Manak-na's Story, 75,000 BC

by Bonnye Matthews

  The white rain was light and swept well. Ermi-na went to the base of the path that led downhill and began to sweep the white rain from side to side, making a walkway to the site they’d chosen. White rain crystals became airborne again and sparkled in the sunlight. He took a moment to watch the sparkling crystals. He considered it would be a delightful experience if it weren’t caused by such sadness. Then he turned his thoughts to the fact that Nanichak-na never had to go through age related problems. He was hearty until the end. Ermi-na felt that was good for Nanichak-na. It didn’t help reduce the pain he already felt from missing his friend, however.

  Sum-na, Guy-na, and Slamika-na had already discovered that the very top of the ground was frozen. Each used an adze to chop through the frozen ground where the grave would be. Once through the frozen ground, the digging was normal. The dug vegetation and dirt stained the white rain. The men noticed but said nothing as if such thoughts were unworthy. When they finished the grave digging, they asked about stones. Ermi-na suggested they go to the place where they’d removed the body of the evil one and take the stones they’d created when they destroyed the evil pictures.

  “Would that desecrate the grave of our special friend?” Guy-na asked.

  Slamika-na looked up, surprised at the question. “That man is buried and his paintings destroyed. The rocks have no power. I see no reason not to use them. If it makes you feel better, I’ll ask the Wise One.”

  Guy-na said, “On our way to gather the stones, Slamika-na, please ask her. I’d feel better about it if she says it’s good to use them.”

  The men picked up their tools and left to return them to the home cave so they could gather the needed stones. Since the ones they had in mind were in a cave, it wouldn’t be difficult. Slamika-na sought the Wise One in the home cave. He found her sitting with Ahna going over stories.

  Ki’ti looked at Slamika-na standing in his outside clothing, rosy cheeked, and dripping. She nodded.

  “We have dug the grave for Izumu’s body. We wondered whether it would be a desecration to use the stones we made, when we broke up the painting in the cave of the evil man. Those stones are easily available, but we don’t want to do wrong by Nanichak-na. I don’t see that the rocks have any power, but you would know best.”

  Ki’ti smiled at Slamika-na. “It was good for you men to be so considerate. I agree with you. The rocks that were broken from the wall have no power. Feel free to use them. It will put them to good purpose.” Slamika-na lowered his head, turned, and went back outside.

  Ahna had watched the interaction carefully. She was uncertain how Ki’ti arrived at her answer. She asked.

  Ki’ti put her arm around Ahna. “In the cave of the evil man there were paintings. They showed a person who had made himself strong by having great power over others. It showed evil things, things People would not see as right. But, I had those paintings destroyed. I did that because when People see something evil, they can begin to conceive that what they see is good, right, or at least acceptable for no other reason than it is there. It can help People come to believe a lie. It makes People question what they know to be good or right. It fogs the mind web by planting foreign seeds of wrong ideas. We can think up plenty of wrong all by ourselves, without getting help from evil paintings. For anyone to have power over another—that is not Wisdom’s way. So the paintings were destroyed to prevent them from tempting our People. When the paintings were on the wall, they had no actual power except to influence others to think that what’s wrong was right or, worse, to think things they’d never think. Now the paintings are utterly destroyed and they have no power to influence anything. They’re just stones. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Wise One, I do understand. I also know what it is for people to have great power over others. It is not good.”

  “Let’s continue,” Ki’ti led Ahna back to the storytelling.

  Slamika-na reached the cave of the evil man and assured the men there that the stones were just stones now, and there would be no desecration to Nanichak-na’s grave to use those stones. Each man placed several stones in leather bags and began to carry them downhill to the grave site. Guy-na slipped and landed on his back. He was unhurt and the men gently laughed at the sight of him on his back on the white rain. He also laughed. It was a good release. He gathered the spilled rocks and continued on to deposit them at the grave site.

