Authors: Peter Dickinson
Dith raised his right hand with the fingers spread wide apart in a gesture of formal greeting and muttered quietly for a few moments. Suth knew what this meant. When the Kin came to a place that had power in it, such as Tarutu Rock or Lightning Tree, their leader would make their peace with that power before they passed by, or camped there.
Dith moved aside and gestured to the Moonhawks to drink while he and Mohr stood guard. Noli took longer than the others because she was feeding Otan a sip at a time from her mouth. While they waited for her, Suth gazed at the lake. His sense of awe grew steadily stronger. He had never in his life seen such an expanse of water, nor felt such stillness. Nowhere in the world, not even the Rock of Meeting at Odutu below the Mountain, where he would not go until the time came for him to be made a man, could be like this. Perhaps he would never go to Odutu now. But he had seen this place.
Tinu touched his elbow, breaking his trance. She pointed towards the water's edge. There, on a patch of mud, just beyond where they had drunk, was a large paw print. The mark of each broad toe showed clearly. Suth's father had shown him just such a print on a sandbank at Sometimes River.
Now he knew what the men stood guard against.
Leopard.
Oldtale
ODUTU BELOW THE MOUNTAIN
The First Ones made nests and lairs for the children of An and Ammu, according to their kinds. Thus Moonhawk made a nest of twigs among the crags and carried there the two that she was to care for, and the Ant Mother dug a chamber in the earth for the two that she was to care for. So with the others, according to their kinds
.
Only Monkey did nothing. An and Ammu did all that, and he watched
.
The First Ones fed the children according to their kinds. Thus Little Bat fed them upon insects, and Crocodile fed them upon creatures that she caught as she lay in wait. So with the others, according to their kinds
.
Only Monkey did nothing. An and Ammu did all that, and he watched
.
When the children were grown to the height of a garri bush, the First Ones brought them to Odutu
below the Mountain. It was there that An and Ammu had their camp at that season
.
The First Ones set the children down a little way from Odutu and told them, “See that great rock. Go there and find a thing.”
The children went forward hand in hand, two and two, while the First Ones watched invisible around. They gave back to Ammu the memory that they had taken from her, and she looked up and saw her children, pair and pair and pair, coming to her out of the bush
.
Then she rejoiced that they were given back to her
.
And An rejoiced with her, and said, “This is Odutu below the Mountain. This is our Rock of Meeting. From this day it is sacred. From this day an oath sworn here is an oath for ever, and a peace made here is a peace for ever.”
And it was so
.
CHAPTER SIX
While the Moonhawks were at the lake, Paro had put what was left of the fox leg to roast among the hot embers of the fire. When they returned she gave them other food, soft lumps of yellow stuff and dark strips of sun-dried root, which they chewed until all the nutty flavour was gone, and then spat the rest out. The root was strange to them, but the Kin used to make the same kind of yellow stuff from pounded seed, mixed with water. They ate it eagerly.
When the meat was cooked, Paro hacked the flesh off it with a good strong cutter, and handed it around. It was delicious after days of raw flesh, but their stomachs were tired of meat and they didn't eat much.
When they had finished, Suth signalled to the others and they all rose and stood in a line in front of Paro, clenched their fists, and knocked their knuckles together three times.
Food was seldom plentiful, so even when it was, one Kin never accepted a meal from a different Kin without the regular ritual of thanks. Sula laughed aloud, as if they'd done something extraordinary. Paro simply smiled, and spread her hands in a vague gesture.
“We have plenty,” she said.
This made Suth puzzled and uneasy. The Moonhawks had done what they knew was the right thing, but Sula had answered rudely, and Paro as if they'd done something stupid. Sula had been friendly, and Paro kind, but how could he trust these people if they behaved like that?
“We cannot take and take from your store,” he said. “Show me where we can forage for food, and not make others angry.”
“It is far,” said Paro. “Your small ones are tired, and the baby is heavy to carry.”
“They stay,” said Suth. “I go with Tinu. But we have no gourd, to carry food home.”
