by Jo Sandhu
They squatted next to Ruva’s fire and the old woman produced an ancient rabbit-skin bag. She took a small pouch and unwrapped it. ‘Smell.’ She pushed it towards Kaija’s nose.
Kaija sniffed carefully.
‘Wormwood!’ It was easy to recognise the distinctive smell.
Ruva smiled and nodded. ‘All plant, leaf, flower . . .’
‘Into the bone broth?’ Kaija leaned forward, fascinated by the old woman’s knowledge of herbal lore as well as the chance to finally solve the mystery of her clan’s illness. Ruva passed her another packet. Kaija sniffed again. It smelled of old earth and decaying leaves. She sneezed.
‘I don’t know this one.’ Panic rose. How could she identify it? She sniffed again . . . it smelled of something long dead.
‘Under dead wood,’ Ruva said. ‘Under cliff. Very dark. Like hair but mushroom. Black. Very smell.’
‘Very smell’ was right, Kaija thought. If the dried mushroom smelled this bad, she could only imagine what the fresh was like. Then another memory returned to her – travelling with her mother, passing by a fallen oak, and in the dimness of the twilit forest, her mother gleefully digging in the decaying humus and stowing the spindly, delicate black fungus away quickly before any light could spoil it.
But why didn’t she use it? Kaija shook her head. Ruva was watching her.
‘Fun-gi,’ the old woman said carefully. ‘Yaiya have.’
‘I can’t take this,’ Kaija said. ‘It is Ruva’s.’
‘Ruva give to Yaiya. Maybe Yaiya need. One day be medicine woman like Ruva.’ She placed the packet in Kaija’s hand and folded her fingers around it.
Kaija sighed and smiled.
Kaija was quickly realising that having a couple of naughty pups in the cave was a lot of work. She had decided to do some repairs to her tunic as the stitching had broken when Tarin treated her wound, and the spear had left a large hole in the shoulder.
‘I must make some Winter clothes, too,’ she explained to Ruva, who was sorting through her skins and furs and piling them in front of Kaija.
‘Reindeer fur good,’ said Ruva. ‘Keep warm and dry. Bear skin on feet good.’
‘And the wolverine that Luuka killed will make a good hood.’ Kaija ran her fingers through the thick fur. With her pile of skins, a sharp stone awl and lengths of sinew, she settled cross-legged by the fire. The children were napping, and she hoped to spend a quiet couple of hours working without a curious child climbing over her to touch her pale hair or poke her eyes. But she hadn’t reckoned on Rohk and Nilkka.
She had just made a few fresh cuts in her tunic with the awl, and was preparing to thread the sinew through and tie it, when Nilkka jumped on top of her. The stone awl poked her finger, drawing blood.
‘Nilkka, you naughty girl. I’ve lost enough of my blood already, thank you.’ Kaija scolded her and the pup whimpered and sat at her feet, until her attention was distracted by a gust of wind and she went to investigate.
But the mood was lost. Kaija pushed aside her sewing, no longer interested. She wondered how much longer the hunters would be. Perhaps they’d have to camp out on the steppes, especially if they couldn’t find the bison. She hoped they would be warm enough. All three visitors were wearing furs borrowed from Worj’s Clan, but they’d need their own furs before full Winter came.
Beera was weaving watertight baskets from a pile of reeds and trying to teach Eeli how to split and sort the reeds. Kaija wandered over to them. She sat and watched their clever fingers as the baskets took shape, but wasn’t inclined to try for herself.
She decided to walk up to the top of the ridge and keep a watch for the hunters. A tramp up the hill would be good for the pups, too. They were getting fed too many treats by the adoring clan and their tummies were round with rabbit stew, roasted beaver and deer bones.
‘Rohk! Nilkka!’ Kaija called, whistling through her teeth to them. The two pups came bounding toward her, nearly flying through the air. She laughed to see them running – ears flapping and tongues hanging out. Rohk was bigger and faster than his sister, and he jumped on her back, wrestling her to the ground. But Nilkka didn’t take such treatment lightly. She snarled at her brother and fought back. The two of them tumbled together in the snow.
