Chapter 6

  The sun was just disappearing behind the Circle Cliffs when Akhim decided it was time to head for home. He checked the garden where he’d been working one last time for anything wrong. It wouldn’t do to lose their crops this early in the growing season because of his stupidity. The carrots and beets had just sprouted and in another week or so the squash and corn should appear.

  Many winters ago and in another canyon far away his people, the Tribe, had been starving. The seeds they’d planted in the old canyon hadn’t been growing well and the stream was drying up. Even the herd of animals they’d worked so hard to catch and tame had almost disappeared down the gullets of predators. Only thirty beasts had remained out of almost one hundred. All of which meant they were facing a very hard winter. Then one day a hunter had returned from the hunt with no meat and a tale of finding a valley of wonders. His excited proposal was that the Tribe move to the new valley.

  At first it’d been unthinkable for the Tribe to even consider leaving their home with the growing season coming to an end. But the hunter’s tale was so appealing and their crops so poor that the Elders had decided to leave anyway.

  The journey from the old canyon to their new home had been hard and took weeks. During the trek most of the very old and very young had died from exposure, malnutrition, falling off cliffs or down mountainsides, or were eaten by predators. Even with hunters staying awake at night as guards people or herd animals would disappear into the darkness. Then came the joyous day when the Tribe reached the slot canyon leading to Circle Cliff Valley.

  Although they were exhausted and it was mid-day there had been no hesitation from the people of the Tribe. Everyone but the herdsmen had moved through the canyon entrance and went on to the valley to begin their settlement. Those who remained behind kept the herd animals safe and waited one day to let the Tribe reach their new home and clear the canyon. Then they’d moved the animals towards the entrance of the slot canyon.

  At first the animals were fearful of entering the narrow canyon but the poking of sharp sticks, thrown rocks and shouts of the herdsmen drove them in. According to the man who’d found the valley there were no side canyons so all the herdsmen remained in the rear to keep the animals moving. The going was relatively easy for the herd, even going up the few rock waterfalls they came across, until they reached the end of the canyon.

  None of the animals would even try to clamber up the final slope. They’d milled around bawling in confusion. Even with the vigorous prodding with sticks none of the animals would even start up that slope. One or two attempted to turn around and bolt back down the canyon but men blocked their way, yelling at the top of their voices and waving their arms to force them back to the main herd.

  At last, the herdsmen had stopped trying to force the animals to climb the slope and came up with another idea. With the help of the rest of the Tribe the herdsmen covered the heads of each animal with a leather bag then several men pushed the beast up the slope. Even with the depleted herd it’d taken well into the night to get all the animals into the new valley.

  In a way having to go to all that effort and trouble was good. It meant their herd wouldn’t wander back down the narrow canyon and escape. But the herdsmen hadn’t wanted to chance it and blocked the canyon slot anyway.

  Once in the new valley the Tribe found that the discoverers description hadn’t covered all the wonders to be found. Over the next few weeks the Tribe had wandered around the valley exploring its beauty. They’d learned how to make huts of grass and wood to keep the snow, rain and winds out. There was plenty of wood from the surrounding forest to feed the fires for cooking and warmth. But the hardships the Tribe had to endure weren’t over. The winter was coming and their food supply was meager.

  When their first winter in the valley had ended more of the Tribe had died. Even the hardiest and strongest of the hunters were thin and sickly. But the Tribe had survived.

  As soon as the ground thawed in the spring the surviving Elder had the Planters working the soil. The seeds they’d planted grew faster and provided more food than the Elders could remember. Later that summer they also learned how to take the seeds from the long grass found in the valley to make bread. The herd grew fat on the feed from the valley and gave more milk than ever before. But the herd was so small that only calves and the newborns of the Tribe were given milk. When the summer ended the Tribe’d prospered and stored enough food to carry them through the next winter.

  The Tribe had gained more than food from Circle Valley. They’d discovered some mud which could be shaped and baked in hot fires making vessels to store water and food. There was another plant that grew at the foot of the cliffs that had long fibers. The fibers could be woven together to make cloth. But there was more. Those same fibers could also produce soothing tones when stretched tight between sticks and plucked.

  Akhim shook himself and brought his thoughts back to the present. Life had become much easier over the ten winters they’d been in Circle Valley proving the decision to leave the old canyon was right. He gave a contented sigh and turned to leave the garden. A cool breeze rustled his long brown hair that was pulled back and tied into a pony tail. He adjusted his cloth tunic to keep the wind out and increased his pace. His wife and children waited with supper.

  At the edge of the village he paused long enough to stretch tired muscles then looked down the valley for his favorite view of the day. In panorama view were the sunlit cliffs giving way to the forest below that lay in shadow. A smile started too grown on his face then froze when he saw what was coming out of the trees. Akhim shook his head and looked again.

