Manak-na's Story, 75,000 BC

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Manak-na's Story, 75,000 BC Page 32

by Bonnye Matthews


  Likichi smiled at her daughter. She still thought of her as her daughter even though Emaea had adopted her while she was a child. “To answer your question in one word, yes.”

  “I deserve that,” Ki’ti replied.

  “There are times, my Dear, that you remain Little Girl. By failing to rest properly, you postpone your recovery.”

  Ki’ti moaned. She wondered how to give in to rest and make her mind web and spirit stop working. She had no idea.

  Later when Untuk-na stopped by, Ki’ti asked him to carve out a little of the cave side to make a shelf on the wall behind her. He asked what she had in mind.

  “I’d like to have a small shelf to place things set aside for Wisdom. I’d like to put special things there like the stone that Manak-na brought.

  “What about the little owl that was Wamumur’s?” As soon as he said the words, both looked at each other in surprise. “That should have been given to Ahna, shouldn’t it?” Untuk-na asked her.

  “Yes. Do you have it on you?”

  “Of course. I keep it tied to my waist band.” Untuk-na pulled the little pouch from his waist band.

  “Ahna,” Ki’ti called.

  Ahna appeared swiftly and seated herself on Ki’ti’s sleeping skins.

  “Ahna, do you know what is around my neck?” Ki’ti asked.

  “A skin pouch.”

  “Do you know what’s in it?” Ki’ti asked.

  “No.” Ahna was wondering what was the point of all the questions.

  Ki’ti pulled the pouch on its leather strip over her head. She opened it and showed the little owl to Ahna. She showed her how to see the owl. Ahna was fascinated.

  Years and years and years ago, a man named Torkiz, who was related to Wamumur, the Wise One before me, made these owls. Torkiz lived far, far, far away to the west. Torkiz’s People chased him away from them, but they kept the owls. Torkiz traveled to the place where we used to live before we moved here. The man had made many owls but left with only three. One owl lives with the Mol back where we used to live. It is broken. This one is mine. It belonged to Ilea, the Mol woman Torkiz loved. Untuk-na has been carrying the one that Wamumur wore, keeping it for the Wise One who follows me. It is yours. Untuk-na showed her the pouch he carried. He reached into it, withdrew the owl, and showed it to her. He laid it on her hand. Ahna looked at the shining yellow rock carved to look like an owl. The way it captured light sent chills all over her. To have entrusted to her something so lovely was beyond her comprehension. She looked at Ki’ti and Untuk-na with tears in her eyes. Untuk-na picked up the owl from Ahna’s hand and put it back into the pouch. He slipped the leather looped strap which was threaded through the circular pouch over Ahna’s head. Ki’ti put her owl back into the pouch and put the looped strap over her head.

  “It’s yours now,” Ki’ti said. “Take good care of it.”

  “I will,” Ahna whispered. She was overwhelmed and feared she might cry. The change from where she was born to where she was now was so large that often she would wait to awaken from a dream to find someone about ready to strike her for laziness or some other reason. The weight of the soft little pouch against her neck made her realize that this was not a dream. Perhaps she had cause to thank the bird man. For years she’d wished he’d never spoken about her leaving. She would have been treated better, if her people had thought she wasn’t planning to reject them based on the bird man’s statement that she’d leave. But the bird man must have known somehow that she had to be here to keep and tell the stories. What a wonderful life she had now. But sometimes, deep down inside, she wondered whether it would last. Was it just too good to last? Did she really deserve this? She knew time would make all things clear. She returned to repeating the stories.

  Meeka and Liho sought Elemaea and found her at the back of the cave coming up from gathering gourds of water. “You’re just the one we seek,” Meeka said smiling.

  “What can I do for you?” Elemaea said returning the smile.

  “It’s what you’ve done for us.” Liho said. “The knives are wonderful. I’ve used mine for cutting skins into patterns for hand coverings, slicing vegetables for stews, and cutting meat for portions for the evening meals. They are well suited to our tasks. I want to thank you for making my work easier.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad you like them. I enjoy making them so much.”