‘Hurry up, you slow pups.’ Kaija threw a ball of snow at them, then started running up the slope. The pups yelped and tore after her.
Kaija was breathless by the time she reached the top of the hill, and was glad to sit on a rock and look out over the forest. Her breath steamed the air around her, and she wriggled her fingers in the soft rabbit fur mittens Uva had given her. The pups had found a deep snow drift and were taking turns pouncing on it. Kaija swooped and picked Rohk up, tickling his warm tummy. He growled at her and tried to bite her fingers.
‘You have such sharp teeth, brave little hunter.’ She let Rohk run and bent to scratch Nilkka behind the ears. The pup sighed in ecstasy and rolled over onto her back, exposing a soft tummy for scratching. Rohk, unable to resist, pounced on his sister, taking her jaw in his and growling playfully.
‘Stop that, Rohk. Ouch!’ Kaija pulled her hand away as she received a sharp nip. ‘You are too naughty, and need to learn how to behave.’ The pup tilted his head, his eyes wide and innocent. Kaija kept her face stern and waved her finger at him. ‘You will not bite my fingers. Rohk! Pay attention. You, too, Nilkka. You will sit there and be good. Sit!’ Kaija raised her voice as Rohk bunched his muscles and prepared to jump. ‘Sit, and I’ll give you a treat.’ She broke off a piece of dried reindeer and showed the pups. They both sat on their haunches and looked at her hopefully.
‘Very good.’ Kaija beamed at her charges and gave them each a small piece of the meat. ‘I can see you are smart. Now, stay there, while I walk away. No! Nilkka, stay. Stay there. Rohk! No!’
Nilkka jumped on her brother while she had the chance and knocked him down. Kaija threw her hands up.
‘I guess that was asking too much, wasn’t it? You’re only babies. You shouldn’t even have left your den yet. Poor pups.’
Kaija rested her head in hands and considered the pups. Most wolf pups were born in late Spring or early Summer, according to Luuka. He guessed these pups were born later than that, maybe in early Autumn. Normally, they should only now be leaving their den and meeting the other wolves of their pack. It was a gradual process, introducing the young wolves, who had been born blind and helpless and stayed safe and hidden in the dens for the first twelve weeks of their life. But their mother had been a lone wolf. She had the same dark band around her ankle as her daughter, and Luuka thought she may have been forced out of her pack for being ‘different’.
‘Like Luuka and me,’ Kaija murmured. ‘And Tarin, too. We are all different.’
Nilkka yelped and tried to howl, a funny, high-pitched mew that made Kaija smile. She clasped Nilkka’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes.
‘I wonder if your eyes will stay blue, my brave girl? Luuka says your eyes should turn orange soon. Either way, you’ll always be a beauty.’
Kaija watched them play in the snow until a movement below drew her attention. She strained her eyes to see. Dark figures were moving through the forest.
The hunters!
‘Come, pups,’ she cried, as she ran down the hill toward the cave. ‘Let’s tell the others.’
But they already knew. Lorv had taken Zuuv, Iva’s son, to meet the hunters on their return. Kaija and the pups came running down the hill, just as an excited Zuuv burst into the cave with the announcement of a successful hunt and ‘the biggest bison you’ve ever seen!’
‘Good news, Yaiya!’ Novi hurried toward her, her eyes glowing. ‘No one hurt.’
Kaija’s heart leapt. She hadn’t realised she had been worried about Luuka and Tarin, and of course the other hunters. But wi
th Novi’s words, she realised why she had felt so restless.
She hurried with the others down through the forest path to meet them. Zuuv and Mohv, the two eldest children, ran back and forth, urging the clan on faster.
Rohk and Nilkka caught the excitement and ran around in circles, yipping, as though savage bees were stinging them.
‘Hei O!’ The call came through the trees, and then the hunters appeared. They were bloody and sweating, but their faces shone with joy.
Kaija laughed aloud to see them safe, and ran forward. Luuka scooped Rohk up and ruffled his fur. Nilkka yelped and jumped up at Tarin until he picked her up. She set her paws one on each shoulder and licked his face.
