“You have to come with me, Tiriku. It’s time to come. Ki’ti needs you.”
Tiriku sighed. He permitted Untuk-na to lift him to carry him back to the cave. It was clear that he was putting up with something he didn’t want. When Ki’ti saw him, she was delighted. She wiped rain from his coat and wrapped him in a skin to warm his little body which was quite cold.
“Tiriku, I love you, my funny little special dog. I don’t want to lose you. If you keep lying by Raven’s grave you will lose your life. You must get back to living.” She looked into Tiriku’s eyes and tried to communicate her need for him. He just looked miserable. She handed him a piece of meat. He held it in his mouth. He let it fall to the ground. Ki’ti tried again. She scolded him, telling him he must eat the meat. He swallowed it. She gulped, knowing he was pleasing her, not eating. She just held him wrapped in the warm skin. He didn’t fight. He just put up with her care. Ki’ti carried Tiriku over to Ahna where the two planned to work on the stories. She was afraid to put Tiriku down for fear that he’d just go back in the rain to die by Raven’s grave.
When it was time for the evening meal, Ki’ti noticed that Tiriku was asleep. She put him down so she could eat. Then it was time for the men’s council which would be very short that evening, or so she thought. As the meeting got underway, Ki’ti nodded towards Domur.
Domur said, “Last night I asked about accompanying Komus to his home. I had thought that with so few people around this part of the earth, it would be good to find people with whom to meet in the future so that young ones could find people with whom to join. I talked to Manak-na about it and he talked to Kai-na and Mitrak and to Tongip-na and Aryna. The six of us would like to accompany Komus to his home, if the People and Komus approve.”
Ki’ti looked at Komus.
“I would welcome accompaniment on the trip. My people would find it interesting to consider future meeting.”
Ki’ti looked up. No one was looking at her to speak. She asked whether any People felt the idea of the six going with Komus was not a good idea. All looked down. The six people would be accompanying Komus.
Elemaea looked at Ki’ti. Ki’ti was surprised but looked back and nodded.
“I would like to gather a few of my women’s knives, pack them, and give them to Komus so that they can be taken as a gift of goodwill to his people.”
“I would be grateful,” Komus said, surprised at the offer.
“I have just finished a good supply of combs,” Ekuktu-na said. “I would be glad to share some of them.”
“I would be grateful,” Komus said.
“I have some extra powdered ochre,” Domur said, “I’d be glad to share that.”
“I would be grateful. Please realize we can carry only so much extra,” Komus said.
The People took his comment to mean that they needed to stop adding things for the People to send to his people. The meeting became quiet.
There was no story that night. When the meeting stopped, Ki’ti chatted briefly and then returned to her sleeping skins to find Tiriku. She was not surprised. While the meeting took place, Tiriku had left. She knew that his little body was on the cold rainy ground next to his Raven friend. It ripped her belly and caused her to weep. To be certain, Untuk-na went to the grave site and sure enough the dog was there. He touched Tiriku’s head gently and told him he could stay. He also said farewell from Ki’ti and himself. Untuk-na would never forget the white face of the little dog with the sad eyes that looked at him the last time without moving any part of his body but his eyes.
When Wisdom returned color to the land, Untuk-na ran downhill to check on Tiriku. When he returned, he shook his head in a negative way when Ki’ti looked into his eyes. He called Tongip-na, and together they dug out the grave of Raven and made it larger. They laid Tiriku against the side of Raven, back to back, heads thrown back, beak to muzzle just as they’d done so many times in life. The graveside service was another eulogy said this time by Untuk-na. Ki’ti couldn’t talk. All the People gathered—including Komus. Komus was fascinated. He had never known anyone to have a dog, let alone a raven. For them to have been so close made no sense to him, but he realized it was fact. Komus watched Domur sprinkle red ochre on the bird and dog. Children had found early flowers and covered the animals with them. Each person who wanted to spoke about the animals. Then Untuk-na and Tongip-na covered the pair first with dirt and then with stones.