  Breaking into a run, he raced through the village, ignoring people who called out to him. Akhim came to his hut and rapped on the outer wood frame. “Mik!” he called to his wife still breathing hard. “There are… people coming!”

  “What? Who’s coming? Why would they come here?” called Mik from inside the hut. “They have as much food as we have, a hut just as strong.”

  “No Mik,” he replied catching his breath. “These people aren’t our people. They’re different, not from the Tribe.”

  Mik poked her head through the huts doorway, brushing aside the long cloth hung there for privacy. “People not of the Tribe?” she asked in awe.

  Akhim’s oldest son only three winters old dashed through the doorway and latched onto his father’s knees. “Me see! Me see!” Aktil clamored as he looked up at his father. He was clad like his father in a cloth tunic and shoes.

  Mik and Akhim gave a little chuckle and smiled at each other. This son was full of delights. “Come with me then, little Til,” said Akhim. He picked up his son and set him on his shoulders where he couldn’t get away. “We’ll go see the new people.”

  “Me see! Me see!” squealed the child once more and grabbed his father’s hair.

  The parents laughed again. “Til and I will greet the new people and take them to the Council Hut,” Akhim announced. “Mik, you and our daughters, take food there. These people might be hungry. You’d better tell the Elders as well. They’ll want to meet these people.”

  Mik nodded and ducked inside. Almost immediately after the door cloth erupted and his oldest daughter raced off to tell the Elders. She was almost ten and it appeared she’d been eavesdropping on her parent’s conversation.

  Akhim gave another chuckle as he watched the long blonde hair lashing back and forth behind his daughter as she ran through the village. Then resettling his young son on his shoulders, he removed the small hands from his hair and took the trail to meet the new people.

  The first meeting between the Clan and the Tribe took place in the meadows of Circle Cliff Valley as stars began to appear in the sky. One unarmed man with a small child on his shoulders approached an armed hunting party of five men.

  It was apparent to the hunters of the Clan that the approaching person presented no danger. No father would put his young son in jeopardy. In turn Akhim felt no threat as the hunting party ke
pt their weapons hanging on their leather thongs or were pointed at the ground. For everyone involved it was inconceivable that people would want to hurt each other. There were far too many dangers and people were too valuable to waste by fighting each other.

  When the two groups of people came to within a mans length of each other they stopped and stared at each other trying to decide what to do next. Only the sound of crickets and the breeze moving through the long grass was heard. Then Aktil squirmed and squealed until Akhim had to take him off his shoulders and put him on the ground. That very action broke the stillness. The new men turned to talk among themselves and Akhim leaned forward to listen. But the instant his father’s attention was back on the strangers Aktil broke away and wrapped his arms around the lead stranger’s knees.

  “Aktil!” exclaimed Akhim in horror and pointed at the ground by his side. “Get back here right now!”

  The stranger smiled at Akhim. He handed his spears to a companion then bent to pick up the child. Aktil didn’t seem to mind being held by the stranger. He just wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and just melted into the stranger’s chest. The man grinned through a scraggly beard, gave the child a quick hug then handed the boy back to his father.

  “Thank you,” said Akhim, taking his son and smiling back. “He’s young and has much to learn.”

  The stranger seemed to understand, shrugged and replied but the words were unrecognizable to Akhim. He tried several more times then gave up with another shrug when it became apparent they couldn’t understand each other.

  “Shards!” cursed Akhim, ignoring his sons shocked look at his father’s tone of voice. “Why can’t we understand each other?”

  Little Til pointed back over his fathers shoulder towards the village. “’ome.”

  “In a while, son,” Akhim said, “we’ve got something we have to do first. We have to take care of the new people.”

  “’ome,” squealed Aktil again and began to rock back and forth in his fathers arms to emphasize his desire.

  “Ok Til!” said Akhim and gave his son a quick hug. “We’ll take the strangers back to the village.” Then he set the boy back on the ground. Still holding Til’s hand so he couldn’t run off Akhim used gestures to indicate to the strangers for them to follow.

  Akhim had been able to learn the names of the people from the Clan by the time they reached the village. It was apparent that Mik and their daughters had succeeded in passing the word of the new people’s arrival. Villagers lined the path to the Council Hut and stared at the strange men in their midst. As the small group passed through the cluster of huts people followed to see what was going to happen. Some of the braver members of the Tribe reached out to feel the furs worn by the hunting party. Leading the way through the village Akhim overheard muttered questions about how these new people got hides with the fur intact. At first he was concerned that his guests would feel threatened by all the attention but it appeared the men were just as puzzled about the cloth the Tribe used.

