Manak-na's Story, 75,000 BC

by Bonnye Matthews

  “I was astonished to hear Ahna pray,” Untuk-na said as they entered the stone structure.

  Ki’ti sat on a squared off rock. “I was, too. How could someone who just met Wisdom have such faith?”

  “From what I hear, she’s had a very difficult life, but it hasn’t made her hard. Instead it’s made her live on hope. Hope is tied to faith, if I understand correctly.” Untuk-na sat close beside her on the rock.

  “I agree with you Untuk-na. It’s as though Wisdom has always been with her, just beyond her grasp until now.”

  “I’ll ask the question we want answered, ‘Is she the one?’”

  “Oh, my Love, I hope so. If she’s my replacement, I will stop one worry I’ve had for years. I wondered whether Yomuk might be the replacement, but time has shown that to be a false hope. Then, suddenly this little girl appears and the very idea of Little Girl springs out of the past and virtually strikes me. She was told she would be brought to a People because she had something to do. Do you remember how Wamumur became the Wise One?”

  “What do you mean, Ki’ti?”

  “He had been stolen from his People far to the west. The People carried him along with them to the south and to the east. He was from somewhere far away and he was brought with the People where he became their Wise One. There is, I’m trying to say, a tradition for this.” Ki’ti was tracing a spiral on the rock structure wall. First she’d start at the center point and move outward, and then she’d start at the outer edge and move back in. Untuk-na was intrigued with her tracing.

  “I think she’s your replacement, Ki’ti. It all fits together.”

  “Time will tell, my Dear One. I will know when I see evidence that she has been given the memory.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Wisdom gives the capacity to hold in memory all the stories. I couldn’t do that on my own. It’s like a gift from Wisdom, though I didn’t see it as a gift when it was given to me.” Ki’ti did a palm strike. “You see, right now, Ahna is hearing the stories for the first time. It will take some time for her to begin to be able to tell them word for word. If she begins to tell them word for word, then, we will know she has not only the belly for Wisdom but also the gift of memory from Wisdom. Right now all we know is that clearly she has a belly for Wisdom.”

  “Now, I understand.” Untuk-na grinned and did a palm strike. Ki’ti joined him with a palm strike.

  “We know what the circles around the point are now.” Untuk-na said.

  “Yes. I had thought,” Ki’ti replied, “at first, that the point surrounded by circles was a ripple like you’d get if you tossed a pebble into water. Manak-na’s explanation showed it moves very differently.”

  “You saw movement in the drawing? To me it was just a drawing. What do you think of the spiral?” Untuk asked looking at the symbols on the wall.

  “First, it makes me think of Elemaea’s and Ahna’s hair, she laughed. “But there’s more to it. I can easily see that, unlike the point with the circles, the spiral more clearly implies movement. There is a going to a point or beginning at a point and moving outward, like life. But what these people who did this meant—I have no understanding. All this appears to have something to do with the sky. I look at it and see life because of the movement implied in the spiral. Maybe the sky and life are not different? I do not understand.”

  “What it says to me is that the whole sky—everything, including us on earth started at a point. There was a point for the sky, a point for the earth, a point for this tree, a point for Tiriku, a point for me, and a point for you. Each goes through changes and changes to this widest point, and then it begins to retrace itself to the point. At the point is where all the great energy for each begins and where it ends. I also see it useful in looking at a single life. It could show the most enormous sky and the tiniest form of life.” Untuk-na felt awkward sharing his thoughts.

  “Untuk-na, are you saying that you think all we see out there will ultimately end? That’s horrifying to contemplate! We know from Wisdom that death is but another beginning of forever, a life outside of time or seasons, days and nights, years. We remain as spirits. But for all that we see to end—that’s beyond the scope of my mind web. It would be something to fear.” That all things visible might end was a new thought to Ki’ti, and she was trying to make sense of it in her mind web. The very idea of an end to all things created was beyond her comprehension.