“What is gourd?” she asked. “We take leaves, to carry.”
She showed him one. It was thick and leathery, and far larger than any he had ever seen. Carefully she turned the ends up and folded it down the middle rib, tucking the folded ends in, and then slid it under her arm. She put the fingers of her other hand together and mimed picking a seed head and dropping it between the two halves of the leaf. Then she handed it to him.
“I cannot come,” she said. “My child is almost born. Sula shows you, but she must come back for the birth.”
Suth looked at Noli, and she nodded. He felt relieved. This at least was something that was the same among the Kin. If a woman had a daughter and was pregnant again, the daughter must be there at the birthing to see how all was done, so that she would know when her own time came. A mother who bore no more children might ask permission for her daughter to watch when other mothers gave birth. This was important woman lore.
Suth thanked her again, and the three of them set out, with Sula carrying the bone from the fox leg. Before long they came to a narrow deep ravine. The place reeked. Three vultures rose as they reached the edge. Sula tossed the bone in.
Suth peered over the edge. On the floor of the ravine lay an immense pile of bones, picked clean by scavengers. He was amazed, stupefied. The Kin, of course, used to carry such stuff well clear of wherever they rested, so there was often a scattering of bones ringing their regular camps, but never like this. These people, how long had they lived here to make such a pile? Tens and tens and more tens of rains. They had this one Good Place with so much in it to hunt and forage that they never needed to journey to another. His mind wouldn't think about it. It was too strange.
Sula led them above the line of scrub, until they reached a ground rat warren. Several traps had been set, the kind that Suth had watched his father makeâa large rock propped on a triangle of sticks, and baited so that when the bait was moved the sticks gave way and the rock fell. Tinu at once crouched by one of the traps and studied it intently.
“Look,” said Sula. “Baga catches a rat. She makes good traps.”
“How can you know it is Baga?” said Suth.
“There is her mark,” said Sula, pointing to a little pattern of pebbles beside the trap, three in a line and one below. “All her family use this mark. This is Jun's mark. He catches nothing. Do you make a trap? What mark do you choose?”
“Tell me,” said Suth.
“Good. You have four like so, and one to the side. You may set your trap here, or in any warren where you see traps. The rats are stupid. They do not learn soon, but when many are caught, the others know not to take the bait. Then we leave that warren and go to another.
“Now I must go back,” she added. “I must be with my mother at the birthing. I show you where the others forage.”
She led them further up the hill and turned. From here Suth could see that the forest didn't in fact fill the whole of the bottom of the bowl between the circling ridges. It lay in two wide belts on either side of the lake, which was now visible for most of its length. It stretched a whole day's journey into the distance, an immense, deep crack in the mountaintop, filled with water.
To the left, though, the ground rose and became grassland with patches of open scrub and scattered, flat-topped trees.
“They are there,” said Sula.
He looked along her pointing arm and in the far distance saw a line of dark dots. He recognized them at once. No other creatures move or hold themselves in the same way as people.
“My thanks,” said Suth.
He didn't have any bait for a trap, so he and Tinu set out, while Sula returned to the camp. As soon as they were picking their way between the areas of scrub, he saw signs of recent foraging. These people were not at all as thorough as the Kin would have been. This was rich country, as good as any of the old Good Places, but there were clumps of grass not stripped of their seed heads, termite nests not dug out, dead branches not stripped for the grubs beneath the bark. But he and Tinu didn't stop for any of the possible pickings. It was important only to do what the others did, and forage where they foraged.
They found the people not working, but resting in the shade of a group of trees. Someone had already come from the cave with news of the Moonhawks' arrival, so they weren't challenged. Several children did rush out to meet them, and then instead of greeting them, stood silent and staring and followed them back to the trees.
A few men were on one side, sitting in a circle and playing some kind of game, and a larger group of women were talking quietly among themselves while they husked seed or fed babies.
The men glanced up and went back to their game. Suth waited, watching them as they in turn tossed pebbles onto a pattern of lines they had drawn in the dust. He assumed that after a while whoever was leader would look up and nod or beckon to him. Then he would kneel and patter his hands on the ground in sign of submission, and ask to be allowed to forage in this people's Place.