  When all was in order at the grave site, the men returned to the home cave. Slamika-na and Sum-na volunteered to carry Nanichak-na’s body to the grave site. The People in the home cave all began to dress in season-of-cold-days garments for the graveside ritual in the cold. Even Grypchon-na, whose joints caused him great pain, would make the trip to the grave. Tongip-na and Ekuktu-na would help him on the hill.

  They all gathered. The ritual saying what the deceased meant to them had begun. Tiriku sitting next to Ki’ti moved slightly. Ki’ti looked at the dog. He was looking up. Her eyes followed his. Sitting above them in the branches of a gingko tree was Raven. For once, Raven was silent. His mate flew to his side, and she was also silent. When the ring of People had finished their comments, Ki’ti turned to Ahna and said, “Ahna, tell the story.” It had not been planned, but Ki’ti’s mind web had traced back to a different time when she had told the story at the grave side of Enut. She knew Ahna could do it.

  Ahna was stunned, but she recovered well, and she began the old story. As Ki’ti listened, she heard just what she expected, Ahna told the story perfectly. Ki’ti was so pleased with her. Ki’ti knew that Nanichak-na would have been happy. She also knew she couldn’t have told the story without breaking down. Her Great Hunter gone. The pain was too much.

  Quietly all returned to the home cave. There were no flowers, nothing to add to the grave of this special man. Manak-na stopped. He returned to the site. He reached into his little bag of ochre, which he’d already used to paint his face that morning, and he put some of it on Nanichak-na’s forehead. Raven and his mate watched from their perch. Manak-na returned to the home cave. The men who dug the grave returned with tools to fill it in and put stones atop the site. Raven and his mate saw all that the men were doing. When the men left, Raven made an odd sound and flew off with his mate.

  Manak-na took off his outer wear and joined Domur on the rolled sleeping skins.

  “I heard what you did. That was thoughtful,” Domur told him. “Manak-na,” she said, “How do you make the ochre you have? It’s not in its natural form.”

  “I don’t know. Tikarumusa didn’t tell me that—only to be sure to use it daily.”

  “Do you know where any is locally? I’m asking because your supply is getting very small.”

  “I did see some atop the next hill to the west. It’s in an area where there are some odd stones and nothing grows there.”

  “Do I want to ask what you were doing over there?” Domur inquired.

  “My Dear One, I wrestled with myself when I realized I’d deserted you.” He put his arm around her shoulder. “Honestly, I hadn’t realized what it was doing to you when I left—I was following a childhood dream of my own. My mind web saw only Manak-na and his wants, in the same way that a hyena focuses on an opportunistic feast from the scent of a carcass upwind.” His belly knotted up with this outpouring of his thoughts. “I loathed myself when I understood the full impact of my actions, and yet I still felt drawn to explore and adventure. Somehow I felt it was my turn to do what I wanted.” He thought how empty that sounded, withdrew his arm from her shoulders, and picked at his thumb nail, looking down at his hand, not at her.

  “On the other side of the mountain, where no one would hear or know, I fought with myself. I realized there on the other side of the mountain that my true choice had been to adventure or join. We joined before I knew about that choice, but I would not have chosen adventure then. Because of my ignorance at that time, I didn’t realize I had cut off my own choice to adventure. Our joining brought me great happiness and made me feel such a man. But the childhood
dream of adventure never left.” He’d made his cuticle at the side of his thumb nail bleed, so he stuck the thumb in his mouth for a moment.

  “I experienced my childhood dream by deserting you. I knew down deep inside that my leaving hurt you, but I had no idea how much pain it caused. I closed my mind web to it.” His thumb continued to bleed and he put pressure on it. “I regret that. I am so sorry to have hurt you. I wish I could say I regret the adventure, but that would be a lie. It opened my mind web to so many things I didn’t know. It, too, made me feel such a man.” He checked the bleeding and it seemed to have stopped.

  He looked briefly right into her eyes. “My mind web opened my understanding when I finally realized that adventure had become to me as another woman. It was as if I had you and another for wives. Then I knew I went against nature. A male swan would not have two females! A man of the People would not have two wives! I purposed not to return from the other side of the hill, until I could decide which path to follow in the future.” He noticed the bleeding had started up again, so he put more pressure on the thumb.