  “Well, look at us,” Untuk-na said. “Wisdom created all that is out there—and us. We were born and we die. We are given energy and we live until it runs out. Why wouldn’t it be the same for out there? But, yes, I can see that the point of the spiral might show our entrance into time, our birth. A star might have a created birth and an eventual death—its own spiral. Then when we return to the point, the point disappears and we are outside of time in this forever? You told me that Wisdom does not live in time. Is it possible that what we see with earth eyes is time, and what we cannot see, without spirit eyes, is forever?” Untuk-na was excited to be discussing these things. He felt alive, invigorated, and challenged.

  “I think there are rules for being in time. Time implies a beginning and end. Wisdom is forever—outside of time—and the rules that apply to us do not apply to Wisdom. I think that I’m at the edge of understanding something. Ever since Manak-na returned with his information about the earth, my mind web has been overworked,” Ki’ti said. “You have just greatly expanded it again. Untuk-na I will have to think on these things.”

  “Ah, Ki’ti. I thank Wisdom daily that I met you. I would take nothing for this life we share. Gathering this information makes music for my mind web to dance to. It’s like food for the belly of a starving person. I love to learn and to entertain new thoughts!” He did another palm strike.

  “You’re going to make your hand swell,” Ki’ti laughed about the multiple palm strikes.

  “Right now I am just filled with newness. It’s good, and I won’t do another palm strike. It is good to do them, for they make statements, wonderful statements for which there are no words or the words would take too long.”

  “I know,” Ki’ti said seriously, “They’re going to stop being used. Palm strikes may have their own spiral. But there is such expression available with them. I shall sorrow when they’re not used any longer.” Ki’ti gently coughed. The two headed back to the cave.

  Back inside the cave, Manak-na and Tongip-na were having a heated discussion.

  “It’s just time that you stop the finger showing and give words to the numbers. Didn’t the boatmen find it odd that you had no words for numbers?”

  “If they did, they never said so,” Manak-na said with a little irritation.

  “Well,” Tongip-na said with his hands on his hips, “it’s time. You understand Mol numbers when we say them. You must have understood the boatmen.”

  “I understood them, and they understood me. I don’t see a problem.” Manak-na sat down on his rolled sleeping skins.

  “Your use of our language is very good since you’ve been with the boatmen, but you still use numbers with your hands instead of the numbers you know. You are so smart! I want other people to see you and know how smart you are.”

  “My using hands or numbers in your language doesn’t tell anyone else whether I am smart.” Manak-na was irritated. “Besides, when we do numbers, we use” he showed five fingers on each hand “while you only use” he showed four fingers. “I like our way of doing it better.”

  “Manak-na, there is no reason not to give your numbers a name and still use them in words. You could use our numbers and then add the two extra ones you use for thumbs. You could count: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and then the next number could be what?”

  Manak-na looked at him with a frown. “Nine.”

  Tongip-na followed, “And the last one, would be what?”

  “Ten,” Manak-na said, beginning to wonder whether it didn’t, after all, make sense to change their finger count to w
ords. Sometimes they had to interrupt their talking to lay some burden down before continuing a conversation to show a number instead of saying it. He hadn’t questioned it. It was simply what they did.

  Tongip-na touched an index finger to a thumb and said, “Nine.” And then he touched the other index finger to the other thumb and said, “Ten. I can learn this quickly. Almost all of us speak both languages to some extent now. It would be easy to make this shift from fingers to words.”

  “We will discuss it at the men’s council,” Manak-na said.

  Tongip-na lowered his head. He thought that finally his constant chipping away at Manak-na’s resistance had been successful.