Ki’ti returned to her sleeping skins and covered herself and wept. She wept for Tiriku and Raven, for faithful love whether animal or person, for the temporary nature of life, for Raven’s mate wherever she might be, for Untuk-na who was clearly the love of her life, for Wisdom’s letting her know Tiriku and Raven. She wept until there was nothing left to weep. And then she slept. Untuk-na chose not to awaken her for the evening meal. Ahna presided over the men’s council. Hahami-na glimpsed movement from the corner of his eyes. He elbowed Untuk-na who turned just in time to see an extremely tiny pup waddle over to Ki’ti and lift the sleeping skin with its muzzle and climb under. Where, he wondered, did such a tiny pup come from? He’d never seen it. It made Tiriku look big! He wondered when Ki’ti would realize she had another dog.
When Wisdom restored color to the land with a brilliant sunrise, Ki’ti awakened. As soon as she moved, a small dog moved beside her. She had grieved Tiriku. She wasn’t dreaming. There was a small dog. She sat up. She looked under that sleeping skin and found the tiniest little pup she’d ever seen.
“Where did you come from?” Ki’ti asked. Then she laughed to herself. Wisdom! “You are so tiny, Little Girl,” she said to the pup. “I will have to call you Ti’ti—tiniest of the tiny. Are you sure you’re a dog?”
Ki’ti poked Untuk-na. He moved. She said, “I’m not ready for this, but here is the next dog. She is the tiniest dog I ever saw. Do you remember any dog this tiny being born around here?”
Untuk-na looked at the pup Ki’ti was holding. It looked smaller in her hand than when he’d seen it the previous night as it crawled into the sleeping skins with Ki’ti. “What did you name her?” he asked.
“Ti’ti. The tiniest of the tiny.”
“That could get confused with Ki’ti if the People still called you that.”
“I suppose so. She’s adorable, isn’t she? And she doesn’t remind me of any dog I ever had. That’s helpful. She is a dog, isn’t she?”
Untuk-na laughed out loud. “Definitely. And she has to be related to the ones who were here before. When she knew you were in your sleeping skins, she just waddled over, stuck her muzzle under your skins, and climbed in. Just like she knew what to do.”
“Speaking of knowing what to do, I suppose she knows to go out when she needs to go.” Ki’ti put the pup down. Ti’ti scampered to the entryway and disappeared. Shortly afterwards, Ti’ti returned to Ki’ti. She knew what to do. She’d lived with the other dogs all her short life. There was no dog privy scent in the home cave. She knew where to go.
In another part of the cave, Manak-na, Tongip-na, and Kai-na were meeting with Komus discussing what they’d need to take for the trip. The women were with their husbands listening and occasionally asking questions. All six of the People were excited to be taking a trip where they could make some speed and see different things. They were eager for the change. The men had already decided to carry more than their share of the weight. The women would have to be walking faster than they normally did, and until they got used to it, they’d need the lighter weights.
After all had been decided, Manak-na and Domur walked outside to the observation place. They climbed up on the platform built of stone, and they looked north.
“Domur, why did you choose to do this? I am excited to be doing this with you, but I feel that in some ways I’m not supposed to be adventuring.”
“My husband,” Domur said, “when you adventured on the sea, you left me and the People to do something for yourself alone. Of course, Wisdom made it so you had a tag along in Yomuk-na, but it was
basically a thing you did for yourself. And you did bring back information for the People, not to mention bringing Ahna to be the next Wise One. But those were Wisdom’s additions, not your plan. This is different because it’s part of a group of People, and what you bring back in terms of information will benefit the People. It’s not your doing it for yourself, but you’re participating in a group effort to benefit the People.”
“I see the difference you’re pointing out. One is selfish. The other is not.”
“To be brutally truthful, yes.” Domur looked at him. She could see it still hurt him to know that he’d hurt her.
“Manak-na, I want you to stop carrying the fact that you once deserted me. You must get past that and live without continuing to put the past in front of your mind web. I am quite sure you’ll remember that you made a commitment and that you’ll keep it. Please, for both of us, turn loose of that memory that causes you to beat yourself. It’s over and finished. Let’s move from there to our future.”
