by Jo Sandhu
Roba stepped forward and took one of the bowls. He dipped the end of a hollow water reed into the coloured pigment. Iva placed his hand on the rock wall, with great reverence, and spoke.
‘Bison, who gave up mighty spirit for Worj’s Clan. We thank you.’
‘We thank you,’ the clan murmured.
Roba drew a breath, drawing the pigment into the reed, then blew over Iva’s outstretched hand, covering it in black. When Iva removed his hand and stepped back, a perfect outline of his hand remained. He drew his stained hand across his forehead, leaving the mark of the hunter on his skin. Then Roba gave the reed to Iva, and he, too, placed his hand against the rock and made his mark.
One after the other, the hunters came forward, adding their hands to the wall and thanking Spirit of Rock for keeping them safe. Vana was the first of the women hunters. Druba took the tube and drew up the red ochre, sacred to the women who not only took the life of the bison, but could bring forth new life themselves. Vana, Druba and Aba added their marks.
Then only Worj was left.
‘Many hands. Many hunters. All clan,’ he said. ‘Worj’s Clan, and before, and before.’ He motioned Tarin and Luuka to place their hands against the rock. ‘Yarin and Luuja also hunters of Worj’s Clan. One day, maybe go. But always be clan . . . here . . .’ Worj beat his chest. ‘Now, make mark.’
Tarin swallowed. How many generations had placed their marks here? he wondered. How many hunters had come to this sacred place to give thanks for their deliverance and a successful hunt? He felt the weight of the honour Worj was giving to them.
‘There is an old Mammutti saying,’ he said, and he glanced at Luuka to translate for him. He wanted Worj to understand how he felt. ‘When we hunt together, you become my brother.’ He stepped forward and closed his eyes. His fingers touched the wall. The weight and age of the stone pierced his heart. So ancient. So strong. This was the strength of the clan he was feeling, the strength that flowed through the generations, one after the other, from birth to death and all that came in between. He felt Spirit of Rock move, infinitely slowly, as the mountains moved. It drew him and Luuka and Kaija close, welcoming their strength and their spirits, and in turn, strengthening and enriching their own small Clan of Wolves.
‘Clan brothers,’ Worj said. He held his hand out for the reed, but Roba hesitated and his hands clenched. Worj growled, and slowly Roba handed him the reed. Worj drew a breath of black pigment and sprayed it across Tarin’s hand. It felt cold. Tarin removed his hand and wiped the black across his forehead, as he had seen the other hunters do.
Then he stepped back and Luuka did the same.
Worj thumped both boys on the back. ‘Hunters,’ he said, and passed the reed to Iva to complete the circle. As leader of the clan, he was the last to place his mark.
Tarin looked at the outline of his hand on the wall. It made him feel warm inside. That was his mark, he thought. In the years to come, others would come to this cave and marvel at the wondrous paintings. And they would look at the handprints of all the brave hunters, and know that he was one of them.
But even as he stared proudly at his mark, Roba cried out and rushed forward. He rubbed his hand across Tarin and Luuka’s marks, smearing the pigment.
He understood what Roba meant. They were not welcome.
Roba’s outburst had cast a gloom across the clan. They sat in small huddled groups, whispering and talking. Luuka had taken Kaija’s hand and drew her and Tarin to one side as Worj, Ruva and Roba argued together. Worj’s voice was low, but Ruva waved her arms and pushed Roba, who grew louder and angrier.
‘He’s scared,’ Luuka said, his own voice low.
‘Of what?’ Kaija snapped. ‘Does he fear we’ll eat too much? You and Tarin helped with the hunt too.’
‘He’s scared of Winter and no food. All people are scared of the Long Dark,’ Luuka said.
Tarin shivered. It was fear that drove people to hate. It was fear that made the hunters of Mammoth Clan glare at him in anger and wish to cast him out. Fear had followed him all the way across the mammoth plains and down the river to the forests, and it was waiting for him here, just when he thought they had found refuge. If they had to leave Worj’s Clan, then they were in grave danger. Fear settled in his heart like a lump of ice.
‘He was angry with us on the hunt,’ Luuka said. ‘I saw him and Worj argue, but I didn’t realise it was over us. Some people are scared of those who are different. Kaija and I saw that all the time at River Clan.’
