Other Worlds Were Possible, page 11
The representatives agreed upon a plan which Sunny did not quite catch.
Everyone exhaled.
It seemed the assembly was about to disband. And Sunny, for his part, was relieved. He was tired of these formalities, and keen for the dancing to begin. But when Bear asked if anyone had something to add, Serenity rose to his feet.
“We were approached by an exiled brother,” he said; looking around at the gathered masses, before turning back to face the other representatives. “This man delivered a grave warning: A strange and dangerous people are on their way. Their skin is the colour of sand.”
Bear nodded, whilst responding with a single word:
“Wogies?”
This comment split the tribe. A handful of clans hummed in agreement. But Serenity frowned; opening his palms, to invite an explanation.
“Ah, yes, I suppose they must be Wogies…
“You don’t know the story?... No?... Okay then. Please allow me to explain… In Ancient Times, back when our ancestors had only just lost their wings, our tribe was flown to these lands in the beaks of giant birds. When we arrived, two tribes were already here. The first, the Zogies, were a warlike tribe who we vanquished in battle. The second, the Wogies, were a peaceful tribe, whom we enslaved. They were, as you put it, ‘The colour of sand’. And they were knowledgeable. They taught us how to cure hides, weave baskets and build canoes; how to hunt, fish, farm and gather.
“Esteemed sisters: Those were happy days. But they weren’t destined to last. Our ancestors, you must understand, allowed themselves to get carried away. They forced the Wogies to perform too many tasks... Things became so unfair, so unjust, that the Wogies eventually snapped. They couldn’t stand to be enslaved any longer.
“After the Grand Feast, which brought the Big Camp to a close, those slaves made a dash for freedom. Our ancestors tried to catch them. But they’d become so fat and cumbersome, they were unable to maintain the chase. We never saw the Wogies again.”
Bear paused before concluding:
“It appears that the Wogies must have returned, after all these generations. They must have come to reclaim this land.”
Serenity scrunched his lips. He was almost certain that Bear was mistaken. But he was loath to confront such a respected individual, in front of her peers, without any evidence to support his hunch.
“You may be correct. You usually are. But, by the good earth, one thing is certain: If these strangers are Wogies, then they’ve changed beyond recognition. They’re no longer a peace-loving tribe. They’ve killed hundreds-of-thousands of people. And they plan to come for us; speeding along, atop animals they call ‘Horses’, and shooting this thing they call a ‘Gun’.”
Kitten passed a rifle to Serenity, who held it aloft; turning three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, so that everyone could see.
A question rang out from the banks:
“It has no sharp point, no blade, no arrows. What threat could it possibly pose?”
Having anticipated such a challenge, Serenity beckoned towards a thicket. After a few moments of hushed suspense, Sparrow, who had made a full recovery, emerged with a bearded goat.
He had acquired that animal from the Dog Clan; exchanging it for three spears, and a promise to provide a fourth. The Dog Clan was the only clan in the tribe that kept a herd of goats, which they moved from place to place. Each clan was individual in this respect. Songbird’s clan kept oxen; moving them about in a similar fashion. Other clans kept chickens or guinea fowl; leaving them in their Small Camps, whenever they moved about. Some clans managed orchards or grew crops. Others bred fish or frogs.
Sparrow led the goat into the circle.
Serenity lifted the rifle to his shoulder, pointed its muzzle towards the goat, and gazed along the barrel.
Bang!
The explosion was unlike anything the tribes-folk had ever experienced. It inspired a collective gasp. A couple of people screamed. Most shuffled backwards, involuntarily, unaware of their own reactions. But very few people looked away. Their eyes remained fixed on the goat, whose head exploded in slow-motion; spraying various amounts of blood, in a multitude of directions. The goat’s body stood firm for the briefest of moments. Then its knees buckled. It seemed it might regain its composure. Then its legs crumpled, and its body slunk to the ground.
Serenity turned towards the direction from which the challenge had come, gave a look which seemed to say, “Does that answer your question?”, waited for a response which was not forthcoming, waited a little longer, and then addressed the rest of the tribe:
“These aliens aren’t like us. Their skin is the colour of sand. They sit high on their horses, and slaughter their enemies using these guns. The ancestors know that this is true. The Sons of Empire… The Wogies have already killed hundreds-of-thousands of natives; people like you and me. They believe this land is theirs.”
After the appropriate period of silence, Bear stood to respond:
“So, what do you suggest we do?
“If they attack us, we may have no choice but to defend our homes. Still, let’s not forget the past: When I was a youth, we waged war on the Western Tribes. And do you know what happened? People said we’d ‘Won’ the war; we’d proved we were great warriors, capable of vanquishing any foe… Esteemed sisters: I remember a different story. I remember the day a brother died. I remember the pain in our great auntie’s eyes, when she took her final breath. Almost half our tribes-folk perished. And for what? That war didn’t bring peace. We endured many more skirmishes during the seasons and solstices which followed. Nor did it improve our lives. Things returned to the way they’d been before.