“How did I manage to have you for a wife?” he asked truly meaning his respect for Domur.
“I snared you before you were old enough to be wise, my Dear One. I knew how special you were and are.”
“I love you.” He lowered his head.
Domur took his chin in her hand and raised it. She said, “I know. I also love you.” She kissed him.
The two looked north for a short while and then returned to the home cave to ready things for the trek that would begin with Wisdom’s restoring color to the land.
That evening was quiet. The People had a very short men’s council and spent time trying to help those who would be trekking to have everything they needed at the ready for morning.
Manak-na and Domur stopped to talk to Ki’ti. They sat on her sleeping skins beside her. “Is there anything special you’d like us to learn from this trip or share with the people of Komus from you?” Manak-na asked.
“I hope that by now you know what the People need, and you will do what you did when you went on your adventure—bring back everything new that you encounter to share. While you’re gone, share carefully with those you do not know. Most of all take care of yourselves and the other four who go with you. Be certain that all six of you return as well as you leave. You must return before the season of cold days. This is very important, though for the life of me, I do not know why I’m saying that. I only know it’s very important. Make your time count for something. Keep your eyes and ears alert for danger. Keep yourselves close to Wisdom and call out when you need help—without waiting. You have your garments for the season of cold days?”
“Yes, of course.” Manak-na was surprised she’d ask that. It went without saying that hunters would be prepared.
“I know what you are thinking, my Brother. Check again for all six of you. There are three People going who do not hunt.”
“I wonder whether I have forgotten something,” Domur said absentmindedly. Later they would find that Aryna had forgotten to pack her season-of-cold-days boots.
“Wise One, that tiny dog is adorable,” Domur said watching Ti’ti play with a piece of Ki’ti’s tunic.
“I think she is very special. How she came to be so tiny, I have no idea.” Ti’ti stopped playing and looked deep into Ki’ti’s eyes. The tiny dog curled up in the lap of her tunic and rested her head on Ki’ti’s leg. Ki’ti began to cough. The cough had reduced but still lingered.
“Please be sure I am awake before you leave. I must say farewell for this trip,” Ki’ti said with a gentle hand on Ti’ti’s head.
“Of course, we will,” Manak-na assured her. “Sleep well, my Sister.” Manak-na extended a hand to Domur to help her stand. She took his hand eagerly.
Ki’ti smiled and nodded. She reached for Domur’s other hand. Looking deep into Domur’s eyes, she said, “My Sister, you have done so well. I approve of you so much more than you’d ever know. I must say this to you, so that you know.” She squeezed Domur’s hand.
Domur returned the squeeze to Ki’ti’s hand. Use of the term Sister was very special and Domur’s throat constricted at the word. She knew Ki’ti was talking about how she handled Manak-na’s adventure. She probably knew the entire event, but Domur would never ask. She just knew Ki’ti was well pleased, which gave her a sense of gratification that would be achieved no other way than to hear it from the Wise One. Something was bothering Domur about this time with Ki’ti, but she couldn’t reason out what it was. She was probably examining things with the long trek they were about to take in mind, she thought.
She and Manak-na went to check the backpacks that were ready at the entryway one more time, and then they would go to sleep. When they reached Aryna’s backpack, Domur went to her friend and suggested she might need her season-of-cold-days boots. Aryna was horrified that she’d forgotten. She immediately got them and put them in the backpack.
Ahna went to Ki’ti and sat with her for a little while.
“Mother, you are not well,” she said quietly.
“Shhh, Little Girl, I’m fine.”
“Mother, don’t pretend with me. I know. You have little air and your cough is not good. You keep pretending it’s better, but it’s worse.”
“Ahna, you must remain silent about this. I do not want to trouble anyone. I will talk to Likichi about it. As long as I have no physical stress, I am fine. I promise.”
“Do you also promise to talk to Likichi when Wisdom returns color to the land?”