  “You do great work and your knives are also beautiful,” Meeka added.

  “I have to admit, I look through the supplies to find the stones that are the prettiest for the women’s knives.” Elemaea lowered her head.

  “Well, for me it makes any task easier when the tool I use is so attractive,” Liho said.

  “Is there anything I can do to make the knives better for you?” Elemaea asked.

  “Not for me, Elemaea, they are great just as they are,” Meeka replied.

  “I agree with Meeka,” Liho said.

  “Thank you both for letting me know. If you find any way I can improve them, please let me know. Also, if they chip off and you need them sharpened, let me know.”

  Elemaea turned and headed towards the far corner where she and Ekuktu-na worked the tools. On her way Smosh stopped her.

  “Elemaea, I’ve broken my spear tip. Can you fix me a new one and put it back on the spear before tomorrow?”

  She looked at him surprised. “Let me see the spear.”

  He handed it to her. She examined it carefully and then looked at him sharply. “What happened to this spear tip?” she asked.

  Smosh, twice her age, lowered his head to her. “I dropped it,” he admitted.

  “I’d try to get it finished by tomorrow, if it were repairable. I can’t just repair this spear tip. You need a new one. Soon you’ll need a new shaft for this spear.”

  “How can you tell?” he asked with surprise.

  “See this little line right here?” She showed him a tiny line barely visible on the shaft.

  “Yes. But it’s really faint.”

  “It is. That doesn’t mean it’s good. You could spear a large animal and when you go to withdraw your spear for reuse, you could find that this faint little line is a wide crack and your spear would be worthless. You should replace it before the season of new leaves. I’ll be glad to remount a tip when you have a new shaft.”

  “Thank you, Elemaea. You’ve taught me something today.”

  Elemaea looked at him with a small smile. Sometimes she wondered about hunters. If I’d been a hunter, she thought, I’d be constantly checking the soundness of my weapons.

  Shukmu, Smosh, Elet, and Cam gathered at the entryway to dress warmly, get their spears, and head towards the valley. Smosh borrowed his father’s spear. Lai-na was willing to lend it, warning him in pleasantry not to drop it. The young men had bags of snares and were dressing in their season-of-cold-days garments ready to set snares for small animals. They had seen many rabbit tracks at the edges of the valley and they wanted to see how successful they could be with snares in the white rain. When they reached the lower part of the hill, Shukmu and Elet went to the north and Cam and Smosh went to the south. They hoped for great success.

  Ki’ti lay on her sleeping skins. She had finally reached a state of full relaxation. Likichi had noticed and told her so.

  “I feel like a bag of rocks that has just been emptied.”

  “That is good. Now, hopefully, your body can find the means to heal itself.”

  “What has my body been doing while I lay here?” Ki’ti asked thinking her body had been healing.

  “You’ve been fighting yourself, best I can tell.”

  “What?” Ki’ti raised herself up on her elbows.

  “You’ve been telling yourself you should be doing this and that, instead of relaxing so your body can heal itself.”

  “You mean to tell me that in order to get back on my feet, I have to feel like an emptied sack of rocks and not be concerned about other things?”

  “That’s what I’ve tried to tell you sinc
e your collapse.” Likichi was enjoying finally being able to reach Ki’ti.

  “How long must I be like an emptied sack of rocks?

  “Until I tell you you’re free to get up.”

  Ki’ti lay back on the skins. Likichi left and Untuk-na came over to her.

  “You’ve done a great job of making that shelf, Untuk-na. Will you put the falling star on it, please?”

  Untuk-na took the stone from her and put it on the shelf.

  “You look like you’re finally resting,” he said as he sat beside her.

  “Likichi just told me that this is how I must rest to heal.”

  “Good. I’m glad you finally can see that.”

  “How is it that this is something everyone seems to know except for me?”

  “You’re just too hard headed, Little Girl,” he whispered teasing.

  She lifted herself back up.

