Ki’ti considered the sand on a riverbank. A person must be to Wisdom like a single grain of sand on all the riverbanks and seashores of the earth. She had always felt small compared to other people, but now she felt far smaller. Wisdom, on the other hand, seemed larger and more fantastic to her than ever. She realized that she was comparing Wisdom to the People and there was no comparison. Wisdom could care about endless numbers of beings because Wisdom was Wisdom. Wisdom could find that grain of sand that was Ki’ti and Wisdom could find the People, even if they were not all grouped together. She was grateful that Wisdom was so immense and utterly other than they were. The bigger and more different Wisdom was, the safer she felt entrusting herself and her People to Wisdom. She was awed by the love she found in Wisdom. Her mind web spun as she drifted to sleep.
When Wisdom restored color to the land in a great light of yellow and orange, the cave became energized. The sun was shining outside. The gray was gone. The world outside the cave would be sparkling. There was a distinct eagerness to see the new day.
Kipotuilak was up and dressed. He seemed to feel good again and when Manak-na saw him, he appeared to be getting ready to leave.
“Are you leaving?” Manak-na asked him. He had hurried to reach the man before he left. Manak-na had not even combed through his hair.
“I must get to my home before the mountain passes become too deep in white rain. I hope I haven’t waited too long.” He was bent over tying the mouth of the bag of gifts he carried to his family.
“You are sure that the boatbuilders need help and that they will provide passage to this land beyond the rising sun and return?”
“Yes, Manak-na of the People. Just ask for Pah. Tell him I sent you.”
“I will do that. Thank you for your help.”
“Wait until you have built boats, traveled to the land beyond the rising sun, and returned home before you thank me. You may find it’s nothing to be thankful for.”
“I am grateful for the opportunity,” Manak-na insisted.
“Time will tell,” Kipotuilak said while he examined his spears, not looking at Manak-na.
Ki’ti met Kipotuilak at the entryway. “I see you are leaving. Are you provisioned with food to get you to your destination?”
“Wise One, I have more than enough. Thank you for your generosity. I have found you a truly Wise One and your healer has special talents. May Wisdom give you great peace and may your time at the big lake be good. Just remember that to live there at the coldest part of the year, you must double all your winter garments. It is utterly cold there and fierce winds blow. Be well provisioned for you will not want to go outside in the wind and extreme cold.”
Ki’ti put her hands on Kipotuilak’s shoulders. “Go with Wisdom,” she said. He smiled and walked outside and down the path to the main path below where he would turn toward the west and go to the high mountains.
Manak-na found Domur and sat beside her. “My wife, we must talk.” Domur had known this conversation would come and had dreaded it.
“I have talked to Kipotuilak. The boatbuilders seek workers who will be given opportunities to travel to the land beyond the rising sun and back. I have wanted an adventure from the time I was young. Our children are grown. I know you don’t want to go, that you will be well cared for here among those you love and who love you, that you are important to this group of people. I do love you, but I also want this adventure. Can you give me your farewell truthfully?”
Domur looked into his eyes. In some ways even at his age of thirty-nine he still had some ways of boyhood. “My husband, I do not want to give you a truthful farewell, but I know I must. You know this will cause me pain, and I know it, but for you to have the opportunity to live a part of what has been a dream for so long, I cannot withhold my true farewell wishes. Now, will you promise me two things?”
“What is your desire, my wife?”
“Promise me you will return safely, and that this will be the only time you will ask this of me.”
“I promise,” he said, believing that one adventure would suffice.
“When will you go?”
“When Wisdom has returned the color to the land after sucking it away tonight.”
Domur was not surprised. She had expected that. He would have to do it quickly. For both their sakes.
Ki’ti passed Elemaea in the cave and asked, “Have you found an interest, Elemaea?”
“Yes,” she replied with enthusiasm. “I am knapping spear points and making blades. I enjoy it very much.”
Ki’ti smiled at her. “I am glad to hear that. Are you doing well?”
