by A. K. Vyas
The graying light of a fresh day gradually filtered into focus. Emil and Papa climbed down the tree at dawn. Papa showed Emil they didn’t need the river for water. Papa found some stumpy grass stalks and tied it around both their ankles. They walked home through the damp early morning forest. The grass collected the morning dew from shrubs and bushes. They were able to drink by wringing the grass stalks over their mouths. Emil thought this was a great trick.
They made it back to the village just as it started to rain that morning, Papa left to fix a knife while Emil cuddled with Cloud in the Gher and told Mama about their night. Mama watched as Emil taught Cloud to stay still or be quiet on command. Then the wolf took a rainy nap.
Mama asked, “Emil, do you know why the people consider wolves to be the wisest animals?”
She took Emil in her lap. “Wolves are fierce hunters—as a team they can hunt anything. A pack is a family. They are tender and play together. Lion or bears will kill strange cubs. Wolves never do this. The pack adopts them. The old wolves teach the pack what they have learned, and are taken care of by the pack just like the cubs.”
Mama went on, “Wolves, just like people, need each other. A lone wolf is very rare and rarely lasts into the tough winter. They know winter survival requires hunting big animals. They can only do this as a team.”
Mama offered, “I can show you a game that hunters like your opa played, called Eagle Eye?”
Emil was excited to play and Mama explained the rules. First, she would pick ten to fifteen items and put them on a hide. Emil was allowed to look at them closely. She then covered them all with another hide. He had to name all of the items. Emil could only remember five items the first game. He whined, “Mama, this is too hard.”
Mama told Emil to reset the game and cover the hide. Lulu named all of the items. Emil was impressed. He knew it would take a lot of practice to play this game as well as Mama.
The best part of the day was the evening fires after all the work was done. Emil was cuddled up with Cloud and asked, “Is a raven the smartest animal?” All of the nearby children inched closer, hoping Lulu would tell one of her famous stories, or teach them a new song.
Mama took a sip of water and began a favorite story.
“There was once a little raven family that lived in a tree. A big old black python lived in a hole nearby. Every time the ravens had new eggs, the snake would climb up and eat them. The ravens couldn’t fight the snake. They asked their friend the monkey for help. The monkey told the Papa raven to fly to the nearest man village and fly off with a flint pouch. ‘Let the men chase you, drop the pouch on the snake`s hole,’ the monkey said. The Papa raven did just this. The men angrily chased him to the hole. The big old python came out hissing and confused by all the noise. The startled men killed the snake. Now the raven eggs would be safe.”
The children cheered. Everyone knew monkeys were wise creatures.
“Who was stronger, the big snake or the little monkey? Who won here?” asked Papa.
Emil replied, “The big snake was stronger, but the monkey was smarter, Papa, so he won!”
Papa added, “Always remember this, Babo, always.”
Emil stated, “I hate snakes, they are bad, they killed Dori.”
Mama added, “No, Emil, snakes aren’t evil, they are animals trying to survive. They can be very dangerous, so we avoid them and kill them if we must.”
Papa agreed, “Mama is right, Babo, they aren’t bad creatures. The way they slither, and their venom just seems more sinister than a lion`s claws, or a bear`s paws.”
Emil giggled. “It rhymes!”
“Lion`s claws
Bear`s Paws
Snake`s jaws
Are we scared?
Naw, Naw, Naw!”
It was a silly little ditty. Somehow, it just caught on. With the kids at first and then Bret. The little hunter added it to his morning hunting ritual. He would belt out this silly rhyme while saluting the sun with outstretched arms. Then he’d take a big gulp of water and float into the woods like a silent wraith. Bret almost always made meat, and rarely had so much as a scratch when he returned. Everyone saw this.
Hunters are a superstitious lot. It seemed to work for Bret. Why not try it? They all needed a good-luck charm or talisman after the bison hunt. One morning Leif followed suit. His team brought a pair of elk that day, with no injury.
They all began singing the rhyme darkly before all hunts. Even Bron.
