The Cusp, Part IX
When they were staying in the camp of his band, he and the woman took the girl cousin with them. He had made her a throwing stick of heavy dense wood. The woman had described how a throwing stick was shaped and been with him when he made it explaining how the balance effected its flight. He had taken care crafting it and it was finished smoothly and oiled against moisture. He carved a boar’s head into the handle. They presented it to the girl cousin and the woman demonstrated how to throw it overhand and sidearm. The girl cousin carried it with her everywhere and practiced throwing at things throughout the day. She became very accurate and regularly came to camp with birds or hares. The uncle who sang songs celebrated her skill around the fire at night. She made sure to give part of her meat to the elders.
Once when she was with the women gathering and watching the young ones, the adventurous toddler had strayed a little way from the group. In the time it took for her to turn around a leopard stalked close to him. The leopard was crouched and ready to spring when she looked up. Without thinking she launched the throwing stick striking the leopard in the head and disorienting it. One of the young hunters was able to spear it. The girl cousin ran to the toddler and embraced him, checking him for injuries. The boy’s mother thanked her and held them both close. The story was told at the fire that night. The girl cousin spoke.
“I didn’t have time to think or aim. It was like the stick just threw itself.”
The woman spoke.
“You learned well young one. I am proud of you.”
The hunter spoke.
“The throwing stick is nothing without you. You are a team.”
“I like hunting small things with the throwing stick, but I really like learning about healing and being with the youngsters. We have fun together.”
“You have gifts for those things. Use your gifts for the people. Don’t force yourself to be someone other than who the mother made you to be. The people need all of our gifts to do well.”
The uncle sang a song about the girl who watches.
Spring came and it was time for the bands to move to other camps as the animals began to migrate following the grass. It began to take longer and longer for he and the woman to travel between bands. It was a hard decision, but they decided that they would stay with their respective bands until the gathering. They were needed by their families and their bands. It would be two full moons before they would reunite. He held her close the night before they separated and thye spoke in low voices under the robes.
“It hurts to even think about not seeing you for two moons.”
“I feel the pain as well; our people need us.”
“Will you still wear the betrothal band at the gathering?”
“Do you have to ask?”
“Well, I have been called an ugly smelly creature by some.”
“Sometimes your uncle’s humor is a little bit too much.”
“He means well and he is my friend as well as a blood relative.”
They separated the next day. His band gave her hunter food for the trip and gifts for her parents. Her younger brother had come to travel with her. He was growing taller and broader in the shoulders. The hunter spoke to him.
“The bow is changing how you look.”
“We spend a lot of time together. We shoot every day and bring in more meat than we used to.”
“You are learning well.”
“Will I ever know all she has to teach?”
“No. There is always something more. The bow asks much. You can show a young one the basics in a half day and they will spend the rest of their life learning the little things.”
“I am teaching the young ones in our band.”
“As you should. The bow wants us to share what she teaches.”
He hugged the woman and grasped forearms with the younger brother. He was proud of the man he was becoming. He watched them until they were out of sight.
Spring passed quickly. The band made a lot of meat as the animals migrated into the higher elevations.
His band began the trip to the gathering. They traveled quickly having left the heavy things in caches near camps in their territory. The gathering was mostly of the woman’s tribe, but they were welcome guests. The marriage of the hunter and the woman would reinforce bonds between their tribes. Tribe and kinship were important to all of the people living on the mother. Kinship helped avoid conflicts. When strangers met they introduced themselves formally using the long form of their names that included tribe, band, and lineage. It was a way of telling each other who they were and where they had come from. Often there would be a connection of some sort by tribe or association.
As they neared the place of the gathering they saw smoke from many fires on the horizon. They encountered more people. They learned that the woman’s band was already at the gathering place. They followed a well-worn trail. As they walked, they approached a group of people standing near an elder seated on a rock. One of the people came to them and spoke after introductions were made.
“The old one refuses to go on.”
“Why?”
“He says his legs are weak, his eyes are dim, his hands shake, his woman has gone to be with the ancestors, and he has no value to our band.”
The hunter spoke to his family. He took the contents of his backpack and divided it among them leaving just the frame and the shelf at the base. Then he removed his shirt and walked to the old one carrying his heavy spear. He stood where his shadow would fall near the old one and get his attention. He spoke.
“Greetings hunter!”
