Children of the Cave

by Virve Sammalkorpi

  MEIKE ZIERVOGEL

  PEIRENE PRESS

  Greek legends, fables and fairy tales all share an interest in mythical beings. In this book Sammalkorpi imagines what would happen if these creatures really existed. How would we respond? The answer to this question matters hugely. It determines what it means to be human.

  This novel is based on the photo series and synopsis by Pekka Nikrus.

  Preface

  This story is a tribute to a man whose life is little known. He never became a great scientist or explorer. But he did preserve a small collection of images for future generations, thereby making his modest mark on a century of major inventions.

  Iax Agolasky was born in Russia in 1795, the only child of Marushka and Vladimir Agolasky. Vladimir, his father, was a scholar and a polyglot. In addition to his native Russian, Iax learned French from his father. Iax gradually became interested in France, that distant land, seeing its language as his second mother tongue. He emigrated there as a young man.

  In Paris, the young Iax managed to secure a position as an assistant at the Académie des Sciences. At the age of twenty-two, he was asked to act as assistant and interpreter to one Professor Moltique on an expedition to north-west Russia.

  Professor Jean Moltique was a proponent of an early branch of anthropology that researched ancient peoples by means of folklore and legends. He was rumoured to have discovered the footprints of a yeti, possibly even an actual yeti, though none could prove this achievement. The journey undertaken by Professor Moltique and Agolasky lasted from 1819 to 1823, at least. Partly because of defective documentation, partly because of missing notes, no one knows exactly where Agolasky and Moltique travelled.

  A letter written by Moltique to the Académie des Sciences reveals that he and Agolasky discovered a small tribe of forest dwellers in the wilderness. Moltique dubbed the members of this tribe les enfants des ombres, the children of shadows. He had at first taken these forest dwellers to be descendants of the ancient Anatolian people of Paphlagonia, but he changed his mind in the course of the expedition. In the words of the professor, his new theory was ‘audacious and unprecedented’. The letter in which these words appear was filed in the academy’s archives without any associated reports or memoranda. No one knows, therefore, what sentiments or proposals for action it may have prompted among academicians.

  Much of the expedition remains shrouded in mystery. The first and only news reports concerning it date back to 1823, when Professor Moltique and Iax Agolasky returned from their Expedition of All Times, as the press referred to the trip. The fuss soon subsided. Without the surviving pages of Iax Agolasky’s diary, the venture would have been permanently overshadowed by more significant feats performed in a century now famed for its great inventions and innovations. The names Moltique and Agolasky are nevertheless worth remembering. Every discovery needs numerous dreamers and adventurers behind it: to experiment, to err – and to show the way to others who may yet prove wiser and more fortunate.

  It is my hope that I shall see something that nobody has ever before witnessed – and record my tale for future generations. That would mean that I could die happy.

  —IAX AGOLASKY IN HIS LETTER TO PROFESSOR MOLTIQUE APPLYING TO BECOME THE LATTER’S ASSISTANT

  Contents

  Title Page

  Epigraph

  Preface

  Children of the Cave

  Acknowledgements and Postscript

  Author

  Translators

  Copyright

  These are the only entries surviving from the beginning of the diary. They do not throw much light on the initial stages of the expedition, but they indicate that Agolasky and Moltique’s journey to north-west Russia had begun.

  MAY 15TH IN THE YEAR 1819

  – even when I left home. I am grateful to Moltique for selecting me from among the dozens of those who applied, all keen to go on this exciting journey. He was of course known to me, given his association with countless incredible-sounding adventures. There are those who allege that he owes his career to his connections and inheritance, but such claims can be put down to sour grapes. I gather he is also esteemed – though he is known for his coarse conduct, too, as well as for his public criticism of Church doctrine relating to the immortality of the soul.

  My yearning to travel conquers all my prejudices.

  Our journey has commenced, and I cannot get to sleep at night, my agitation is so –

  JUNE – IN THE YEAR 1819

  Mon Dieu, I never thought I would see –

  – were far more impressive than I ever imagined –

  I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

  We may assume that the party travelled more or less directly through Europe to the Russian border. There is nothing to indicate that Moltique harboured any particular enthusiasm for this leg of the journey or that he had any objectives relating to it. He was probably in a hurry to find the descendants of the Paphlagonians. Diary entries resume from the day the camp was set up in north-west Russia; the notes give no more accurate geographical location.

  UNDATED

  – a narrow but torrential river runs through the coniferous forest. The site is ideal for our camp. We erected the tents and our men began to build a simple log cabin, to be used for storing goods and, when it gets colder in late autumn, for shelter. The horses will also need a stable.