Chapter Five
“Just because you see the lion’s teeth, don’t assume that the lion is smiling.” -Al Mutanabbi
The Running Boy
Emil was helping Papa make spears when the black crows were still announcing morning. He was playing with a flexible green stalk of wood when it snapped back. This sent a round pebble flying across the village. Cloud immediately raced off to retrieve the pebble for Emil. “Papa, why does it fly so far?” Emil asked.
Papa was very surprised by how far the pebble had flown. He had Emil do it again. The little boy surprised his distracted father by cuddling him. He quickly licked the side of Papa’s face, giggling. “Wolf Kiss…! Wolf Kiss!” Papa chased him down to tickle him in response. The wrestling match was on! Papa would teach him a new wrestling move each time.
Bret approached their Gher humming the silly ditty with a grin. “He wrestles better every time, Spearmaker. It won’t be long before he thrashes you!” the little hunter observed.
Bret had broken his spear. Papa shook hands and returned with a limber light spear. Bret twirled the new spear, asking, “This is well made, but may I have a heavy thrusting spear?”
Papa hesitated. “Yes, Bret, of course. I thought the lighter spear would be better for the game only you can hunt. No one else of the People can run down a gazelle alone. What other hunter has caught enough fish to feed the whole village?”
Bret eyed Papa with a wry, knowing look, then smiled. “Yes, Spearmaker, I’ll keep the light spear.” As Bret left them, Papa motioned Emil close.
“Bret moves like a ghost through the forest. The heavy thrusting spear we use for mammoth or bear is hard for him to use. The others ignorantly tease him. Bret caught enough fish to feed us all, when the heavy rains kept other game away. The People forget.”
Papa added:
“Babo, people only trust someone who tells the truth. Something I wish I’d also learned at your age is this. It’s almost equally as important to tell the truth in the kindest way possible. Always try not to lie, though sometimes there are dark truths and white lies. A young hunter on my team died a horribly painful death, from a school of vipers, crossing a stream during the war. Our hunting team made a pact to tell his family he passed peacefully from a spider bite in his sleep. This is a white lie, but once you get this habit, lying is a slippery slope, Babo.”
Emil observed, “So it’s true Bret isn’t strong enough for a big spear. It’s also true he can do things with a light spear no one else can. No one likes to be teased. So, Papa, you told him the truth, but the nicer truth. I like Bret. He makes all the boys laugh, and he’s so fast.”
Then Emil declared, “Papa, I have to get my egg pouch so I won’t be late!”
Aash smiled, watching Emil run off with Cloud at his heels. There was something to the way the green stalk of wood bent. It had some power within that Papa needed to understand.
The leaves had changed colors. The Autumn Feast was coming. There would be races and contests of strength.
Emil loved to run. He was fast but some of the older boys were faster. He would rarely win the first races. Mama noticed Emil would do better as they ran races. By race ten, Emil was always close to the front.
The boys headed back to the village during the hottest part of the day. Emil said, “Mama, If I could run like Cloud then I’d win the big race.”
Mama suggested, “You run fast, Babo. If you really want to do better, practice running extra between now and the Feast.”
Emil declared, “But Mama, no
boy is as fast as Mats, and Kilan runs so fast too.”
Mama replied, “Yes, those boys are very fast. All people have natural gifts. In a few things like sprinting you are just born fast. Assuming they both practice hard, a naturally slow runner can get much better, but he’ll never beat the dedicated natural sprinter. In most things, however, hard work and practice make all the difference. Anyone can get better at anything if they believe in themselves and put in the hard work and practice.
“Emil, do you know how important running is to the People? Not even Bret, our fastest runner, can hope to catch a gazelle in a sprint. Our hunters will chase them half the day until they can’t run anymore. We hunt as much with our legs as our spears.”
“Wolves like Cloud hunt that way too!” Emil exclaimed. Mama smiled that he remembered.
Back at the village, Papa was carving a notch into the end of the green wood stalk when he saw them. He jumped up to give them both a hug and a kiss.