Nothing happened. The men continued their game. Tinu, at Suth's side, stood with her head bowed and her eyes down, as if thinking that if she couldn't see anyone then she herself couldn't be seen.
Suth looked around, and a young woman who was sitting against a tree, feeding her baby, smiled at him.
“Who is leader?” he asked her.
She shrugged and frowned, puzzled.
“Mosu?” she suggested.
“Who then do I ask,
May I forage in this Place?”
“Mosu spoke to Pagi,” she said. “Pagi came to us. You may forage with us.”
“I thank.”
He squatted beside her and Tinu crouched by him, shielding herself from the others with his body. He looked around the group. There were ten and ten and ten of them, and a few more. This was a big Kin. Moonhawk at its most had been only ten and ten and one more. The Crocodile Kin, when they had last met at Stinkwater had been only ten and four. But then, there had been six other Kins beside those two. There were more of these people back at the cave, of course, as well as men out hunting, but still it was not very many if these were the only Kin who ever came here.
Where did they go to find mates? he wondered. The young men of the Moonhawks went to Little Bat and Crocodile to beg a mate, and young men came from Weaver and Parrot to beg from Moonhawk.
“I am Suth,” he said. “This one is Tinu. We are Moonhawk.”
“I am Loga,” she said. “My son is not yet named.”
“And what is your Kin?” he asked.
She stared at him, and put her knuckles to her mouth. He realized that he must have said a Thing-that-is-not-spoken, though among the Kin he knew the sign would have been given with the palm of the hand.
“My shame,” he muttered, spreading his hands, palm down, in front of his chest, and then slowly lowering them as a sign of pushing the evil back into the earth.
She nodded, but turned away and concentrated on her baby.
When they had finished their game, the men picked up their digging sticks and loped off along the edge of the scrub. The women and children moved out into the open, formed a line and started to forage steadily across the ground. Almost all of them had folded leaves under their arms, to carry what they had gathered. None had a gourd. Perhaps there were no gourds in the valley.
Suth and Tinu joined the end of the line and worked steadily. Before the sun was halfway down the sky they had gathered enough for their own needs for a full day, but they had Noli and the small ones to feed too, so they didn't stop. Suth was crouching by a clump of spike-grass, stripping off the ripe seed heads, when he felt a curious sensation, as if the solid ground was trembling beneath the soles of his feet. It lasted only a short while and as it ended the whooping call of Big Voice rose from the forest. Far off, another answered. The weird cries floated out over the treetops and away towards the barren ridges.
The line of foragers stopped work and stood to listen to the call. As it died away, the woman working next to Suth turned and smiled.
“He sings,” she said. “Paro gives birth, perhaps. The baby is good. Big Voice is happy for the baby.”
The other women seemed to have had the same idea. Without waiting for the men, they started back for the cave.
Ko came running to meet them across the last slope. He held up his arms. Suth passed his carrying leaf to Tinu and picked him up.
“You come back,” said Ko happily.
“I come back,” said Suth.
“You father,” said Ko.
Suth must have looked startled, because Ko said it again.
“You father,” he insisted. “Noli mother. Mana say this. Yes?”
“Yes,” said Suth, slowly. “I am the father now, and Noli is the mother. You are the children, Tinu, Ko, Mana, and Otan.”
He was still surprised, but in a different way. All along he had been doing his best for the little ones, trying to keep them alive, and find them food and water and safety. But these weren't the only things they needed. They needed a father and a mother too, so they'd chosen Suth and Noli, since there was no one else. And it was Mana who had seen the need.
He thought about her as he carried Ko back to the camp. As usual with Mana, Suth hadn't especially noticed it at the time, but now he realized how easy she had made things, as far as she could, ever since he and Noli had rescued the four of them. She hadn't asked for anything, or complained of hunger or thirst or weariness, but she'd watched all the time, and been ready, and kept out of the way when she wasn't needed.