  “Have I reached a decision? No.” He pressed harder than he intended. “It’s not that I fail to recognize what is Wisdom’s way or right or good for you and me or the People—I do. What is not easy is choosing what’s right and meaning it for the rest of my life. Making change either way is extremely difficult—for I have known both.” His head was lowered. He looked into her eyes again. “Some knowledge is not good.”

  Domur saw the contortions his face made. She felt for him in his agony. Obviously, he ached over the dilemma he had created for himself. “Manak-na, I take what I have from you a day at a time. I do not worry about tomorrow. Whatever occurs is what occurs. I will live my life and love every day I have. That has brought me peace. It has even brought me joy. I think you should go to that hill when you can and gather some ochre rocks. We need to learn how to turn it from rock to paint. Yours feels mixed with something like clay or fat or wax. I know it has been ground to a fine powder. It’ll take time to figure out what to do with it. If you bring me rocks, I’ll try to make some for you. But, Manak-na, you know better than to go alone. Promise you’ll get someone to go with you.”

  He reached for her hands, which she gave him willingly. “I promise.” He lowered his head.

  Domur didn’t try to understand what she couldn’t understand. She continued to take Manak-na at his word. At this time he wanted to be there, she mused. She had lost trust that he would remain. She would not let that fact fester into frustration. She turned loose of it and truly enjoyed each day and what came with it. Deep down Domur knew that Manak-na loved her. It would be easier in some ways, if he were infatuated with another woman. But Domur couldn’t compete with adventure without making Manak-na feel deep guilt, and she refused to do that. It would solve nothing, and it would make her an irascible person, she thought. She realized that Manak-na wrestled fiercely with the issue. The conflict was hurting him. She had nothing but time to see what would happen and either way, she knew now, she’d still have a productive and happy life regardless of his choice. She got up to see what the excitement at the other side of the cave was all about.

  Elemaea had made several women’s knives. It was her first try and she thought they might be helpful to the women who made things from skins. These knives were much smaller than the men’s knives. Elemaea had laid out numbers of the knives and women were free to take one, use it, and tell Elemaea how well it worked or what could be done to improve it. Domur picked up a knife. She and Minagle examined it together.

  “Not only does it look useful, it’s really beautiful,” Minagle said.

  “It fits my hand perfectly and seems to be very strong,” Domur added.

  Manak-na stopped by dressed for outdoors, carrying a broom, spear, and an adz. He told Domur that he and Kai-na would try to get some ochre. They were leaving now. From his small backpack hung two grass bags to carry the ochre rocks back to the home cave.

  She smiled and wished them well.

  “What was that about?” Minagle asked.

  “Manak-na is running low on ochre, and he knows where to find more. He’s going to get some. I told him I’d try to make some like what he carries. It has been prepared some way. We’ll have to figure it out.”

  “Why does he paint his face?” Minagle asked.

  “When he was on the other side of the earth, Ahna’s grandfather told him to paint his face that way every day and wash it off at night. He said the god of the underwater wants to hurt Manak-na, and this would protect him.”

  “Well, we’re pretty far from the sea.”

  “Manak-na told me the old man told him that the god of the underwater can leave the water for land.”

  “Manak-na believes this?”

  “He seems to. At least he doesn’t want to tempt the god of the underwater to hurt him.” Domur ran her finger gently over the cutting side of the knife. It was sharp!

  “We don’t have a god of the underwater,” Minagle stated the obvious.

  “I don’t know whether Manak-na has thought this through. I simply know that he does this ritual daily. I’m willing to help if it comforts him.”

  Hahami-na and Mootmu-na were sitting by the home cave fire warming up after the cold of being outside. Hahami-na asked, “Does it seem strange to you that in all this travel we have become aware of only a group of Minguat practicing war, Kipotuilak, the Mol who lives to the west but travels by boat on the sea, and the boatbuilders, whom we haven’t seen? Where are the people?”