“You have my word, Ahna.” Ki’ti looked at the girl. There was no way to get past her scrutiny. Wisdom spoke to Ahna. Ahna would be a Wise One who would lead the People well, Ki’ti reasoned. She was so fit for the responsibility already. It was good. She was a person who asked so little, but then that was how she’d been raised. And Cam-na was good for her. He was to her what Untuk-na was to Ki’ti. It was a wonderful match.
Ahna left to return to Cam-na. She’d told him only that she was aware that Ki’ti was not well. She was worried. At least she’d gotten Ki’ti to agree to talk to Likichi when Wisdom returned color to the land.
The home cave bustled with activity as the seven readied themselves for the trek. Ki’ti met them at the entryway and put her hands on the shoulders of all seven, one by one. She said to each, “Go with Wisdom.” Each was touched. It was special each time their Wise One did it.
They left for the trek before the morning meal. Wisdom had just returned color to the land. Fiery rays made lines on the morning sky. It was a lovely day as they entered the season of new leaves. Komus led, and the People paired from time to time with one and another to follow. The pace was vigorous, but each was able to take the speed. Manak-na, Tongip-na, and Kai-na had been generous in the extra weight they’d taken on. The women would be able to take on more weight gradually as they strengthened. Aryna was likely the least able to carry very heavy weights. She was slender and Minguat. But then, Tongip-na was her husband and he could more than make up for what she couldn’t carry, since he was the largest of all the trekkers.
Back in the home cave, Ki’ti and Untuk-na ate while she told him that she’d talk to Likichi about the breathing problems. Untuk-na had been trying to get her to do that for quite a while. He wondered what caused her to do it this morning, but he didn’t ask. He was just glad she would finally address the issue.
When they finished the meal, Ki’ti went to the back of the cave where Likichi was busy with the herbs.
“May I have some of your time?” Ki’ti asked.
“Of course, Wise One, what can I do?” Likichi carefully laid down a handful of herbs and seated herself on skins, gesturing to Ki’ti to be seated.
Ki’ti sat and Ti’ti crept into the lap of her tunic. “I have not been improving, Likichi. My breathing is tighter, that’s all. Do you have some of the leaves Totamu used to help her breathe?”
“Oh, I missed that altogether. You should not pretend to be better when you’re not, my Dear.”
“I just don’t want to worry anyone. I ca
n do what I must as long as I don’t have to walk up and down the hills. Trekking is impossible for me any longer.” That was quite an admission for Ki’ti, and Likichi was well aware of the significance.
“Let me listen to your lungs,” the old woman said crawling over to Ki’ti.
Likichi put her ear against Ki’ti’s chest and back. She didn’t like what she heard. Ki’ti could not see her alarmed frown.
“You’re wheezing. I’ll get the leaves and you can add them to the pouch you already have around your neck. I also want you to drink a lot of water. Keep sipping it all day and evening. You’ve got to thin out what is in your chest so you can cough it up.”
“How often do I use the leaves?”
“What I’ve added to your pouch, use whenever your breathing feels tight. I’ll bring you gourds of hot water with the vasaka leaves steeped in it. When I bring that to you, I want you to drink it hot—and all of it. Off and on I’ll bring some steeped chaga for you to drink. You need to drink it hot—and all of it. Promise me you will do as I ask.”
“I promise, Likichi. What is this?” Ki’ti pointed to her chest.
“You probably acquired a problem from the ashfall when you were little. You were closer to the ground than most of us. You probably breathed a lot more of it than taller People, and it didn’t get removed from your lungs. You know what lungs look like. You’ve probably got ash lodged in your lungs, where it has caused it to be hard for you to breathe. It’s worse in the lower part of your lungs. So you have the upper parts that are still working. What you don’t want is to let what’s down there get so thick you can’t cough it up. That’s why I want you to drink lots of water. And you must not get overtired like you did. Having to lie on sleeping skins for days on end is not good. You need to be up and moving to get rid of what you can, but not moving to the extent that you get winded. Do you understand?”
“I understand well. Will this cause my death soon?” Ki’ti knew she needed to know what she could, but she wasn’t at all sure she was ready for an answer. Ti’ti got up and headed towards the entryway.
Manak-na's Story, 75,000 BC Page 36