“Ekuktu-na said that I am doing well. He said my little hands are really good with the smaller blades and spear points. He says it takes years to become thoroughly skilled, but that I am learning fast and that my work is . . .,” she sought the word, finally she remembered, “solid. What does solid mean?”
Ki’ti smiled at this child who was actually reflecting seriousness and caring that had been missing for so long. “My Dear One, it means very good.”
“Does it sound like I’m fitting in? I want to fit in, and I really like making tools. It keeps my belly happy longer than anything I’ve ever done.”
“Then, stay with it and when someone criticizes your work, don’t fret. Learn from it. That is part of the learning process. Maybe you are fitting in, Elemaea. Maybe you are.” Ki’ti continued on her way to check on Din. Elemaea watched her go, wishing they had more time. She put her thumb in her mouth.
Manak-na found a leather bag suitable for holding dried strips of meat. He dressed warmly and headed to the meat preparation cave where the jerky was stored. He knew that Kipotuilak had told him to prepare for twenty days of travel, so Manak-na knew how much meat to get. Kipotuilak had added a few days extra into his computation because Manak-na had a smaller stride than he had.
As soon as Yomuk realized what Manak-na was doing he raced to his uncle and asked whether he could join him. Absentmindedly, without reasoning out the entire situation, Manak-na told Yomuk that if his parents agreed to give him permission, he would allow him to accompany him. Manak-na was certain that Ki’ti and Untuk-na would withhold permission. Manak-na’s statement to Yomuk was all the youth needed.
First, he tried his father, “Manak-na is going to build boats and travel to the land beyond the rising sun. Father, I wish to join him. He said that if you and mother agree to give me permission, he will take me. Will you agree?”
Untuk-na looked at his son. How bright and uncluttered were the mind webs of the young and carefree! “My son, you are not old enough.”
“Father, I landed a killing strike on a live aurochs. I was stung by bees while gathering honey. I am not lazy and I don’t look my age. I am more mature than many who are my age and some who are older.”
Untuk-na considered what the boy was saying. He didn’t want to crush his enthusiasm so he told him, “I will not give you permission unless your mother gives hers first.” He did not think Ki’ti would let him go on such an adventure, even if Manak-na agreed.
Yomuk found his mother bringing up water gourds from the water source low in the home cave.
“Mother, I must ask your permission.”
“For what, my son?”
“Manak-na is going to build boats and travel to the land beyond the rising sun. I wish to go with him. He said that if you and father agree, he will take me. Will you give me permission?”
“How will this adventure make you a better member of the People on your return?” she asked eyeing him on an angle.
“I do not know, mother, but I am certain that it will give me opportunities to do things that I would not otherwise have the chance to do. It will give me wider vision to understand how things on this earth are similar and different. It will make me a better hunter because I will see things more sharply and with better elements for reasoning.”
Ki’ti was surprised at his thoughts. They were the optimistic thoughts of the young, but they c
arried more wisdom than thoughts of most youth his age. She also remembered that he was short with his father and with her, thinking that what they did was of lesser importance than hunters. She felt Tiriku at her left leg. She reached down and picked up the little puppy. She hugged him.
“And what did your father tell you?” she asked.
“He said he would not give me permission unless you gave yours first.”
Ki’ti caught herself before she laughed out loud. So that was the way it was?
“Sit with me,” Ki’ti said. She walked to her place at the men’s council. He sat at the place for youth his age. Ki’ti bent her head downward to think without interruption. She sat for a long time. Yomuk was fascinated. She hadn’t given him an instant negative. He wondered whether there was a chance.
She looked up. “Tell me what’s the worst thing you could imagine happening while you are gone?”
He said, “I could die.”
“Is that really the worst thing?”
He was worried that he’d made the wrong choice. He tried, “Manak-na could die.” It occurred to him that Manak-na was his protector.
She returned her head to the downward position. His second choice was better than the first, she thought. She sat for a long time with her head down. She raised her head.