“Brother Serenity: We endure such conflicts every generation or two. Our grandmother told me of a similar war, with a Northern Tribe, back when she was a child. Her mother spoke of clan-on-clan battles. If war comes, we might have to fight. But we’d be wise not to court a conflict.
“Honourable tribes-folk: We’ve always had two freedoms. The freedom to disobey aspiring Big Men, and the freedom to abandon those Uncle Crows… It seems we cannot disobey these Wogies. They’ll wage an unwinnable war. And neither can we flee. If we do, they’ll chase us on these horses. If we hide, they’ll find us, or we’ll starve… So, what are you actually proposing? Are you asking us to perform a ghost dance? Are you suggesting we make an offering to Mother Nature?”
Serenity nodded at the last suggestion, before gesturing towards the goat.
Bear continued:
“Have you even seen these wonderful Wogies?”
Serenity nodded again.
“And did they kill you?”
Serenity refused to be ruffled by such a question.
“If they let you live, what makes you suppose they intend to come for us?”
This time Serenity did respond:
“Why has anyone ever come for us? They want our land, trees, animals, sisters and brothers.”
Bear thumbed her chin:
“And these strange aliens you met, did they take your sisters or brothers?”
Serenity shook his head.
“Why ever not?”
“They were weak. The poor things hadn’t drunk in days.”
“Esteemed brother: You say they’re a threat, with the power to kill hundreds-of-thousands. And then you tell us they can’t even care for themselves? Even a baby knows how to drink.”
Bear allowed the semblance of a smile to form along the edges of her cheeks. She folded her arms, leaned back, and gazed out across the crowd.
“So, Brother Serenity: What do you propose we do, to protect ourselves against this ‘Threat’? These Wogies? These descendent of peaceful slaves? These people of whom we know so little; just the tales you’ve heard from an exile?”
Serenity closed his eyes, opened them slowly, and whispered his response:
“I don’t wish to propose a motion. I’m just a humble messenger, gifting you this information.”
THE HUNT
Their tribe contained somewhere between fifty and a hundred clans. The exact number varied, because the clans tended to split whenever they grew too large, and whenever factions began to form. People moved from one clan to another. Some found lovers at the Big Camp, and decided to join their clans; an act which prevented inbreeding. And clans also disbanded; when their members struggled to reproduce, when they succumbed to attack, and when they suffered from fatal diseases.
Each clan was named after a mammal, amphibian, reptile, fish or bird. These were known as the clan’s spirit animals. The clans loved and protected these creatures. They performed rituals, to ask Mother Nature to defend them. And they attempted to create an environment in which they might flourish.
The clans also believed that their spirit animals took care of them. Whenever a member of the Eagle Clan spotted an eagle overhead, they felt strangely reassured. They believed that their ancestors’ spirits lived on within those birds; that they were watching over them, and protecting them from harm.
The neighbouring tribes were also split into clans, which all bore similar names. Whilst relationships between these tribes could be tempestuous, there were times of peace and times of war, relations with these sister clans tended to be good. Should Sunny’s clan ever come into contact with another Eagle Clan, they would welcome them with open arms; sharing everything they owned: Their food, their land and their bodies. The love-making could go on for days. The members of one Eagle Clan were essentially married to the members of all the Eagle Clans. It was only natural for them to partake in sexual relations.
The clans retained some individual features…
The Eagle Clan did not care for any livestock, but the Dog Clan raised goats. The Dog Clan only captured small animals, like rabbits and fish. The Eagle Clan targeted larger animals, such as boar and antelope.
The Eagle Clan lived in banana-leaf huts. Others lived in mud huts, teepees, caves or tents.
In some clans, the men all hunted and the women all gathered. In others, the roles were reversed. In most, the roles were mixed; everyone did the tasks they enjoyed the most.
A few of the clans kept pets; the orphaned offspring of the creatures they had hunted for food. They treated them in much the same way they treated their children; feeding them, lavishing them with affection, and taking them wherever they went. But different clans cared for different pets. A couple had adopted showy birds. Others had adopted small primates. They cared for dogs, cats, pigs, chickens and goats.
Each clan had its individual quirks. But each clan was a part of a greater whole: The tribe. When they convened, here at the Big Camp, their members shared their knowledge; speaking of their customs, practices and skills. Sometimes, they inspired other clans to imitate their ways.
There were other reasons for the clans to unite. Together, they were strong. They could repel attacks from rival tribes. And they could launch successful hunts, on a scale that would have been impossible within their tiny groups…
***
The ground was wet with rain. The air smelled of pollen and molasses.
By the time Sunny arrived, the clan’s best weapons had already been claimed. He was given the only remaining spear. Its stone blade was smaller than most. The flint had been sharpened so many times, over the course of so many seasons, that it had gradually worn away. But the handle was sturdy, and a new leather strap had been used to bind the spearhead to that pole.
Sunny was grateful for the weapon, although he would have preferred a bow, like the one his uncle had managed to wangle. The lad he met the previous day, had both a spear and a bow. But Sunny thought better than to complain. A few members of their clan did not have any weapons at all. One clan only had ten spears between them.
