were on their feet at the cave entryway immediately. They dressed warmly, took spears and some leather skins, and left. They could make out a dark spot below near the path that led to the sea. With the falling white rain, in a short time the darkness below would have been covered and it would not have been clear that something out of place lay there.

  Bun slid down the trail faster than the men. He was much younger at eighteen and was eager to know what the dark spot was. When he reached the level ground he began to run only to discover that his legs sank to his knees in the white rain. Instead of racing to the dark spot, he found that he had to drag one leg at a time from the white rain and step forward in short increments, making a very narrow pathway for the men who followed. That was not what he had planned, but it permitted him to provide a service to the older men, so he felt that he was doing what he was supposed to do rather than what he chose. That he had a helpful role pleased him.

  When he reached the dark spot, he could see that it was a man. The man was a Mol, but a stranger. He had a bag which he carried with him. He had some spears.

  Manak-na approached next and checked the man’s neck. “He’s alive,” he said. “Bun please return to the cave as fast as you can. We could use two men, formerly Mol, to come with a stretcher. Warn the women to prepare for a man who is drifting away
to death from cold.”

  “I will go as fast as possible. Do you want me to return?”

  Kai-na looked up. “Not necessary, Bun. You have done very well.”

  Bun climbed up to the new home cave as quickly as possible to deliver the message. The women and men responded, preparing for the newcomer immediately. Tongip-na and Gumokut carried a stretcher down and were amazed at the narrow walk that Bun had cut to reach the dark spot. It was surprisingly straight. They laid the stretcher beside the man and all of the men together rolled the man onto it. Then they used some leather strips to hold the man to the stretcher, and the two men began to carry it towards the hillside and then to the home cave. Meanwhile, women made a sleeping place for the man and filled numbers of bladders with water and dumped hot stones in them to heat the water.

  Likichi showed the men where to put the stretcher and they untied the man and rolled him onto furry skins that had been provided. So that the man would not fear when he awakened, they placed his spears on the wall near where he lay. He was terribly cold, but his hands and feet were protected and his face and head had been covered as well. His nose was not frozen. They hoped he would not lose parts of himself from freezing.

  His clothing design wasn’t lost on Likichi. She had seen the design years ago worn by the man with the green bag. This man had a tunic, pants, jacket, boots, a head covering, and hand coverings. He also had a huge skin that was very soft over all of the garments he wore. His tools were similar to the ones they had. He carried a bag they had not looked into. Likichi noticed that his heart rate was slow, and he did not breathe deeply. She removed his jacket with help from the Mol who’d brought the stretcher.

  Tongip-na said, “He looks like the Mol who live beyond where we lived, far beyond in the high mountains. I have never seen him. Have you seen him, Gumokut?”

  Gumokut shook his head indicating a negative.

  Women brought furry coverings to Likichi who placed them atop the stranger. The cave, which normally resonated with quiet conversation at this hour, was virtually silent. Everyone was fascinated with the stranger. The stranger remained asleep. Likichi had tried to awaken him to no avail. She had some women take the heated water in the bladders and place the bags beside the man from his underarms to his hips. Three layers of his coverings were pushed aside and more bags were placed on the two coverings that remained on his belly and chest. Then the three covers had been laid back over the man.

  Likichi had moved her sleeping skin and covers to the ground perpendicular to the head of the man. If he moved or awakened, she wanted to know. Tongip-na moved his sleeping skin and covers next to the man, so if interpretation became necessary, he’d be available without someone having to seek him out. Otherwise, all was normal in the cave.

  As time passed, because the man did not awaken, the People began to go to sleep. Through the night as the man slept, Likichi and Tongip-na kept the warm containers of water placed against the man’s sides and atop him to keep him warm. Both rarely slept much, as they took their responsibility for the man very seriously.

  It was not until after Wisdom had restored color to the land and after the People had enjoyed their morning meal that the man showed some signs of stirring. He didn’t wake up completely—just twisted a little and moaned quietly.

  Finally about the time the sun was directly overhead, if it could have been seen through the cloudy sky, the man opened his eyes and instantly began to show signs of great fear.

  “You are safe here,” Tongip-na said to him in the language of the Mol.

  “You are Mol?” the man asked incredulous.

  “Yes.”

  “How did I come to be here?” the stranger asked.

  Tongip-na explained that someone had seen a dark spot below and they had brought him up to the cave hoping to see him live. When Tongip-na noticed the man trying to move, he explained about the bags of hot water to warm him. The stranger made it clear he’d never heard of anything like that and he appreciated the help. Tongip-na began to remove the bags from around the man. Girls came to pick them up and asked if more were needed. Tongip-na replied that he didn’t think more were needed at this time.