  “No, none of that!” he said recognizing her attempt to fight the term Little Girl. “You just keep resting. We do need you, you know.” He leaned over her with a wicked smile. “And there’s a cave I want to introduce you to.”

  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. She determined to work at resting and then laughed as she realized how incongruous her thoughts were.

  “Why are you laughing?” Untuk-na asked.

  “It just crossed my mind that I should really work at resting. Just some incongruity, Untuk-na.”

  “I’ll say. Just rest. Empty out all those thoughts.” He got up and headed to the entryway. His heart was filled with Ki’ti. How it hurt him to see her struggling to rest. How eager he was for her to return to good health. He put it in his mind web that never again could he allow her to push herself to the point she had. Responsibility didn’t show. It couldn’t be weighed, but the weight she carried in responsibility, he thought, more than equaled any weight he carried on treks. Work that others did with their hands never exceeded the work she did in her mind web and spirit, but what other People did and what she did differed in what there was to show visibly for it. He was beginning to see what she carried. Yomuk had thought they were lazy. He like others was blind to what she did and the load she carried. Yomuk wasn’t the only blind one. Untuk-na berated himself for his own blindness.

  Wisdom was sucking color from the land, not that there was much color out there. Light was giving sway to darkness in the black and white of the outside environment. The young men who set the snares were back and the home cave hummed with desire for the evening meal. Ki’ti had actually fallen to sleep. Tiriku curled into an arc between her shoulder and head.

  Untuk-na got his food bowl and Ki’ti’s. He was unsure whether to wake her, but when he sat on their sleeping skins, she opened her eyes.

  “I must have fallen asleep,” she said slightly groggy.

  “That’s when you heal yourself,” he replied. “Sit up. You have good food here.”

  She tasted it. “What is this?” she asked surprised.

  “Kai-na and Manak-na took a caribou. Manak-na wanted the skin for Domur’s sleeping skins. This is caribou.”

  She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s really good meat,” she said with some enthusiasm.

  “I agree,” Untuk-na said smiling. It was the first time since she had collapsed that she had been enthusiastic about food.

  “I like it a lot. I haven’t seen a caribou. Where are they?”

  “That one was high in the hills.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “More white rain!” someone shouted and a few went to look. Huge flakes were falling like feathers windborne from a plucked goose. It was an awesome sight for those who took the time to look.

  “Wonder what that’ll do to our snares,” Elet mused.

  “Will we ever hunt again?” another said from somewhere in the home cave.

  “Maybe it’s just a light one,” another added.

  Little conversations were occurring all over. It was a good evening.

  “Excuse me,” the voice of Grypchon-na silenced all. “Tonight there will be no council meeting for there is nothing to discuss. There will be a story after cleanup.”

  Likichi brought Ki’ti a cup of chamomile tea. It wasn’t one that Ki’ti favored, but she drank it. Untuk-na rearranged the sleeping skins and Ki’ti settled back comfortably to rest. Very quickly she was asleep.

  Ahna wondered whether her choice of story was a good one, but then she realized any one of the stories was a good one. People gathered and Ahna said in a good strong voice, “This is an old story. It is the story of Moraka-na and Pekutla-na.”

  “Long ago far south from here, Moraka-na and Pekutla-na were planning to cut down a tree to place over a river so they could reach the other side by walking over the tree trunk. A large tree grew by the river bank and they chose that one. They had their hand axes and knew it would take much effort to cut that one down. Other People came to help chop. They used a variety of tools to cut down the tree.”

  “They had learned how to chop the tree down to make it fall in the direction they wanted. They made the wedge and continued on making it larger, for the tree was very thick. If they were successful the tree would fall across the river from bank to bank. For days the People worked to chop the tree down. From time to time, men would put their hands high on the tree and push in the desired direction of the fall. It continued to hold.”

  “Moraka-na got up one morning and said that he thought the tree would fall that day. He urged all those who watched the chopping to stay out of the way. He even said they should stay far enough away that, if it fell in a different direction, they should be safe.”