Tarin bit his lip. He had also seen that fear on people’s faces. Every time they looked at him and his twisted leg.
‘He has no need to fear us.’ Tarin pushed himself to his feet. ‘We will tell them we will go.’
‘Go? But where?’ Kaija gripped his arm. ‘Winter is here. We have no food supplies, no shelter.’
‘We have no choice,’ Tarin said. ‘We can’t stay if we’re not welcome.’
Luuka nodded. ‘Tarin is right. We cannot cause trouble for this clan.’
‘Yorv is also arguing.’ Kaija nodded toward the angry group. Yorv pointed toward them and shouted angrily.
‘He’s saying he’ll leave with us if we have to go.’ Luuka sounded bleak. Then Worj shouted loudly and a sudden silence fell.
Luuka stepped toward them.
‘No go.’ Worj glared at him. ‘No one go. All clan.’ He gripped Roba’s shoulder and shook him gently. ‘Roba clan. Roba stay. Luuja clan. Luuja stay.’
Roba drew in a deep breath and bowed his head.
‘All clan,’ said Ruva and she clapped her hands. ‘Now see.’ She stood in the centre of the cave near the cave bear skull and raised her hands in the air. She frowned in concentration, enunciating her words carefully and clearly. ‘Worj’s Clan welcomes Yarin Owl Spirit. Worj’s Clan welcomes Luuja Horse Spirit. And Worj’s Clan welcomes Yaiya Horse Spirit.’ She stopped and took a deep relieved breath. Then she frowned. ‘Stupid children, come.’
Tarin, Luuka and Kaija stood awkwardly in front of the old woman as she took a bowl of red ochre in her hands. Muttering in her own words, she smeared the red ochre on each of their foreheads and down their cheeks. Tarin staggered as she pushed the paste into his hair. The yellow clay she rubbed down their arms and legs.
‘You Worj’s Clan. One day, you go. But always home here. You always clan.’
Tarin didn’t know what to say. He felt such a surge of gratitude and love for the people clambering around him, patting him on the back and welcoming him. They could stay here for the Winter. They wouldn’t have to find another shelter after all. But still his gaze returned to the wall, where his handprint was now only a smear of black. Of Roba there was no sign.
‘One more ceremony.’ Worj lifted his voice to be heard. The clan quietened, and all faces turned to their leader. ‘You, boy. Come here.’
Tarin moved forward. He wondered what could happen to him next. Ruva pulled his tunic over his head roughly, exposing his chest and arms. The cavern was cold and Tarin trembled. Then he saw Kaija move forward and pass a bowl of black paste to Ruva.
‘Today, this boy hunter,’ said Worj. ‘This boy man of Worj’s Clan, and man of Mammoth Clan. Yaiya tell Worj, must make mark.’
Tarin lifted his chin as Worj held a flint blade high. He looked Tarin in the eye, then brought the blade down in two quick strikes – two curved lines meeting in a point. Tarin felt the blade slice through his skin, and the warm trickle of blood down his arm mixed with the yellow clay.
Ruva took a handful of the paste and slapped it onto his wound, rubbing it in to make the ta
ttoo. It stung, but Tarin didn’t flinch. He had waited a long time to receive his manhood tattoo. As Ruva stepped back, he squinted down at his arm and felt a warm glow all over. The marks were deep and dark, and would form a strong tattoo once healed.
Tarin stood tall, his heart bursting with pride. A part of him wished his family had been present to see him receive his tattoo. Old Father would have called on the Spirits to bless him and keep him safe. Kalle would have worn his big head piece with the bison horns, and his mother would have told him how proud she was. Tarin’s eyes stung, and he blinked the tears away fiercely. A wet nose butted his hand and a warm tongue licked his fingers. Rohk had pushed his way through the crowd. The wolf pup yawned and scratched his ear. Tarin bent down and picked him up, burying his face deep into the wolf’s fur.
But I am with family, he thought. This is my family, my clan. One day, I’ll return to Aila and Kalle. But for now, this is where I belong. I’m not sure why the Earth Mother led me here, but I’m glad she did.
‘I need help with this fur.’ Kaija stood in front of Tarin and Luuka and waved the bison fur at them. Then she noticed Rohk licking the scabs on Luuka’s arm. ‘What is he doing?’