  Likichi had gone to get some meat broth for the man. She returned, but he made it clear that first he needed to find the privy. Tongip-na tried to help him to his feet but he was too unsteady. At Likichi’s direction, Meta brought the container that men used when they could not go to the privy. The man was horrified to have to make water in the cave, but if that’s what it took, it was better than bursting his bladder. When he finished, Meta took the container to the entryway and placed it there for emptying at the privy below. Whoever went next would take it.

  Likichi handed a bowl to the man and he drank the broth from it, smiling at her because it wasn’t only broth—it was seasoned and had tiny particles of food in it, so it was delicious. He drank all of it.

  “Ask him if he wants more,” Likichi asked Tongip-na.

  Tongip-na asked him.

  “Please,” the man said with a smile to Likichi.

  Likichi started to rise, but Tongip-na put his hand on her shoulder and offered to get the broth. He knew Likichi had difficulty getting up and down.

  The man enjoyed a second bowl of broth and then he lay down and pulled the covers over himself.

  “I’m sorry,” he said to Tongip-na and Likichi, “I am just in serious need of sleep.”

  For three days the man ate broth and slept. At the end of that time Humko-na and Song had returned to the home cave and the man was sitting up. He would share his story at the men’s council that night. Otherwise he wanted to know what the few Mol were doing with the People. The story fascinated him. They actually chose to live with the People! He’d met the Wise One by then but had not seen her do anything that was unusual, so she did not stand out to him. He couldn’t believe she and Untuk-na were married. Untuk-na was Mol and so much taller!

  The women were surprised that the man had not had any part of his body frozen black. They examined his boots and were very impressed. His boots had tough elephant skin on the bottom that curled up about as long as a thumb on the outside of the boot, adding some waterproofing. The boots were fully lined inside with winter caribou, the hollow hairs of which provided excellent insulation. The boots had thick deer hide with fur left on covering the outside. There was a ring of caribou fur that went from the inside of the top of the boot like a cuff to the outside of the boot and hung down about a hand’s length on the outside of the top of the boot. It could be raised to extend the top of the boots, when white rain piled up too deep for the tops of the boots. The People had never seen caribou or felt its luxurious softness, but the Mol had seen it from time to time on their high mountain cousins’ garments or boots.

  When it came time at the men’s council, the stranger was asked to tell the story of how he came to be where they found him.

  He began, “I am Kipotuilak of the men of the Altay in the High Sunset Mountains. My father is chief. I am the second son. I chose to go to the sea to travel to lands beyond where the sun rises. I wanted to learn to build boats for travel, see what else is on this earth, meet different people, and learn their ways. I have seen much. The earth is huge. No one could see it all. This was my third trip. I returned from the land beyond where the sun rises and traveled for more than five full moons on the salt waters before we were returned to our shore this time.”

  “The land we go to beyond where the sun rises is warm. Much warmer than here all year. It is lovely land, and often I’ve thought of making that my home. The people are kind and I like their food. There is much fruit that grows on trees and shrubs, and it can be picked as you walk by it. Life is much easier. But I have a wife here, and I have an obligation to her. That’s why I have the bag. There is much in the bag for her and for our children.”

  “Building boats is fascinating. The boats are very big and they go well on the sea. When you help build, you can sometimes take a trip to the land beyond where th
e sun rises, and they will let you return here, when the boat makes its return. I have done this three times. My wife tells me this is my last travel across the salt sea. I don’t know whether that is what will be. Time will tell.”

  At this point Manak-na wanted desperately to talk to the stranger someplace other than at the men’s council. He was hanging on every word the stranger spoke. The man was living the life he wanted to live. He was so close to the place where he could easily leave for the sea. A path even went there! But what about Domur? He heard the man mention his wife, but she did not sound happy about his adventures.

  Domur had been watching Manak-na, not Kipotuilak, while the man spoke. She knew this would be wood for the fire that burned in her husband’s belly. Her belly sank further at each word the man spoke. She knew Manak-na would love to help build a great boat, and to go to sea on such a boat would be the biggest dream he could have. Domur did not know that Ki’ti had already made it known that the path on which the man was found led to the sea.

  The men’s council ended and people readied themselves for sleep. Domur didn’t know whether to address the sea adventure or leave it alone. For this night she decided she would not introduce it. Manak-na finally came to their sleeping place and quickly fell asleep. He brought no words, just a brief hug.

  Ki’ti was fascinated to think on the size of the earth. To know there was a great sea that took more than five moons to cross left her breathless. She could not imagine spending five moons on a boat. She thought that even a big boat would become painfully small in that length of time. At the same time, the idea of such a large body of water left her pondering the small size of a human in comparison. Wisdom cared about them. She knew that. How, she contemplated, could Wisdom even find them to care about them? How could Wisdom care about all those created People, Minguat, and Mol across the face of the earth all at the same time? Were there others that she didn’t know about besides People, Minguat, or Mol on the other side of the salt sea—or, on this side?