The old one looked up, his face was a mass of wrinkles and his eyes deeply hooded. His hair was thin and his mouth was sunken from loss of teeth. His hands were bent by arthritis and his knees were swollen. He saw a strong young man carrying a spear. His eyes lingered on his tattoos and the lion tooth and claw necklace. He understood what they meant. He hesitated and then grasped the extended forearm.
“I am no longer a hunter. I am just an old sack of bones and skin. It would be better if I went to join the ancestors.”
“Your band tells me that you have made much meat and protected your people for many years.”
“In my day I made sure that every shelter had meat when the mother favored me with a successful hunt. When there was danger, I did what a hunter is supposed to do. I had value then.”
“Then you are a hunter.”
“Not anymore. I am of no use to my people.”
“Hunter, you can be of help to me if you would be willing.”
“What could I do for one so young and strong?”
“In the winter I had a disagreement with a boar.”
“What type of disagreement.”
“I wanted my people to eat him. He did not want to be eaten.”
He indicated the fresh red scar on his calf. The old one looked at the scar.
“You have healed well. Did you get the boar?”
“Yes, but he ran up my spear shaft to tell me how he felt about it.”
The old one laughed. It was the laugh of one who understood how often life and death were balanced on a fine edge. The laugh of one who had seen death come close and miss by the width of a finger. The laugh of one who had lived.
“When you hunt brother boar, lash a cross bar the width of your hand onto the shaft of your spear. It will keep him from running up the shaft. How can I help you?”
“The healer says that I need to exercise my leg more for it to regain its strength. She says carrying a load on my back will help. Would you be willing to ride on my backpack frame to help me regain my strength?”
He and the old one locked eyes. They communicated much more than words could have.
“I will help a fellow hunter.”
He padded the shelf on the backpack with a robe. The old one’s band helped him onto the seat and tied him to the frame. They set out toward the gathering. He spoke to the old one.
“Hunter, what is your way of hunting aurochs?”
The old one talked for several minutes of hunts for aurochs throughout his life. His eyes brightening at the memory.
“What about gazelles?”
The old one told of more hunts and how he had been successful and had failed. His voice grew stronger and more animated. As they walked, he asked the old one about hunting other animals, what to do when a storm caught a lone hunter, and a dozen other things about life and hunting. He knew the answers to the questions he asked. He was not asking to gain knowledge.
“Hunter, I am going to the gathering to meet my betrothed. We have followed the custom and not had intercourse. I want to please her well on our wedding night. What should I do?”
The old one told of how to take time and be sure a woman was ready. How to make her feel her greatest pleasure before entry, and how to hold her close and talk to her after. His voice grew softer then as he remembered his woman and their years together.
They had reached the hill above the gathering. There were many shelters below. He spoke to the old one.
“You have helped me with my leg. It is loosening. Can I ask more of you?”
“Ask young one.”
“Will you walk with me into the gathering?”
“Of course.”
“One other thing. This spear is new. Can you carry it and tell me what you think of the balance. I’m not sure it is right for my build.”
“I will be glad to give you, my opinion.”
The old one dismounted from the backpack and took the spear. They walked very slowly into the gathering. The old one leaned on the spear. Others passed them but they continued at their own pace. They arrived at the campsite of the old man’s band. The old man stood straight and spoke.
“It is a good spear. I think she will do well for you once you get used to her.”
“Thank you I wasn’t sure.”
He addressed the old man’s band.
“This hunter has helped me much today. He carries years in his head. He is of great value to this band. I am honored to have traveled with him.”
The old one stood as straight as his years, the weight of loss, and life would allow and looked him in the eyes. The grasped forearms. He removed his pack frame and put his shirt on tucking the lion tooth and claw necklace inside.
He found where the woman’s band had camped. His band was with them. The woman’s band had saved them a campsite next to theirs along the river. The woman ran to him and jumped into his arms. He held her against him for a long time remembering the feeling of her body and breathing in her smell. She kissed him.
“I have never had a greeting like that. It was almost worth two moons apart.”
“Really”
“I said almost.”
Everyone laughed. He grasped forearms with the men of her band before he was mobbed by the children. He lifted them one by one into the air and twirled them around as they squealed. The woman’s older brother approached him holding the hand of a woman. She was young and pretty with brown eyes and an athletic build. She wore a betrothal band on her left wrist. The older brother introduced her giving her full name and tribal lineage. He spoke to her.
“You have chosen well. He is a good man and will provide for you and your young ones.”
“Thank you, He speaks well of you and says he is glad you will be his brother after the wedding.”