‘You’re safe! You’re safe!’ Kaija gasped, hugging both boys to her. Rohk and Nilkka squirmed in annoyance.
‘Of course we are.’ Luuka set Rohk down. ‘And we have some exciting stories to tell.’
He looked sideways at Tarin, a huge smile on his face. Something unexpected had happened, she could guess that much. She studied Tarin as he watched the pups leap through the snow. He looked tired, but happy. His head was up, his shoulders back. He stood firm on both legs. He looked taller and stronger, as though he no longer carried a great weight.
‘You helped with the kill!’ Kaija gasped.
Tarin met her eyes shyly and nodded.
‘Yarin save Narn life.’ Yorv slapped Tarin on the back and Tarin staggered. ‘And Luuja help, too.’
‘Hah!’ Ruva hobbled over and pushed the boys ahead of her. ‘Work now. Stories later.’
Luuka turned to argue, but Ruva was carrying the sharp stick she used for digging, and she jabbed it into the boys’ backs.
‘Ruva,’ Kaija called. The old woman stopped and tilted her head. She looked to Kaija like an old, wrinkled bird. ‘Does your clan have some hunting ceremony to honour the hunters?’
‘Tonight,’ said Ruva, smiling. ‘But first . . .’
‘I know. First work,’ said Kaija. She followed the boys, eager to help with the butchering, but her eyes were thoughtful.
The sun was already dipping toward the mountains when the hunters returned to the cave, and there was still a lot of work to do before the long twilight deepened to night. The hunting was only one small part of the clan’s survival. Butchering the beast was dirty, bloody work and every member of the clan was involved, even the children.
The bison had already been stripped of its hide and cut into sections down on the plains. This way, the hunters could share the load of carrying such a large carcass. Some pieces had been loaded into packs and strapped onto strong, broad backs. Other sections had been piled onto the sledges to be pulled back to the cave.
Now, back at the cave, tendons were stripped from the legs, ready to be separated into strands of sinew; tongue, heart, liver and brains were set aside; the hoofs would be boiled down into a thick glue; intestines, stomach and bladder washed out to be used for storage flasks; and long lengths of hair twisted to form ropes. There was no part of the animal that wasn’t used.
Some of the meat was cut into thin strips and hung over drying racks. Tarin helped light the many smoky fires surrounding the drying meat. Over the next few days, it would be the job of the children to keep the fires burning. Other joints were packed in snow to freeze, and one large rump roast was placed on a spit over glowing coals.
The horns were useful in many ways. The solid ends would be used as levers and daggers. The hollow ends used as funnels to fill the water flasks. The bones wouldn’t go to waste, either. They would be used as platters, scrapers and diggers. Rohk and Nilkka claimed a large bone each and the whole cave laughed to see the tiny pups dragging bones bigger than themselves to a small niche at the back of the cave.
It was nearly dark by the time they had finished and everyone was sweating and covered in blood. Tarin was embarrassed but pleased when Worj gave him one of the rolled-up pieces of hide.
‘For Yarin and Luuja. Make Winter fur. No freeze.’
Tarin wrapped his arms around the thick roll and stammered his thanks. Each of the hunters had received a special piece of the bison for their own use, but the hide Worj had given to him and Luuka was large enough to make all three of them strong boots or warm leggings. Tarin was determined that Kaija should have the first new boots.
‘Now wash,’ said Ruva, pushing Tarin and Luuka toward the frozen stream.
‘But . . . the water’s so cold,’ Luuka stammered.
Kaija laughed and passed them a small woven basket containing crushed soapwort. ‘The women have nice warmed water inside the cave. But you big brave hunters aren’t scared of a little ice, are you?’
Tarin and Luuka grumbled, but followed the men to the stream.
‘If I was home I’d be having a sweat bath now,’ said Tarin, watching Worj and Yorv break the ice sheets on top of the water. ‘The coals would have been heating all morning, branches of pine and birch would line the floor . . .’ He sighed, then looked down at the grime covering him. ‘But I suppose I’ll just have to make do with icy water instead.’
‘Come on,’ said Luuka. ‘I’ll race you.’