There was inequality here, the likes of which Sunny rarely experienced in the dry season. But that inequality of property was too small to provoke an inequality of power. People with two weapons could not give orders to people who did not have any. When it came to the hunt, everyone had to perform their task together, as equal members of a team.
The hunt began with a process of reconnaissance. A few people had already spotted a herd of buff antelope, a little further to the north. Their presence had been verified by the members of a different clan, who had found hoofprints and faeces.
The plan was to surround the entire pack of that large, ox-like variety of antelope, and drive them over a cliff. Unlike more aggressive kinds of antelope, this particular breed was not known to fight back. Its members tended to flee from danger. They were a herd animal, who did not scatter when under attack. And so they could be manoeuvred as a group; pushed towards the cliffs together.
But first, they had to be located…
A team of elders and adolescents went to gather plants, and to fish in the rivers; to ensure the tribes-folk would have something to eat, even if the hunt was unsuccessful. A few clans remained in their temporary city, to protect it from attack, and to babysit those children who were too big to carry, but too small to hunt. And a second set of clans were positioned along the bottom of the cliffs. Should a herd of antelope be forced over the precipice, the members of these clans would be responsible for spearing any animals who survived the fall.
Everyone else marched to the place where the antelope had been spotted, before spreading out across the plains. They dispersed a few sighters, to locate their prey, and settled down to wait.
The Eagle clan had been allocated a position among a brambly grove, where a cluster of trees provided cover from the sun and rain.
They had been paired with the Parrot Clan.
Sunny recognised a few individuals from that clan, whom he supposed must have been representatives at previous camps. But the majority of these people were strangers to him.
The elders, however, appeared to be on familiar terms. They chatted about a long-forgotten drought, a battle with another tribe, and what they dubbed, “The Time of the Immortal Hawks”.
To while away the time, a few of the women, including Sunny’s mother, began to play patolli...
Most of the females in the Eagle Clan, wore necklaces strung with beads they had carved from the eggshells of giant flightless birds. Most of the women in the Parrot Clan, wore beads they had made from bone. When they played Patolli, each woman staked six of their own beads, in the hope that they might win six of their opponent’s.
To play, each contestant threw five wooden tokens. Their score was determined by the number of tokens which landed with the marked-side facing up. If three tokens displayed such a mark, the player moved their bead three squares around an x-shaped leather board. The aim was to circumnavigate the entire board, landing on your opponent’s home square, without overshooting that target. Every time a player achieved this goal, they were allowed to take one of their opponent’s beads, and add it to their necklace. But if a player landed on a square which was marked with an O, they had to give that bead to their opponent. And if a player landed on one of the four shaded squares, and their opponent then landed on top of them, their opponent got to keep both beads.
To win, players needed a small amount of skill and a large amount of luck. Much of it came down to the roll of the tokens. Although, watching on, Sunny reckoned that there must have been a certain technique when it came to throwing those pieces. His mother seemed to roll an awful lot of fours and fives.
Although Sunny did not know it, cheating was relatively common. Anyone who could cheat without being caught, was afforded a great deal of respect. But anyone who was caught, could expect a torrid time. Fights had been known to break out when a cheater was exposed. People had been killed.
The games played on this day proved a peaceful affair. Most participants won as many beads as they lost. But the effect was clear for all to see: By the time the sun began to set, the majority of the women had lost around half their beads. They had won around half of their opponents’. Their necklaces now contained a fairly even mixture of bone and eggshell beads.
Sunny supposed this had been the intention all along. The clans had not wished to do anything so grubby as to trade; to barter, or to put themselves in each other’s debt. But they had wanted to exchange their beads. Games of chance, such as patolli, provided a social means by which this could be achieved; through gambling rather than trade. It had also helped to pass the time, which was just as well, since the sky was turning from pink, and the spotters had still not located the herd.
***
They had better luck the following morning…
Once again, the tribes-folk rose at dawn. They were delayed by a storm, waited for the rains to pass, and then headed to their allocated positions. Only this time, the sighters did spot the buff antelope, who had strayed a little further than the tribes-folk had anticipated. A messenger was dispatched, to ensure the clans beneath the cliffs were in the correct position. And two more messengers were dispatched, to inform the nearest groups along the line. These clans sent their own emissaries, to alert the next groups along. Before long, the news had been relayed down to the furthest outposts, and everyone had come together; forming a chain which contained over two-thousand individuals.
That chain advanced in single file.
Sunny, who was caught in the middle, had no choice but to follow the lead of those on either side. He had taken part in similar hunts, during the previous rainy seasons, so he knew they were effective. Yet he felt a little helpless. He had no say in proceedings; no option but to surrender himself to the process, for the overall good of the hunt.
Although he could not appreciate it from such a distance, the tribes-folk at the top of the chain had headed north, going well beyond the antelope, before turning back towards the cliffs; bending the cordon around the herd.
Hoot!