  We constructed a small store for provisions to which a ladder grants access, for we do not want uninvited animal guests there, or in any part of the camp. I have seen a wolverine, a fox, deer, elks, hares and assorted wildfowl in the forest nearby, and have resolved to benefit from our assistants’ expertise in the matters of forest fauna and hunting. My father was never drawn to these matters and consequently never acquainted me with the wonders of the woods, preferring to lure me to the books in his library.

  We established a place for a fire in front of the cabin and the tents, and will later build a shelter close by where we may eat in comfort. Our lavatory is just a plank at a fair distance from the camp. I would have wanted it even further away, but, as it seemed our assistants found even the present location hard to reach before dropping their trousers, I agreed to this spot, within shouting distance of the fire but out of sight, behind some rocks.

  Jotted in the margin is a list of the provisions brought along by the expedition party:

  Rice

  Grain

  Wine

  Cognac

  Absinthe

  Cigars

  Smoked, cured and salted meat

  Dried fish, salt fish

  Eggs

  Raisins

  Walnuts, hazelnuts and almonds

  Dried herbs

  Spices

  Onions

  Root vegetables

  Fat

  Beans

  Olives

  Tea

  Sugar

  Salt

  We have set up our camp with care because, if the information Moltique has received is true, we shall be studying the mysterious forest tribe for a long time, perhaps even years. I am excited, believing that we shall find the tribe, even though its existence is as improbable as that of the abominable snowman. Having heard the story of Moltique and the yeti, I asked him about it, but he merely snorted. He considers me young and inexperienced, I realized, resolving not to pry further. Instead, I went to set traps for hares. As long as we have not found the Paphlagonians’ descendants, as we call the forest tribe of the tales, I have nothing to do but jot down our daily activities and the weather conditions. Moltique is most particular about some things, more casual about others, indifferent even. He has his own acerbic sense of humour and is cultured in many ways. I admire his scientific, unsentimen
tal approach even though –

  All the entries for May 1820 have been badly damaged, but the single lines that have been preserved indicate what a turning point the month represented for the expedition. Almost a year has passed since the beginning of the journey.

  MAY 7TH IN THE YEAR 1820

  This is a big day in the history of our expedition –

  There are bones near the cave, along with other signs of life –

  MAY 15TH IN THE YEAR 1820

  It appears that we have discovered the habitat of a new animal species instead of a mysterious forest tribe. There are no signs of a human settlement.

  MAY 22ND IN THE YEAR 1820

  The animals of the cave appear mostly to move on two legs –

  We do not know what animals they are. They appear quite small –

  Moltique is greatly excited. He did not touch his food tonight, though we had not eaten all day, as we were looking for more traces –

  MAY 25TH IN THE YEAR 1820

  It rained in the morning, for all the day was warm. The rainfall ceased after lunch and the sun came out again – The wet ground was covered in prints.

  MAY 28TH IN THE YEAR 1820

  I think I was the first to see it –

  I took it for a wild boar at first, but when the creature stood up I was certain for a moment that I was facing a human being. I had no time to give warning. A shot rang out.

  MAY 30TH IN THE YEAR 1820

  I did not tell Moltique, but the examination of the creature we felled gave me nightmares. The details I had noted down swirled in my mind: I dreamed of a human being with the ears of a cat, the muzzle of a dog, the tail of a pig, the hooves of a cow and the feathers of an owl –

  A couple of longer extracts have fortunately survived from the entries for June 1820 and these give a better picture of the events that took place during the early stages of the expedition.

  JUNE, DATE ILLEGIBLE, IN THE YEAR 1820

  I know Moltique considers the creature we shot to be a monkey bearing unusual mutations. I myself cannot forget thinking I first saw a wild boar, then a human being. I do trust Moltique, and yet I wondered aloud what species of monkey lived in these latitudes, giving Moltique the opportunity to snort disparagingly. He pointed his pipe stem at me and asked if I had never before heard of the unheard-of.

  I asked the professor what could have caused the strange mutations in the monkey, and he said, teasingly – knowing my religious upbringing – that the mutations were the work of Satan himself. I was taken aback by his mockery. Then he became serious and told me about countless other oddities he had seen while on his travels. The changes in the monkey are but one of the myriad wonders of the world, he implied. Several years have gone by since he last caused a stir in French scientific circles and I had the impression he was planning a Great Return. I hope he succeeds, for it would help me to get established as a recorder and chronicler in the service of notable explorers.

  Moltique is not an easy taskmaster, but I can be thankful that I am able to be part of this adventure.

