Death in the Time of Ice (10 page)

The Cuva looked at Bahg Swiftfeet, Tog Flint Shaper, and the two other Hamapa males, his dull eyes sparked with hope.
Have you brought us help? Can you feed us?

He gave a great sigh when he understood that they could not. They handed him a small amount of their jerky, but could not spare enough to make any difference. Indeed, they did not have much with them, nor back at their village. Goe told them of another settlement of people who looked like them.
We have traded with them in the past. They dwell to the north, a journey of three suns. But we have not seen them or heard from them for a very long time.

The spirit of Bahg weighed heavy as he followed Tog and the band out of the village and left the starving Goe. Teek Pathfinder and Donik Tree Trunk had looked, but had not found any more Cuva alive.

Now the travelers had another decision to make. They congregated outside the sad, empty village to decide where to go next.

Should we return home?
questioned Bahg.

You know the answer to that
, Tog thought-told them.
We must go on farther if we do not get food here. And Goe has said there is another village not too far off.

But should we consult…the Elders?
asked Teek, the youngest one on this mission. Bahg thought he had been about to continue, …
consult Hama
.

Teek had just received his second name, Pathfinder, a few moons ago when he turned fifteen. Teek was gaining a reputation as a follower of game. Now he resisted the idea of making their own decision without tribal input.

No, we are not going to bother them with this.
Tog was almost harsh with Teek.
They do not need to know how bad it is here.

What if the other village is like this one?

It is likely that the Cuva were too weak to thought-speak with them. Why should another village have all the ill fortune this one has had?

Teek grumbled, resisting this, and Bahg was half convinced he was right. But Tog convinced them that they should forge on, and perhaps bring food back for Goe, too. After consuming a little dried meat—their appetites were dulled after seeing the starving Goe—they turned from the direction of the rising sun and headed toward the Guiding Bear who roamed Mother Sky at dark time.

Bahg and Teek went along with misgivings.

Chapter 8

On the remote island of Flores, in what is now Indonesia, scientists in 2003 made a remarkable discovery—the remains of a pre-human being, only about three feet tall, who lived and thrived there until about 12,000 years ago.

—From ABC news article, “Prehistoric ‘Hobbit’ Was Definitely New Species” by Ned Potter, Jan. 29, 2007

The next day it rained, cold and hard, but there was no snow yet. Jeek stayed inside carving a wooden toy with his small knife. He wanted to give it to Fee’s baby at his Naming Ceremony. It would appear crude compared to the work of the New One, but the baby would probably like it.

Jeek’s birth mother was still tending the newborn and mother, and his locks had not been smoothed and bound in several suns. Not since Ung Strong Arm had returned wounded from the hunt. He tried to tame his hair, but gave up after a feeble attempt.

Ung had moved back into the wipiti she shared with Enga Dancing Flower. He would peek in on her sometime today. He and Teek were, after all, his mother’s apprentices.

After high sun, Jeek quit hearing the rain on the skins of his family’s wipiti. He opened the door flap and sniffed. The aftermath of the shower smelled like renewal. Sister Sun was disrobing quickly, casting off her cloud garments and scattering them at Mother Sky to consume. She smiled on her mate, Brother Earth. Her grinning beams sparkled on the stone of the Paved Place.

He saw that several others already squatted at the fireside in the center of the Paved Place. Akkal, the black-haired Fire-Tender, headed toward the hill to the Holy Cave where the sheltered fire burned. Akkal tended both fires, the sheltered one and the open one. He held a most important job.

I see the rain has doused our fire on the Paved Place
, called Jeek.

Yes, I go to carry new fire from the cave
, answered Akkal.

Sometimes Jeek wanted to be Akkal and have the task of tending the fires. The job earned admiration for the boy, and he was not even old enough for his Passage Ceremony yet.

I think
, thought-spoke Jeek to him,
a good name for you, when you have your Passage Ceremony, would be Akkal the Careful.

Akkal smiled at Jeek and continued up the hill.