“You are about to learn a huge lesson, my son. Be very careful what you ask for, because it might be given to you. I give you permission as soon as I hear from Manak-na’s mouth that he truly agreed to take you, if you have permission. You still need your father’s permission.”
Yomuk ran to Untuk-na. “Father,” he said breathless and still in disbelief, “mother has given her permission. Will you give yours?”
“As soon as I verify what you’ve said, you’ll have my permission.” Untuk-na was certain that Manak-na had not really thought about taking Yomuk with him and had spoken without due reasoning. Nevertheless, he had said the words, of that Untuk-na was convinced. Why Ki’ti had said what she had, he had no idea, but he had committed, if she gave her approval.
He went to find her only to see her coming towards him. She smiled broadly.
“Why? My Dear One, why did you give him permission?”
Ki’ti took both his hands in hers. Then she let one loose so they could walk. “There is much that goes on in that young mind web of his. He almost worships Manak-na. He wants to be just like him. Manak-na is wonderful, but he’s not perfect. Yomuk doesn’t know that. At the same time, Yomuk denigrates both of us. It isn’t something he flaunts, but he thinks it, and it colors his behavior. Manak-na enjoys the attention of Yomuk. I think it wise that both have some time together. I know that Manak-na will look out for Yomuk to the best of his ability. He loves his nephew. But having him along will also be a burden, one he agreed to, probably without careful thought. He may have assumed we’d never give him permission.”
“I see what you’re doing. I would never have thought to do that. But, then, you are the Wise One.”
“I asked Yomuk what would be the worst thing that could happen.”
“How did he respond?”
“His second answer was better than the first. The first was that he might die. The second was that Manak-na might die.”
“The child has a good mind web.”
“Yes, he does, but it has some significant flaws. This trip may correct some of those flaws. He will become homesick and will not be able to fix that. It won’t happen right away. The adventure and newness will carry him along for a while. But after he’s seen it all, he’ll long for home and he has to face more than five moons on a boat once he has the opportunity to come home. He will not be allowed to be a child from the moment he leaves. That will come as a shock. He’ll take it well at first. But he’ll cry from time to time. He will learn much.”
“You are beginning to make me wonder how many lessons you’ve taught me that I didn’t know I was learning.”
Ki’ti smiled. “You will verify what Yomuk said with Manak-na?”
“Yes. I will do that now.” Untuk-na left her feeling unsettled but not confused. He was glad he was not Yomuk. The boy wanted to do great things. He was about to learn a great lesson. Untuk-na did not envy Yomuk—or Manak-na.
After Untuk-na and Manak-na talked, Manak-na realized he had taken on a responsibility that he had no intention of accepting. It was too late. Now he would have his adventure, but because he had not thought carefully earlier in the day, he had a huge burden—Yomuk.
Untuk-na gave Yomuk his own backpack. It was larger than Yomuk’s. He told the boy he needed to get enough dried meat for twenty days. He suggested he find out from Manak-na how much that would be. So Yomuk thanked his father for the backpack and went to ask Manak-na how much meat was needed for twenty days. He also had enough presence of mind to find out what else he might need for the trek to the sea or beyond. Manak-na carefully told him what he was taking, checking to be sure the boy had it placed exactly in his mind web. He wouldn’t want to have to give Yomuk what he carried for himself. Manak-na would not know that Likichi and Ki’ti would be putting things in Yomuk’s backpack that Manak-na would enjoy with Yomuk as they traveled and when they arrived at the sea.
That night Ki’ti and Untuk-na, Manak-na and Domur, and Yomuk tossed and turned instead of enjoying restful sleep. Each entertained a multitude of thoughts, concerns, excitement, and sadness—a wide range of emotion.