“Papa, Papa, I ran fast today. Mama said practice and I might win the Feast race!” Emil said.
Papa suggested, “You’ll certainly get better with practice. I want to win the spear throw contest. We can practice together.”
Emil watched Papa balance a heavy hunting spear onto the notch of the green wood stalk. “It’s too big, Papa,” observed Emil.
Papa looked at it again. His boy was right.
The next day Emil and Papa started practicing running and throwing together. Emil was too small for a heavy hunting spear. Papa carved him a very small practice spear and taught him the right throwing technique. Throwing was a key skill for the people. All the children practiced with rocks daily.
Throwing was very hard for Emil the first day and Papa was also a bit out of practice. Emil could not throw very straight or far. His arm got very sore. The boy threw the spear down in frustration, yelling, “I can’t do this!”
Papa commanded, “Emil, pick that up!” in a stern voice. Then he made Emil throw ten more times. The results were the same. Then Papa started laughing.
Emil started to tear up. “Papa, you are laughing at me.”
Papa scooped Emil up, “No, Babo, never. I’m thinking if we were hunting together today, some lucky deer or bison would get to live another day! It’s only your first day throwing. I have no such excuse,” and he laughed some more, until Emil started laughing too.
Papa put Emil down, kneeling until they were eye to eye. “Listen, Babo: whenever something is bad or tough, let’s figure out a way to laugh at it, and then don’t quit.”
Then he asked Emil, “Do you know how many seasons I’ve practiced throwing? This is just your first day. Practice hard and someday, Emil, you will be the best spearman of the People.’
Cloud had retrieved Emil’s last throw and dropped the small spear at Emil’s feet. As it glistened in the green grass, Papa had an idea.
“Let’s head back, Babo,” he said.
The next day Mama and Emil returned early with eggs and berries. Papa was sitting with a scowl on his face and a cut on his forearm. There was a shattered spear shaft at his feet. He was wrapping an herb poultice on the cut. Mama checked the cut and expertly rewrapped the poultice around Papa’s arm.
Papa shrugged.
“Thank you. It’s just a scratch. That shaft was too light for a heavy spear but not flexible enough for a light spear. I knew better. I thought I’d still pound a spear out of it. Then this happened. Learn from my mistake, Emil. We all make mistakes. It’s usually not the first mistake that gets you into big trouble, but the second one. In this case, my first mistake was trying to force this weak shaft into a spear when I knew better. The second mistake would be to ignore this dirty little scratch. The poultice for cuts is needed to avoid sickness in this heat. Avoid the second mistake, Babo.”
Papa motioned them closer to show them something. He’d carved a narrow groove into the notched green wood stalk. Emil’s smaller spear was whittled down further to fit this groove. The little spear or dart was now a snug fit to the new throwing stick.
Papa took the loaded throwing stick and pointed at a mounted hide target. It was over twice as far as a man could throw a heavy spear. “Watch this,” he announced.
Papa took a big step and threw it over his head at the target with a powerful snapping motion. He remained holding the green throwing stick, but the slim dart had hummed out of his hand with great power. It struck the target with great force, nearly shattering it.
Emil and Mama beamed. Papa remarked, “This will help the People hunt and defend ourselves. We can each carry six of these smaller darts. It’s more than double spear range.”
Mama responded, “I have an idea too,” and headed back to the Gher.
Papa told Emil, “Babo, let’s wait and practice a bit more before we tell everyone, OK?”
“Why, Papa?” asked Emil curiously.
Papa replied, “Often with new things or ideas, Babo, it is better to show people than tell them.”
Emil helped Papa carve more smaller throwing darts. It was soon time for the daily tasks.
As they passed the Gher they heard singing inside.
“Mama,” said Emil with a big smile.
Papa looked at Emil and remembered when Emil was a baby. Lulu would sing him to sleep with a sweet lullaby. It always brought peace to his heart. Aash thought there was something truly sacred in a mother’s love. Emil loved singing too. It wasn’t something Papa was good at or did often anymore. He liked hearing Mama and Emil sing together. Emil had Lulu’s rosy spirit. Papa hoped this trait always stayed within Emil.