Jeek put away his carving and peeked inside the wipiti of Enga and Ung, where he checked Ung’s wound.

It is looking better and better
, he told her.

How long before I can hunt?
she asked.

I cannot say. Not long, I think. But Zhoo of Still Waters will know better than I do.

After Akkal returned and stoked the flames, Jeek hunkered near the flames where the stones were beginning to dry.

When all had assembled, the Most High Male and the Storyteller stood before the fire that now leapt in the sunshine, throwing reflections on the damp surface of the Paved Place. The tribe sat in a half circle around the two Elders. At the feet of the Most High Male lay the gourd that had belonged to Hama. In front of the Storyteller lay a pile of small rocks, collected by the Fire-Tender.

Jeek chewed a strand of his hair and wriggled in his intensity to understand what was happening. He knew they were electing a new leader, but had never seen it done. Cabat the Thick, the Most High Male, signaled for the females who wished to be considered for the position of Most High Female to come to the front of the group.

Jeek held his breath. No one rose for several moments.

Then Nanno Green Eyes got to her feet, walked with solemn steps to stand beside the two Elders, and turned her back to the group. Nanno, who was the birth sister of Jansa Wild Wind, the leader they had just buried, resembled her in some ways. Nanno was tall like her sister, but her eyes were not nearly so wide-set, her scalp showed through her thin hair, and Jeek did not consider her as beautiful as Aja Hama had been. He blocked this idea as soon as it occurred to him, not wanting Nanno to detect it.

The fact that she was the sister of the dead leader would carry weight, Jeek assumed. But he did not think Nanno wise like her sister. The Aja Hama had been calm also, and Nanno was not often calm.

Next, Ongu Small One arose and stood beside Nanno, turning her back to the tribe, also. Ongu was not tall and seemed especially short standing beside Nanno. Jeek looked at their straight backs, knowing they were both nervous. He considered Ongu clever because she liked to try new ways to fix food. Too tiny and slow to be of use in the hunt, she had never gotten injured and her body was whole and unharmed. Her hair grew very long and she wound her braid around her head. Her mate, Sannum Straight Hair, the brother of Cabat, was much older than she was. The tribe looked up to her because she had borne three healthy children who all lived, including the youth, Mootak. Mootak was a member of the gang led by Kung, but Jeek suspected Mootak would not act so bad if he weren’t influenced by Kung.

With his mind on Kung, Jeek heard a thought from him.
I wish I could vote, but I am too young. My Passage Ceremony has not come soon enough to vote this day.

Which female would you vote for?
ventured Jeek.

Which do you think, doondoon?
Jeek could hear the sneer in the thought-speak.
Nanno Green Eyes, of course.

Kung’s birth mother had died when he was born and Nanno had taken charge of him, her children being all grown at that time. He had been suckled by whichever female had extra milk, so his childhood had been unsettled, never staying long at any one wipiti. But he had most often stayed with Nanno.

Jeek turned his head slightly to see if any other females would vie for the position. When the two Elders had determined that a sufficient amount of time had elapsed with no new candidates, Cabat stepped forward. He nodded to the group and they began to come to their feet. The females and males who were old enough, one by one, each picked up a stone and walked to the female they preferred.

* * *

Enga Dancing Flower was desperately tired. She had not slept soundly for so long. When she did drift off, horrid visions filled her head, visions of beasts coming at her and at Ung Strong Arm, visions of the two of them abandoned in a forest and cold and hungry, visions of one half of a tribe battling the other half, and visions of the earth splitting apart beneath her feet. She sometimes woke whimpering.

She felt a thought touch her, but, rather than the usual warm feeling this gave her, this one caused a coldness inside her. She looked around for the source. The New One sat near Vala Golden Hair, but his pink eyes were aimed at Enga. She shuddered. Was the New One thinking harmful ideas about her? Did this cause the chill that ran through her? She wondered if her tiredness was causing her to perceive things that did not exist.

Then he smiled at Vala, who returned his grin and accepted something small from him. Another of his exquisite carvings? Vala expressed delight to the New One and he bowed his head, humbled by her gratitude, Enga assumed. She wished her thoughts were not so jumbled and confused.