  “The People trusted the hunters that were chopping away at the tree making the wedge larger and larger. Suddenly, the tree made an explosive sound and fell away from the river opposite to where they expected it to fall. It twisted on its fall and frightened the People terribly. A man named Amatlen-na was trapped under the tree where he died. The tree was so thick the man was never seen again. The People could not understand what happened.”

  “Finally two men from the Mol came by and they showed the People what happened that awful day. The men showed the People that they had chopped down a left handed tree. If you put your hand on a tree, with your thumbs up, the bark makes lines that go either like the fingers on a right hand or the fingers on a left hand. Left handed trees don’t fall like right handed trees—they are unpredictable. They went to the river and showed the People how the bark went to the left up the tree, not to the right.”

  “The People decided to test the Mol’s tree knowledge. They found another large tree downstream from the left handed tree that fell the wrong way. This was a right handed tree. They spent days cutting down the large right handed tree. Again the People came to help the cutters and to watch. All were careful to stay out of the way of the fall, whichever way it might fall. This time when one of the People pushed the trunk of the large tree, it fell exactly the way it was supposed to fall—from one side of the river to the other.”

  “From that time, when People plan to cut down a tree, they will check to be sure that they are cutting down a right handed tree.”

  Ahna watched the children after the story. They held up their hands and their parents would help them see what way the bark on a right handed tree would grow and how it would grow on a left handed tree.

  Hearth fires were dying down. It was time for sleep. Quietly People headed for their sleeping skins.

  Days passed in the black and white world of the season of cold days. Over time Ki’ti began to recover from her exhaustion and was finally released from forced rest by Likichi. She was terribly weak from disuse of her muscles, but she was relieved to be able to participate in cave life actively. She was grateful to Ahna for telling the stories at night. She’d listened, delighting that the girl had done so well. She told her later she approved.

  Ki’ti had been having recurring dreams while she’d been resting. She kept seeing people from the north near the big l
ake, people with darker skins and brown eyes, people a little different from those she recognized—but people nevertheless. They were well nourished and their faces were rounded. They were living there where it was very cold, and they seemed to be thriving. She also saw them travel in her dreams to the place where the boatbuilders lived. Were the boatbuilders a little different? she wondered. Certainly Kipotuilak looked like the Mol, but a little different. She put in her mind web to ask Manak-na about the boatbuilders. She wanted to know what they looked like. The People knew the Minguat, the Mol, and themselves. Were there other humans that looked a little different? Maybe where people lived made a difference in how they looked? She was fascinated.

  Manak-na, Yomuk, Sum-na, Tongip-na, and Lamk-na had been hammering out squared off stones to line the observation place wall so the People could see out by standing on the elevated stones. They used the wall in the storage cave for the source of the stones to take to the observation place. They hoped to learn how to use the observation place once they could look outside easily. They worked carefully trying to make the stones as squared off as possible with their tools. They needed only two more stones to complete the work. Getting the stones from the storage cave to the observation place was difficult. They used an aurochs skin to slide the stone and it took ten men to pull the skin to the observation place. They hoped they wouldn’t destroy more than one skin to do the job. Then at each end of the elevated stones, they would add steps made from more stones to get to the elevated level without having to climb up. The men still marveled at the height of giants who could, no doubt, look out the windows without the elevated stones.

  In the meat preparation cave, women who worked the skins were just finishing up the caribou sleeping skin that Manak-na wanted for Domur. All were impressed with the wonderful softness of the fur. They knew Domur would love it. Some of the women had already decided they would ask their hunter husband to get one for them.

  Domur had finished the red ochre balls for Manak-na and had taken the extra ones to the storage cave, each wrapped in a leather pouch with a looped leather strip to go over Manak-na’s head. A nice place had been set up for things made in advance of need in the back of the cave. Men who were carving out stones for the observation place were cautioned to be careful not to harm the items women had placed in the storage cave. The men had used old leather for covering the stored items. They would sweep the cave thoroughly when they were finished. All worked diligently glad to know that they had a home at last.

 

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