  At the Council Hut Akhim and the men from the Clan had to push through the crowd to reach the entrance. Although the hut was the largest structure in the village it hadn’t been built to house everyone in the Tribe which meant that many had to peer in through the entrance and the few windows. There was a fire in the middle of the single large room to help provide light and take the chill out of the air. Smoke rose from the flames to escape through a hole cut in the middle of the roof.

  Akhim led the men from the Clan into the center of the hut and stopped next to the fire. He bobbed his respects to the Elders who sat at the other end of the hut as Kok moved up next to him. The rest of Kok’s family made a rough arc behind the two men. Stepping off to one side so the Elders could see who was being introduced Akhim announced who his guests were. Each man bobbed his shaggy head when his name was given. The Elders did the same as Akhim gave their names.

  When Akhim finished relating how he discovered and met the new people he stepped back. The Eldest nodded his approval of the report. With a wave of a wrinkled, gnarled hand two younger men rushed forward to help the old man to his feet. They hovered close by as he hobbled around the fire to stare at the strangers. Kok and his family remained silent as the Elder fingered their hides and weapons.

  Another attempt was made to communicate but it soon became obvious that the two parties didn’t understand each other. At last they discovered that pantomime was the only way that worked reasonably well. But no one was very adept which made the process of getting and giving information tedious. By this time the moon had appeared above the cliffs and bathed the valley in a pale light. A cool breeze swept over the village and rippled the waters of the central lake. Bored, cold and tired most of those outside left for the comfort and warmth of their own huts.

  When the fire in the center of the floor burned low and it was close to midnight the Elders struggled to their feet. “Akhim!” called Merkin, the Eldest of the Elders. Akhim, who’d risen when the Elders did, gave an acknowledging nod. “Akhim,” Merkin repeated, “go through the village and collect blankets and more food for our guests. Put wood on the fire. Our friends of the Clan can sleep here in the Council Hut.”

  The next few days went by in a whirlwind. Akhim, as the finder of the men from the Clan, was appointed their guardian and guide by the Elders. He took his charges on a tour of the village, the garden and the herd. They were also shown the looms that wove the Tribes clothing. In return Kok and his brothers showed their skill in fashioning stone-tipped spears and hatchets. They also tried to explain how to skin hides from animals and cure them to make blankets and coats.

  At last the day came for Kok and his family to return home. They’d been gone for so long they knew their families would be worried. Their original mission to find a missing hunter had been forgotten in the excitement of discovering a new people. They wouldn’t return with Mrek but they’d go with news of the Tribe.

  On the morning Kok and his family was to set out for home they met on the commons outside the Council Hut. The entire tribe was standing in a crowd chattering with excitement with a small space left around the men of the Clan. Squealing children were chasing each other, dodging around the legs of adults. Their parents called, trying in vain, to get them to stop. At last Merkin shuffled forward to stand in front of Kok and held up a wrinkled hand. Moments later the volume of shouting, talking and giggles dropped enough to let the Elder speak

  “My people,” croaked Merkin, “we have experienced a momentous time. Because men from the Clan have found us we know we are not alone.” A cheer from the crowd interrupted Merkin’s speech for a moment. At a gesture from the Elder several people moved out of the crowd carrying bundles of cloth and pots. A slight breeze ruffled through the hair of the crowd and moved their clothing.

  “As you go you will bear gifts from the Tribe to the Clan,” announced Merkin. “You take pots containing seeds and bulbs for food plants. There are also bundles of cloth for your use.” The bundles and pots were handed to Makok, Kekko and Kaf.

  Although he didn’t understand everything that’d been said Kok got the gist of the Elders message and he’d come prepared. Even though he knew the Tribe wouldn’t understand all his words he stepped forward. “Thank you Elder Merkin,” replied Kok in a loud ringing voice. “Your gifts are much appreciated and, I’m sure, will create quite a sensation at home. In return for your hospitality we have these for the Tribe.” He nodded to Jakto and his brother moved forward to hand a bundle of hides, spears and hatchets to Akhim. “May the Tribe always prosper,” concluded Kok.

  The return of the hunting party at Home Canyon did create quite a stir. People had stared then cheered when Kok and his brothers appeared. They’d been gone so long people had begun to think they were dead. When everyone had gathered in Home Cave Kok began to tell what they’d found. The Elders of the Clan had never heard of any other people and were skeptical as the hunters told their story. But when Kok had his brother’s display the pots and cloth the
y’d brought with them the Elders were astounded. Then Kok opened a pot and displayed the seeds within. The Clan listened in silence as Kok explained how the seeds and bulbs were used to produce more food.

  Although the Clan tried to plant the seeds and make pots and weave cloth their initial efforts failed. The ground in their canyon wasn’t suitable for growing or right for making pots. In Circle Cliff village the Tribes attempts to chip spear points and axe heads also failed. They couldn’t locate the right rocks that would chip properly. Out of necessity trade sprang up between the two peoples and a trading language developed.

 
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