He and his family set up their light travel shelters under the trees and made a fire pit with stones. He and his betrothed decided to walk along the path between the shelters. The woman and her band were known among her tribe, and she introduced him as they went. They continued along the path that had already been worn among the shelters. A female voice called to the woman. It was her sister sitting in the shade near a shelter scraping a hide and nursing a young one. They approached her and the woman introduced him.
“You are the one who will be my kin in a few days. Sit and talk with me a while.”
“I will be honored to be your kin. This one has not cut off the band so I guess she will still have me.”
The woman punched him on the shoulder and narrowed her eyes playfully.
“She talks of little else but you. I don’t think a bull aurochs could pull that band off her wrist.”
Hospitality required that the sister offer food. They politely declined.
“The young one looks healthy.”
“He is just starting to walk. I have already started putting things out of his reach.”
The young one turned his head to look at them without taking his mouth from the nipple. Eventually he was full and half crawled over to them. The children of the tribes were in contact with people every waking hour. They spent much time going from person to person whenever they felt the need for a cuddle. Before they were weaned, they would nurse from multiple women during the day. The young one crawled into the woman’s lap and settled in. The hunter listened as the woman and her sister caught up on family and the goings on in their bands. Her sister asked him about his family and band. As they watched a man walked by. He was limping painfully and his face was swollen. He could barely see out of one eye. The woman spoke.
“What happened to him?”
“He fell down a hill while hunting.”
“That must have been some hill.”
“It was a hill made of his woman’s father, brothers, and two uncles.”
“How is a hill made of men?”
The sister laughed and then spoke.
“He is a capable hunter, but he likes mead too much. When he drinks, he gets mean. He beat his woman. She is a petite little thing. Her family warned him. He beat her after the warning. The men in her family took him “hunting” and he “fell down a hill.” The “hill” hit him every place he hit his woman. This is his last chance. If he hits her again, he will be expelled from the band and probably the tribe if he doesn’t fall down a steeper hill.”
Being expelled from the tribe was worse than death for the people. Without a tribe a person lost all identity, belonging, and value. Some who were expelled just sat on the ground until the life left them. It was the most extreme punishment available.
The sister looked to him.
“Do you drink?”
“I really don’t like to. It makes my head fuzzy. Once I got really sick the next morning. I heard that in the city they mix water with grain and honey and drink it after it ferments. It is not supposed to be very strong and gives them something to do with all the grain. I prefer good water if it is available.”
The woman spoke.
“What happens when you drink?”
“I just sit by myself and get quieter.”
“I didn’t think that was possible.”
“I speak when I have something to say.”
“I have learned.” She laughed.
A man approached them. He was carrying a spear and had a haunch of meat. He was of average height with a sinewy build and intelligent eyes. He wore his hair tied back with a leather strap across his forehead. The young one raised his arms and grunted smiling a two tooth smile. The man put down the meat and spear and swung him into his arms. The young one shrieked as he was spun around. The man lifted him to his face and placed his lips against his tummy blowing out making a razzing sound. The young one laughed louder. The sister rose and embraced the man. She introduced him to the hunter. He had already stood up and they grasped forearms. He gave his formal name in accordance with custom. Then he spoke.
“You had luck.”
“A group of us went out this morning. We found gazelles. We divided the meat. That is my share. Stay and eat with us.”
“Your woman has offered us food. We should probably be getting back to our camp.”
The woman spoke.
“Our mothers are planning a big meal, and we need to prepare for the wedding.”
“You are always welcome at this fire.”
“We will visit again before the gathering ends.”
“I will probably see you at the games.”
The woman hugged her sister and the young one and they began to walk through the encampment back to their campsite. There were children everywhere, running, laughing, playing games, teasing each other and being free. The weather was warm and there was plenty of food. Young ones stopping at a fire were offered a snack. Children were the future of the tribe and valued as such.
They arrived at their family’s campsite, and he sat near the fire. The woman went to help with the preparation of the meal. Her family had set fish traps and had luck. The fish had been gutted, seasoned, and covered in clay. They would be baked in the coals of the fire. There were also tubers, steamed greens, and, because it was a special occasion, dried dates. It would be a good meal. As they waited for the food to cook a woman of middle age came walking toward them. She had a bearing of one in authority and carried a carved staff. The carvings were of various animals. Her clothing was decorated with beads and designs drawn in charcoal and red and yellow ocher. She wore a headdress made from a deer skull with the antlers attached. She was an imposing figure.


The old man carried into the gathering on a backpack frame, holding his dignity. Beautiful storytelling, Fred.
Thank you. I liked that part as well.