Enga shook her head to clear it and brought her attention to the proceedings. This was a difficult decision for her. She had never cared for Nanno Green Eyes, but she might make a better leader than Ongu Small One, a sweet person, but not a decisive one. Nanno was more abrasive, but maybe that would make her better at governing. Nanno was also older than Ongu, had seen more days, more summers. Enga conferred with Tog Flint Shaper in her mind.

Who do you desire in the vote?
she asked.
The two who have stood are Nanno Green Eyes and Ongu Small One.

I prefer Nanno over Ongu.

She asked from curiosity, as she would not vote for him.

At last Enga went to where the Storyteller stood, picked up a pebble from the pile, then walked to Nanno Green Eyes, bent down, and set her rock by the heels of Nanno. The males who were away sent their opinions back to the tribe, through the Most High Male, so everyone was able to vote. Cabat gathered a few stones and distributed them according to their wishes. Enga watched Cabat place a rock behind Nanno for Tog.

Enga would, however, vote for Ung, who had stayed behind in the wipiti the sisters shared.Enga told her who was standing.

My vote goes to Ongu Small One. I would never vote for that Nanno Green Eyes. You know how much she dislikes us.

Enga put a rock for Ung by the feet of Ongu.

Zhoo of Still Waters tended Fee Long Thrower and the baby at the Holy Cave. These two sent their mental votes to the group and Cabat placed rocks for them behind Nanno.

When all had chosen, the two women turned around. Cabat lined up their rocks so they corresponded and all could see the results. There were a lot more rocks in front of Nanno. The Most High Male handed her the gourd of leadership. A big grin broke out on Nanno’s face and a cheer went up.

Enga experienced the crowing triumph of Nanno, the new Hama, as she rattled the gourd toward Mother Sky and whooped aloud. Enga thought Ongu let out a stab of bitter disappointment, but she may have been mistaken. The more tired she became, the more muddled mental signals seemed. She saw Ongu reach over to touch the shoulder of Nanno. To Enga, Ongu’s smile looked genuine, but Nanno’s wrinkled face gloated. Maybe she was just very happy, though, Enga thought, attempting to see the best side of Nanno, whose thoughts were now opaque.

If these were usual times, there would have been a feast for the rest of the day, but this day they merely nibbled on a bit of dried meat and some nuts and stayed together as dark began to descend.

Enga looked around and noticed the New One had departed from the circle.

At one point during the approach of last sun Enga Dancing Flower stretched up and concentrated. She was receiving a thought wave from Tog Flint Shaper.

Now that the vote is over,
he told her,
I must let the Hamapa know our news. The Cuva have no food.

No food? How are they living?

Most of them are dead.

So you cannot trade with them.

No, we must search farther. We are traveling farther. I want you to communicate this to our new Hama.

Why do you not tell her yourself?
asked Enga.

You know she is not my favorite member of the tribe.

She is not mine, either,
Enga grumbled, but agreed to convey his message. She ran to tell her of Tog’s message.

Hama’s brows drew down and she closed her close-set eyes. Enga surmised she was gathering patience to deal with the crisis. Then Hama arose and called the nightly assembly together.

After Lakala Rippling Water sang, the Storyteller started to relate a tale Enga had not heard before. It was from their past, when more neighboring tribes lived close and there was more trading. He squinted his good eye and told of the Cuvas, and others, and of trading flint knives for suet and flesh. Then he told of the Mikino. Their diet was vastly different. They ate mostly grains and plants, which the Hamapa detested. They also kept large cats captive, but did not eat them. They traded their beautiful pelts for knives. Next, he mentioned the Tall Ones, where the New One had come from, and started to describe their garments, wonderfully woven and sewn.

The new Hama chopped her hand at him, stopping him in mid-thought. Her rudeness shocked Enga. She could tell it shocked Panan One Eye, too. And irritated him. He pulled at his lower lip, then rubbed a hand over his hairless scalp.