The roast bison was eaten around crackling fires and the story of the hunt told many times over. The tale of Narn’s rescue had become a dance, with Mohv playing the bison while Zuuv dived in front of the charging beast.
Wrapped in a clean fur, Tarin sat back against a rock and watched their dance. Narn joined him.
‘See,’ Narn said, and pointed to Lorv and Ruva, who were mixing bear fat with different coloured pigments. Tarin recognised red ochre, charcoal black and yellow clay. Each colour was mixed in a bowl made from birch bark. ‘Special for the hunt.’ Narn’s eyes glowed in the firelight.
‘What do you mean?’ Tarin asked, but the clan were already getting to their feet and, with flaming torches held high, they followed the elders along a narrow cavity at the back of the cave.
‘I didn’t know this was here,’ Tarin whispered to Kaija. He wasn’t sure why he was whispering. Away from the main cavern and the hearth fires, the temperature fell. Tarin shivered and glanced up anxiously as the passageway narrowed and the ceiling dropped low. He reached his hands out to steady himself and the rock felt cool to touch. He turned to look at Kaija as she hesitated.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘No.’ She pushed him forward, then hesitated. ‘For a moment, it reminded me of the inner caves of River Clan.’ She shook her head, dispelling the memories. ‘They were forbidden to us.’
The ground sloped downwards, and now it was Tarin who hesitated. He remembered the cave of his dream. The cold rock closing over him, the smell of deep earth, the darkness so complete it swallowed all light. But this is not that cave, he told himself sternly. Ahead, the flickering torches danced like fire spirits, leading the clan safely into the depths of the earth.
‘Go on.’ Kaija pushed him again, and he scrambled downwards over boulders as tall as a man, further into the darkness. He followed the dancing lights, the sound of feet thudding against rocks, and the soft murmurs of the clan. The Spirits walked with them here. This was a sacred place.
The passageway opened out into a large, almost circular cavern. Uva and Nord touched their torches to small stone lamps placed around the cavern. A hollow had been carved out of each stone, and these were filled with fat and a wick of dried moss. They then placed the torches in cavities within the rock walls, and the light spread wide and upwards. Tarin stared, marvelling at the overhanging rocks that looked like giant waves frozen forever.
And the walls! The walls were covered in handprints, big and small, as well as groups of dots he recognised as the star shapes in the night sky. Some of the paintings were very old, and had almost faded into the rocks. Other handprints stood out vividly, red, yellow and black.
‘Amazing,’ Luuka whispered. His fingers trailed across the shapes. ‘Yorv! Did your clan m
ake these pictures?’
Yorv shook his head. ‘Not all. Many here long, long time. Before Worj’s Clan.’
‘I’ve seen paintings like this in one of the River Clan caves,’ Luuka said. He craned his neck upwards. ‘But I’ve never seen so many.’
Lorv was chanting softly as they moved further into the chamber, and slowly the rest of the clan took up the chant. Tarin didn’t understand the words. Perhaps there were no words, only sounds. But he felt a part of it. He hummed softly, letting the waves of sound wash over him. The unearthly music of the bone flute floated on the air and gradually faded along with the chant. Silence fell. The only sound was the crackle of the torches and a child’s soft murmur.
Then Ruva stepped forward and held a skull aloft. Slowly she turned, presenting the skull to the assembled clan. Tarin stared into the dark, empty eye sockets and another shiver shook his body. He recognised the bones of the great cave bear. Ruva spoke in her own language, breaking the silence, as she placed the skull on a high rock in the middle of the cave.
‘She thanks the cave bear for protecting the hunters,’ Luuka whispered. But Tarin didn’t need the translation. Even though he didn’t understand Ruva’s words, the meaning spoke to him in his heart. It was the first time he had heard one of the Esi invoke an animal spirit. Spirit of Cave Bear was an ancient spirit, like Rock and Ice, and mightiest of the animal hunters. Cave Bear was here, before any man or Esi lived in these caves, and his Spirit lived on, in his bones and in the memories passed down from one generation to the next.
Then the torches were extinguished, and all that was left were the small lamps, flickering like stars in the darkness, drawing the clan together in a pool of soft light.