When Wisdom returned color to the land, Manak-na and Yomuk dressed, ate, and put on their outerwear, attached their backpacks, and stood at the entryway while Ki’ti put her hands on their shoulders and said to each, “Go with Wisdom.” Yomuk followed Manak-na down the hill without looking back. Domur turned away and began to fold up their sleeping mat and covers. Elemaea stared wide eyed. She had heard that Yomuk was leaving with Manak-na and did not understand why he would want to do that. They’d just spent a long time trekking. Why go again? She wanted to run to him to tell him she would miss him. She restrained herself. It all felt wrong, but she would remember to keep her mouth closed so that no one disapproved.
The white rain had melted so that it was only about the depth of a man’s hand from heel to fingertip. Walking was much easier than it had been when they went to find the man who had collapsed on the path. They could walk at a normal stride and that made the trek pleasant.
After some time had passed, Manak-na told Yomuk that Kipotuilak had explained that the evergreen trees were not often found in this area. Travelers had put them in places to mark certain locations. Caves where travelers could camp were marked with evergreens. Other places that were important were marked with them. If they didn’t wait until Wisdom sucked all the color from the land, they could find a place to sleep each night just by looking for evergreen trees. The trees were designed to be seen from the path. The path was concealed by white rain, but Kipotuilak’s tracks left a rut to follow even though more white rain had fallen since they were made.
Each of them carried two spears. They had other tools in their backpacks. The day was warm and the trek went through beautiful land. They walked and ate jerky when they became hungry.
The two continued on towards the sea. They found the caves each night by searching for evergreens. They had seen no other travelers. By the fifteenth day Yomuk was beginning to show signs of restlessness. He was bored. He had not learned that just when one becomes bored on a trek, the perspective shifted to how close one was to the destination, not how far they’d traveled. What was in the past was in the past. They were so close to their destination. Before the day was over Manak-na would explain to Yomuk how to shift perspective so he did not become bored and, therefore, a nuisance.
In the evening of the eighteenth day they could see the sea in the distance. They had to decide whether to stop at the cave marked by evergreens or continue on. Yomuk wanted to continue on, but Manak-na decided it was time to stop. Entering the area in the light was better than in the dark. They entered the small cave and had some meat, put their sleeping ski
ns and covers on the floor of the cave, and settled down to rest and sleep. They spoke little. Each was brimming with excitement. Sleep came quickly.
Chapter 3
Manak-na awakened and quietly went outside to make water, careful not to look towards the east. He wanted to save his view of the sea until he was actually headed there. He stood at the cave entryway and savored the morning air and the breeze. He could detect the hint of salt in the air. It had been a very long time since he’d smelled salt in the air. It took him back to his childhood. He broke off a small piece of woody material from a branch to pick his teeth. He felt to the bottom of his belly that this would be a good day—one to remember.
He went into the cave and took his comb from his backpack. He combed his hair, braided it tightly, folded it, and clasped it with a wide leather collar. The collar had two opposing holes. Manak-na had a wooden pin that he pushed through a hole, his hair, and the second hole. It held the collar in place. Yomuk was awake and had dressed and was combing his hair. Manak-na took a piece of jerky and bit off a piece. It was remarkably tasty. The People were very good at smoking meat. Some of the People felt they had come to hard times when they had to resort to their stores of dry meat. Not his People. The dry meat was as good as the other meat. At least he felt that way.
Yomuk was quiet this morning. He’d gone out and now reentered the cave. Manak-na was glad for the quiet. He was about to begin an adventure and he wanted to feel every moment of it. He drank some water from the gourd he’d filled last night. It was cool and slaked his thirst.
Yomuk let out a startled sound. Manak-na looked up. Yomuk was holding a rounded piece of food with what looked like blueberries in it. Manak-na began to salivate. Yomuk looked back inside his backpack and found another and handed one to Manak-na. Someone had packed tasty treats in his backpack. The round balls had fallen from their wrapper and collected near the bottom of his backpack.
“Thank you,” his uncle said, forgetting about his reverie and the sea for a moment and feeling truly grateful Yomuk shared.
Manak-na's Story, 75,000 BC Page 10