  Manak-na thought about making the shift also. He was very aware that the Mol had a verbal way of counting but it didn’t go as far as theirs. To count three tens, Manak-na knew, would require the Mol language statement of “four—two—three—four—five—six.” Manak-na reasoned that there would need to be a number for two tens, and three tens and so on for the language of the People. He also realized that there would need to be a number for ten tens. That would keep the numbers clear. But using a count of ten definitely counted farther than the Mol’s numbers. To count to their highest number they would be counting to eight eights. They’d go through the process to eight—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight. They could count to six tens plus four. The People could count at least to ten tens. If they gave the number ten tens an additional ten tens, a name of two ten tens, then they could count to ten ten tens. That number was staggering to contemplate.

  In another part of the cave, Elemaea had finished making spear points and was trying to chip out a core, but she just couldn’t master the larger work.

  “Elemaea, you are pushing yourself to do what your hands are not yet ready to do,” Ekuktu-na said calmly. “I know you want full mastery, but your body is not ready yet, for your hands are too small. You already do excellent work with the spear points, so why not forget the cores for now and work on knives.”

  Elemaea looked up, surprised. “I thought knives were harder to do than cores.”

  “Not really. You’ll have to learn to attach them to the antler points we have in the storage area, but I think you could work them well. I’m thinking there would be many uses for smaller knives. Women might use them for making garments or cutting off a smaller piece of meat. You could create something that doesn’t already exist.”

  Elemaea was fascinated at the idea of doing something that had not yet been done. She didn’t see the subtle effort Ekuktu-na was making to get her to shift focus from the larger item to a smaller one that would be best suited to her small hands. Eventually her hands would grow, but he wanted her to stay interested in what she was doing, not continue to want to do what she wasn’t ready to do. He went to the storage area and returned with some supplies for making the blade. Elemaea was delighted for the challenge and the change in object.

  The women almost had the evening meal ready. The call went out. People began to gather to eat. Wisdom was sucking the color from the land and it was getting cold enough outside to require head and hand coverings for comfort when going out.

  There was variety in food available. Root vegetables were cooked with greens they had dried, and the meat was from a variety of deer, aurochs, and jerky. They ate and cleaned up, hoping the men’s council would be brief, because they were eager for stories.

  The men’s council began. Gumokut looked at Ki’ti for the signal to speak. She said, “Gumokut, please go ahead.”

  Gumokut began, “Lolmeg, Flinee, and Maylue and I have talked at length about a return to our people. We think we came on this trek without enough thought. We did not expect to miss our people so severely. In the morning we plan to return to our home. That is all I have to say.”

  Everyone was shocked.

  “You are sure you’d not prefer to stay until the season of new leaves?” Ki’ti asked with concern.

  “Yes. We are young and strong and can move quickly. We can find the way since we have already made the trip. We would like to fill our backpacks with jerky.”

  “Of course,” Ki’ti said. There were murmurings all around. If they would make the trip there was no way to prevent them, but it was a dangerous trek they planned. Unwise at this time of the year.

  Ki’ti noticed that Ermi-na was looking at her with a desire to speak. She nodded towards him.

  “I have studied for a long time the words Manak-na brought about the earth circling the sun. There is much circling in the sky with the non-twinklers circling the suns and the moon circling the earth. I find that there must be one other circling.” He paused, checking to see that others were following his reasoning. “I see that the earth must turn in circles as it rotates around the sun. My reasoning is this. You compared the earth once to meat on a spit where the sun was the hearth. If the meat on the spit is not turned, one side will be burnt while the other side is uncooked. So the earth must spin in its rotation around the sun to keep the whole earth warm and not burnt on one side and cold on the other. When it spins us towards the sun it is day and when it spins us away from the sun it is night. And that makes me know why it seems that the sun circles around the earth, which we used to think. If the earth spins, it would make it look like the sun circles the earth—when it doesn’t. Also, we know the moon does not spin like the earth, because we always see the same side of it even when we see it in daylight.”

  For a long time there was silence everywhere except for the hearth fires. Manak-na went silently to his belongings and pulled out the coconut. He placed more wood on the fire. He held the coconut up so the fire light shone on it. Slowly he turned the coconut while looking at the part of the coconut where Rokuk’s drawing was.