He picked Emil up and gave him a big kiss. Most men in the village were more reserved with their affection. Papa knew this was silly. Nothing is guaranteed in life. Besides, he thought, someday soon this little cuddle monkey will be a strapping young man. A powerful hunter is likely too embarrassed to be kissed by his little old papa.
Back in their Gher that night Mama had a gift for Papa. She had stitched together a beaded deer hide quiver with a strap. It held six of the new spear darts and could be worn on Papa’s back.
Papa examined the new quiver with great care. Mama had put a great deal of thought into the design. It was lightweight but tough. The flap fit in a way that was secure and allowed for running. He gave her a big hug of thanks and quipped, “If only I was still hunting.”
She replied, “I know you miss it. It’s also good to have you close during the day, and Emil has never been happier.”
After their daily tasks were finished, Papa and Emil consistently practiced for the Autumn Feast. Papa was having a tough practice session. Today he just wasn’t hitting the target.
Emil was giggling darkly. “Papa, well at least we won’t have to build a new target today!” he voiced with a mischievous grin. Then he ducked as Papa tried to grab and tickle him.
Papa smiled, thinking, Babo’s listening and learning. Then he closed his eyes and took in four deep breaths. In his mind’s eye he saw himself focused on the target. He opened his eyes, took a step toward the target and threw with a long smooth motion. The spear dart shattered the target.
Emil was running much faster than before and his throwing improved. On one throw Emil had great focus and hit the target dead center. He yelled, “I did it! Papa, I did it!” while Papa scooped him up.
Papa told Emil:
“You did it once, Emil, you can do it again. If you practice enough you will be able to hit the target every time. This is true of most things, Emil. Do you remember the first day you threw? Do you remember how hard it was? We didn’t quit. We never, never quit, and now today you hit the target like a real hunter. This is called grit.”
Emil beamed. “Papa, do you really think I can be on a hunting team like you?’
Papa announced, “Yes, if you keep running and practicing. You already know how to use the wind and listen to nature. Tracking and hunting are very important skills for a hunter. You actually already do the most important thing.”
“I do?
What’s more important for hunting than running and throwing, Papa?” Emil asked.
Papa suggested:
“Babo, thinking and using your imagination is the most important thing about doing anything. We are not the strongest or fastest animals, Emil. Our minds allow us to survive because we can think. The leader of a hunting team must be able to throw and run well. He doesn’t have to be the best, though. He must, however, know how to imagine, stay calm, and think.”
“How do you practice being calm, Papa?” Emil asked.
“That’s a great question, Babo,” replied Papa.
Emil watched his papa take four very deep breaths with his mouth, holding each breath for a count of four, and then exhaling for a count of four. Then Papa began breathing deeply through his nose. Inhale hold, exhale hold, then repeat, with each motion to a count of four.
After a few minutes, Emil tried this way of breathing and felt very calm, quiet, and focused. “I feel very calm, Papa!” he proclaimed.
“Everyone is different,” Papa stated. “I do this type of breathing before hunts, fighting, or anything important. I even do it at dances.”
“Why dances, Papa?” Emil asked.
“I also did this the first time I danced with your mother,” slyly admitted Papa.
“Why, Papa?” asked Emil. “Mama is so nice.”
“You will see someday, little one,” smiled Papa nostalgically, “now let`s go, hunting lesson!”
They made their way into the forest with the white wolf. Emil was singing a new rhyming song he’d just made up, just like he always did.
“Bears eat Pears
Parrots eat Carrots
Ferrets eat Parrots
So, Ferrets eat Carrots!”
Emil giggled with glee. Papa munched a pear, wondering if ferrets in fact actually ate carrots. Aash knew Bret would adopt the song. The Spearmaker pondered if the hunters would pick up on this new tune as well. They had begun sarcastically singing these child songs while leaving to hunt. You couldn’t argue with the results. They were making meat with no team injuries in many moons. It was fast becoming habit.