  I have earlier told of May 7th, the day we found the cave, though I have not described our find in any detail. I come back to the subject because, as a child, I always dreamed of discovering a perfect cave with a sand-covered floor and a bubbling freshwater spring into which daylight filtered prettily. I have no way of knowing if this cave is like that inside; I imagine going inside one day, but I want to be on my own, without Moltique and our assistants. So far, we have only seen the exterior of the cave. Its low, humble mouth opens out into a pleasant, grassy field which enjoys sunlight from dawn to dusk. Now, in early summer, the grass is still green and vigorous, but later it will no doubt become burnt and dry. The opening is surrounded by a dense mixed forest dominated by spruces. The same narrow but torrential river that we use daily for our cooking and ablutions flows through it. The river water is translucent in the sunlight, like amber, revealing round stones, fine reddish gravel and graylings that rest close to the bottom – the men catch them for our meals. I am excited, marvelling at nature’s cornucopia, and it becomes ever easier for me to understand how the man-like monkeys survive in this wilderness. It is hard, though, to imagine what winter will bring. I have never before lived out in the open in the middle of a forest.

  JUNE 15TH IN THE YEAR 1820

  In the morning, discussing our discovery, I asked what the professor now thought about our quest to find the Paphlagonians’ descendants. He looked at me as if I were slow-witted and said that the nature of our expedition changed the day we shot our first monkey. He told me he had a new theory that he had not completely finalized but on which he was working daily. I was hoping he would enlighten me as to his hypothesis, but he sank back into his thoughts. Soon after breakfast, I got up and –

  – our assistants told me that Moltique anticipates another hunting trip, once we have observed the cave and its inhabitants for long enough. He wants more detail as to what the creatures look like, their activities, their diet, how they procreate –

  – there’s no hurry. Moltique is prepared for this expedition to last years –

  JUNE 21ST IN THE YEAR 1820

  Moltique and I were ambling from the cave to the camp, just the two of us, and because, unusually, he happened to be in an expansive mood – indeed, I have often been the target of his arrogant, acid tongue – he kindly told me his preliminary thoughts, to the effect that mankind originally evolved from an animal state.

  This revelation set my mind in turmoil. At home, I had become familiar with the doctrines of the Bible. But of course, as my father was a learned man, I had been brought up to be not just religious but also tolerant. Moltique got carried away by his ideas and lectured me during the whole journey through the forest. Only when we parted did I get the opportunity to ask myself a question: did Moltique mean to say that the cave dwellers were animals in the process of evolving into human beings? I would have liked him to explain further, but he did not appear at dinner. He merely sent a message to say he was concentrating on his work. I had his portion of wood grouse sent to the tent where –

  – it is early morning and I will now stop writing my notes, though I know I shall not be able to sleep. I am in turmoil, given all I have heard, and oppressed by my ignorance.

  JUNE 28TH IN THE YEAR 1820

  Today we managed to approach the cave without the inhabitants spotting us. As we observed, they simply went about their business.

  Cavorting on the grass in front of the cave, the creatures bore an uncanny resemblance to human children. In a fit of atypical lyricism, Moltique called them children of shadows. The name is apt, for they are prone to withdraw from direct light.

  JULY, DATE ILLEGIBLE, IN THE YEAR 1820

  – I thought Moltique’s joke was unacceptably coarse, but our men guffawed loudly. They are like a pack of hounds that have acquired the taste of blood – We all suffer from a bottomless hunger all the time. Hunting is not only necessary, it also provides agreeable variety and excitement; life in the camp is monotonous. I myself have learned a great deal while accompanying Bruno, our hunter. The prey is stabbed, then the blood and superfluous innards are removed. This guarantees the preservation of the prey and the quality of the meat. Gutting requires supple fingers and precision. The dogs are rewarded with the innards we don’t need – All this is part of our daily life. I respect and would like to thank all who keep us in food, but I did not like the joke that was directed at the small, slight creature close to the cave mouth –

  Probably the first entire entry of the diary.

  JULY, DATE ILLEGIBLE, IN THE YEAR 1820

  Assisting Moltique has granted me access to many new experiences, as I have already indicated. My diaries are unlikely to be of any great historical significance, but they may well entertain other lovers of distant lands, if published. I can imagine most Parisians finding my description of the landlord of that Bierstube amusing. Some of my tales hint at the great upheavals that lie just ahead. During our
journey, we encountered a man from the United Kingdom of the Netherlands who dreamed of building a self-propelling carriage. He sounded perfectly sane, though I was not able to have a proper conversation with him; Moltique was too busy trumpeting his own achievements.

  But in any case, Moltique has already led me to places I could only dream of as a little boy. For a long time, I thought I would live like my father, surrounded by books, far from the world about which he taught me. Growing up, however, I began to feel a pressing need to break away and to enter the life my childhood in a learned home had been preparing me for. So I moved to Paris. I still remember how I felt, realizing that I was no longer being followed by my father’s stern but caring gaze or my mother’s loving eyes. The freedom I had dreamed of took my breath away, almost crushing me. I wanted to crawl under the bed like my dog, Noir, who was afraid of thunder. I spent most of the first week in Paris in my room, barely bold enough to buy bread from the bakery downstairs. Then I decided to spread my wings and enjoy my freedom.