Luuka looked up at his sister and grinned. ‘He’s licking my arm.’
‘Why?’ Kaija frowned at him.
‘I’m not sure.’ Luuka gently pulled his arm away. ‘Maybe he’s saying sorry his mother attacked me, or maybe he thinks he’s healing me.’
‘I think your arm does look better,’ said Tarin. The three of them studied the healing wounds on Luuka’s arm. ‘You should let Rohk lick your shoulder, Kaija.’ He glanced up and surprised a worried expression on her face. ‘He still has his baby teeth. He won’t eat you.’
‘I’m not too sure.’ Kaija looked at Rohk’s sharp, white teeth. ‘See? He’s drooling!’
‘That’s because Novi’s making him lemming stew for his dinner,’ said Luuka. ‘Go on, Rohk. Go and find your sister.’
‘Help me pin this fur out,’ Kaija said. She passed the boys a handful of sharp bone pegs and flipped the hide so the fur faced down. Luuka and Tarin hammered the pegs around the edge, stretching it taut. Then Kaija picked up a dull-edged stone and pulled it across the hide, scraping off the remaining flesh and fat.
‘Are you making this into leather or fur?’ Tarin asked.
‘Fur, I think,’ said Kaija, breathing hard with the effort. ‘It’s so nice and thick, and we each need something warmer to wear. Our boots need replacing. We’ve borrowed so much . . . sleeping furs and such.’ She paused, out of breath, and rubbed her muscles.
Tarin took a turn with the scraper and Kaija sat back on her heels and watched him. ‘We really need to make some of our own tools, too,’ she continued. ‘We could trade for some flint, but we don’t have anything to trade except the bison skin. I could make some baskets, but I’d need some bulrush stalks or some bear grass, or even willow to split . . . and I’m not really very good at baskets. You missed a spot.’
Tarin scowled at her and brushed his hair back with his sleeve. It was hot work. Kaija hugged her knees and rested her chin on them. ‘Next time there’s a hunt, I want to go, too.’
‘There’s no chance of a hunt during this blizzard,’ said Luuka, taking his turn at the scraping. ‘How long has it been now? Three days?’
‘Four,’ said Tarin glumly. He looked toward the cave’s entrance, but all he could see over the top of the huge aurochs hide windbreak was a blur of white. Even with the windbreak, cold gusts still found their way into the cave and he shivered. A nice thick bison fur wrap would be good.
He wondered what his family at home were doing. Kaamos was the time of year for storytelling; for sitting around the fire and playing games; for sewing clothes and carving beads of ivory and bone. He liked the idea of the cave paintings, but in his earth-lodges there was nowhere to paint. Maybe on a piece of leather, he thought. Or maybe on the bones themselves. He had once seen a mammoth skull drum marked with red ochre zigzags. It belonged to the Spirit Keeper of White Fox Clan.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Tarin said. ‘About Boar Clan.’
Luuka’s hands stilled. ‘Why?’ His voice was sharp. He passed the scraper back to Kaija and frowned.
‘About the spear throwers,’ Tarin explained. ‘If we could work out how they made them, we could make some for ourselves. And some for Worj’s hunters. Luuka, you saw how they hunted!’ Tarin leaned forward, waving his hands as he spoke. ‘Yorv told me ours has been the first hunt in a long time that no one got injured. Kaija, you should see them run those bison into the ground. They get so close to them! And often they even jump on them before the animal’s winded. Yorv says the younger hunters like to show how brave they are, doing that.’
‘Brave? Or stupid,’ Kaija snorted.
‘Their spears are only wood,’ Tarin continued, his eyes glowing. ‘They don’t use flint or bone tips. Just wood. And yet they bring down bison and aurochs.’
Kaija finished scraping and looked at Tarin. ‘With the spear throwers, imagine how much easier the hunting would be. And safer.’
‘And safer,’ Tarin agreed. ‘We owe Worj and his clan so much and it could be a way to repay them.’ He paused. ‘Has Roba spoken to anyone?’
Kaija shook her head. ‘Uva told me – he wasn’t always Worj’s Clan. There was a cave-in, and many of his own clan died. The rest couldn’t survive by themselves. He and his hearth-mate were starving when Worj found them. His children had already died, and then his hearth-mate did too. That is why he is worried more mouths will make for a hard season.’