  “I, too, have wondered. We are no threat, so there’s no need to hide from us. We’d see signs of human life if it were there. Even now young hunters still climb to the tallest peaks looking for smoke from hearth fires at night. I just see a great human emptiness on this land. The land has food available and many places to live. We see evidence of life here from giants long ago, not people of today.” Mootmu-na frowned.

  “I wonder about the cold. Do you suppose, since it gets colder the farther north we go, that humans decided it was too cold?”

  Mootmu-na frowned again. “Who can say? I do find it strange and limiting. Young girls will be restricted to the young boys of this group as they grow into maturity.”

  “That’s true,” Hahami-na agreed. “I remember Kipotuilak telling us that at the big lake you have to double your winter outerwear to stay warm. It must be very difficult to hunt there in winter, if it’s possible at all. With deeper white rain and two sets of clothing—I’d rather rely on meat sticks in the season of cold days than to try to hunt.”

  “I have begun to question whether we should keep going that far.” Mootmu-na was concerned about the effect it would have on the People to keep going to the big lake only to have to turn around and trek back many miles. “I think this is something to bring up at council.”

  “I agree with you, Mootmu-na. It’s time to discuss whether to continue north.”

  To the west Manak-na and Kai-na had made it to the second hill. They were sweeping the white rain aside when Kai-na signaled for silence. Soundlessly an animal they’d never seen stepped upon an outcropping downhill from the men. Each tried hard to guess what the animal was. Its back was about as high off the ground as the men’s chests. It had paired antlers that came forward a short distance and went back a much greater distance. It was a proud animal surveying the valley below.

  “It has the furry skin that I have seen occasionally at the place of the Mol.

  The fur is soft!”

  Manak-na said.

  “I don’t want to go for it; do you?” Kai-na asked.

  “Yes. I would love for Domur to have one of those for a sleeping skin. I’ll try to throw my spear, but it’ll be a chance in one thousand!” Manak-na said, using the new numbers.

  “I’ll help.” Kai-na said raising his spear.

  The two men quietly took their spears and stood at the edge of the hilltop. Manak-na nodded to Kai-na who then released his spear in a mighty thrust th
rough the air. Manak-na’s spear followed a split second later. Both spears found their target, which caused both men to look at each other in disbelief. They slid downhill to finish off the animal. The two men bled the animal, gutted it, and tied the feet together so they could carry it to the meat preparation cave on the spears. They did not choose to keep the entrails. Before heading back, they stopped to sweep the ground to locate the ochre, chip off enough to fill Manak-na’s bags full, and gather their tools and the animal to head back.

  The white rain was deep and both men labored to carry the meat home. They had to take high steps to get through the white rain without expending the energy it took to drag their feet through it. As it was, they were partly dragging the animal. Raven watched unnoticed from the tree tops. As soon as Raven felt comfortable with the distance the men made from the kill site, he swooped down and feasted on the discarded animal guts. He’d stop to fly to his mate and they would feast together. Not much escaped Raven’s notice.

  Somewhat winded, Manak-na said, “I finally remember what animal this is. It’s a caribou.”

  “A what?” Kai-na asked. He had a little difficulty hearing through his fur head covering.

  “Caribou,” Manak-na shouted.

  “It’s soft!” Kai-na shouted back.

  When they neared the cave, Mootmu-na and Tongip-na came to meet them.

  “I thought you went for ochre,” Tongip-na teased.

  “Well, Kai-na saw this caribou and didn’t want it, but I did. It will make Domur a great sleeping skin!”

  “Let me feel that,” Mootmu-na said.

  Manak-na and Kai-na remained still so the other men could feel the softness of the caribou.

  “Where did you find this?” Tongip-na asked.

  “On the other side of the second hill over from ours. Off to the west. We were atop the hill and it climbed to an outcrop just below us. I’m eager to know what the meat tastes like.”