  Manak-na didn’t wait for Ki’ti to give him permission to speak. He was too excited. “Ermi-na, that’s brilliant! Anyone want to look at what happens here?” He asked the council and the larger group.

  Because of where they sat, many People saw what Manak-na had seen. Several People wanted a better view, and they went to stand behind Manak-na to view what he saw. He showed them how the light and dark of night and day were visible on the coconut as the earth turned. Most People had no idea what was so exciting about light on a coconut, but for those who did, they were astounded. One of the most excited men was Nanichak-na. Silently, he thanked Wisdom that he was able to learn these things before it was time for him to die. All in Wisdom’s creation seemed in motion, sometimes rotating, sometimes spinning, and sometimes doing both at the same time. Yomuk understood, but it was not an exciting revelation to him. To Elemaea it was delightful information. To Ahna it was as if more mystery were unveiled. It gave her insight into the night sky. Since Wisdom made the twinklers and the non-twinklers, and Wisdom made them spin and rotate, didn’t that say something about Wisdom? she wondered. But what did it say? That life involved motion? That answer was beyond her. Her life had changed so fast and with so much more depth.

  Tongip-na sought Ki’ti’s attention.

  “Tongip-na, please speak,” Ki’ti said when the People had returned to sitting quietly.

  “Manak-na and I were talking earlier about counting. The People use fingers to display numbers. We use words. The People use thumbs as well as fingers to count. We use only fingers without the thumbs. When People speak but need to display a number, sometimes they have to lay down a spear or something else just to display the number. Having a spoken number makes that effort unnecessary. Also, there is some difficulty understanding the numbers. When the People show two hands twice, that means a different number from what we mean when we say two eights or two—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight. In our way of counting, we’d have fewer for a double number than the People would have for a double number. We need to develop a standard way of counting so we understand the count better.”

  The People and the former Mol understood the problem. They lived with it.

  Hahami-na looked at Ki’ti for a nod to speak.


  “Hahami-na, please speak,” Ki’ti said.

  “This is something I’ve done for a long time. I use vertical lines for counts and a horizontal line for nothing. None of our numbering ways provide for the lack of something. Let’s say that we hunt for five days. On day one we return with three kills. I would mark three vertical lines on a branch or piece of wood. The next day we return with one kill. I would mark one vertical line under the three vertical lines. The next day we return with no kills. I would mark one horizontal line under the one vertical line. The next day we return with four kills. I would mark four vertical lines under the horizontal line. The final day we return with two kills. I’d mark two vertical lines under the four vertical lines. My lines show a true count of the number of kills and the number of hunting trips. My horizontal line is called zero. It represents the first little finger on our hands. I draw vertical lines to represent the other fingers.”

  Manak-na waited for recognition from Ki’ti. When he got it, he said, “This could be a very exciting improvement in our counting. I will suggest that Hahami-na, Tongip-na and any others who are interested gather tomorrow to see if we can work out a plan for use of numbers that will be standard for all of us with a consideration of using the zero that Hahami-na has used.”

  “Do all approve?” Ki’ti asked.

  All the People nodded approval.

  “Are there others who would like to join this planning group?” Ki’ti asked. Her mind web was spinning. There was suddenly so much to learn.

  Slamika-na, Untuk-na, and Sum-na indicated they would like to join.

  “Very well,” Ki’ti said. “Are there other things to bring to the council?”

  The People looked down. No one sought Ki’ti’s nod to speak.

  “The council ends,” Ki’ti said quietly with many thoughts in her mind web.

  “We will have a story shortly,” Ki’ti said. She knew that there would be some desire to chat after such significant issues had been brought to the council. She would give them time to change to readiness for a story. A few People left for the privy; some put little sleeping children on their sleeping skins and covered them for the night; some got water to drink. A couple got a skin to put around their shoulders. Some went to the Mol to express concern for their travel in the season of cold days. They feared the Mol might not survive the journey.