‘He’s right.’ Tarin took the scraper for another turn, but his hands slowed and his gaze was far away. ‘We have nothing to give him. We have nothing but our knowledge.’
‘Mmmm.’ Kaija nodded decisively. ‘You two got a good look at those spear throwers, so see what you can come up with. I’m going to get some bear fat from Ruva to rub into this hide.’ She jumped to her feet and disappeared.
Tarin looked at Luuka. ‘You don’t think it’s a good idea.’
Luuka shrugged. ‘It’s a good idea. Safer hunting is always a good idea.’ He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘It’s just . . .’
Tarin waited. A look of pain crossed Luuka’s face.
‘I thought I was going to die . . . there in that spirit hole.’ He spoke quietly.
‘I did, too,’ said Tarin.
‘I don’t know if it makes sense.’ Luuka glanced up at Tarin. ‘But now that I’m here, and I’m safe . . . and we’re all safe . . . I don’t want to remember anything about Boar Clan.’
Tarin looked over to where the wolf pups were romping with the children, Mohv, Eeli and Zuuv. They grabbed handfuls of grey fur and shrieked in laughter. Rohk and Nilkka bounded around them, licking their faces and wrestling. Softly he spoke. ‘Boar Clan is like a nightmare to me, too. When I close my eyes, I can still smell Hela, and I can still hear her coming after us.’ He closed his eyes for a moment and shivered. ‘But I want to take something good out of it. With those spear throwers, we can help repay Worj and his clan. And we can use them ourselves to hunt. I would like to see what the Mammutti can do with them also. Too many people die from hunting. Too many good people.’
Luuka was silent, staring down at the cave floor for a long time. Then he nodded. ‘You’re right. Of course I’ll help.’ He squatted down and scratched a rough drawing in the dirt. ‘They were about this long.’
The boys leant over the drawing, adding more details.
‘A groove down the middle.’
‘Do you think –’ Tarin paused and chewed his lip. Wood wasn’t plentiful around Mammoth Clan and the northern clans. But bones were – especially mammoth bones. ‘Do you think bone would work as well as wood?’
‘I don’t see why not,’ Luuka said with a shrug. ‘But would bone be long enough?’
‘Maybe. A leg bone from a mammoth. Or maybe we could make a smaller thrower from bone and use it to hunt smaller animals
, like hamsters or jerboas.’ Tarin studied the picture that was taking shape. He could do this, he thought. He could make a spear thrower. He would ask Yorv or Narn for some wood. They did owe everyone here so much. Not only for taking them in and clothing and feeding them, but for their friendship. Not many clans would welcome strangers so easily. Especially not at the start of Winter, when stored food would have to last the whole season. It was no surprise that Roba was so fearful.
Tarin bent towards the drawing again. He hoped the spear throwers would help to repay them.
‘If I rub the fat into the hide really well, it stops it going hard,’ Kaija explained to Ruva.
Ruva shook her head. ‘Brains better. Mash brains, rub hard. Use bone. Push . . . push . . . hard into hide.’
‘Before I hang the hide over the fire?’
‘Ah!’ The old woman smiled widely and nodded. She poured liquid into a bone cup and handed it to Kaija. ‘Drink.’
‘What is this?’ Kaija sniffed the liquid. She looked at Ruva’s twinkling eyes and chuckled. ‘You want me to guess?’ She closed her eyes and concentrated on the tea. ‘Hmm . . . mint . . . and clover – white clover. And dandelion. And something sweet. Strawberry! Am I right?’
Kaija opened her eyes and laughed at the delighted look on Ruva’s face.
‘Yaiya very good.’
‘I’m afraid I cheated.’ Kaija pointed to the small birch bark containers lying open near the fire. ‘I saw those herbs and the dried strawberries. I guessed that’s what you put in the tea. But I could definitely taste the mint and strawberry.’
‘Hmph!’ Ruva smacked her gently on the leg. ‘Ruva have many medicines. Check if need more. Send Yaiya to find when blizzard over.’
‘I’d like to help,’ said Kaija eagerly.
Ruva picked up one of the containers and gave it to Kaija to smell.
‘Coltsfoot,’ said Kaija. ‘But you won’t find coltsfoot yet. There’s too much snow.’
Next, Ruva passed her some small, whitish berries.