In The Beginning

  Chapter Thirty One

  I did not hesitate after the Northern tribe’s leader, Aron, accepted my ultimatum and agreed to join his tribe with mine. We immediately sat down, right where we had been standing, and I began to tell him how I would integrate the two tribes into one.

  Catto and my other two men joined us, along with three more men that Aron had brought. These additional men were included only to act as witnesses to what occurred. Almost all the talking was done by me and Aron, with Catto and Gadu only occasionally joining in with a comment. We had to converse in the old language, and although it did not have all the words I needed to fully describe my plans, we were able to communicate enough to get by.

  I was surprised by the difficulty my men had following the conversation in the old language. They had not spoken it at all in several years, and they struggled to understand everything Aron said. Teaching the newcomers our language might be one of the more difficult aspects of their integration into the tribe, since our adults didn't use the old language anymore and the children had never learned to speak it.

  I told the northern men, “I would like Gadu to return with us to our village. Soon I will take a group of workers to where we will build the new city and Gadu will see where this is. From there I will send Gadu back to your village. He should return back to the site and bring with him all the men and women from your village that can work and build the city. He should bring all the people that are not required in your village to hunt or care for the elders and children.”

  I gave them no additional details about my plans for the city or the number of people involved. I had not yet developed trust in them, or more specifically, Aron. Though I could see Aron was wise, I also saw a crafty look in his eyes. A plan to steal women from another tribe was a daring move, but also a despicable one, and it indicated a mind that was not honorable and a person who was willing to deceive.

  Aron agreed, “I think it is good that Gadu go with you to your village. While he is gone I will decide who goes with him to work and who stays at our village while you build this city.”

  I wanted to make sure Aron understood the length of time the people would be gone from his village. “Building the city, starting the crops, and getting everything ready to move will take many days. It might take two hands of moons altogether before we can live in the new city.”

  While he knew about the changing of the moon, he had never attached a specific length of time to it. I struggled to make him understand the number of days involved in building the city and starting all the crops required to feed the people that would live there.

  “We will need to prepare the fields and then plant the crops and move our orchards. For all of my village and your village to live there, the fields need to be producing when we move. If there is no food to eat, we can’t go. We also need to have the houses built, a bridge over the river, and pens for the animals. There is much work to do to prepare for two villages to move into one city.”

  Though I believe the Northerners understood almost nothing of what I spoke, at my mention of the food we grew Aron’s eyes lit up greedily. “Yes, the men told me of all the food you have, which they say was very good. They also said you keep many animals in the village so you can eat them whenever you want. So your men do not need to hunt?”

  “Yes, we still hunt. But we have learned to grow much of our food in the fields; we raise pigs and other animals for meat, and we eat fish from the waters. We do not need to hunt so much anymore. There is other work to do; taking care of all the fields and animals, and other jobs such as making tools and working with wood.”

  “Growing food does not sound like work for a man! A man should be on the hunt; getting meat for the village while the woman works in the fields,” Aron stated with disdain in his voice.

  I looked at him evenly. The idea that farming was not fit work for a man would need to be squashed right now. If his people joined us with that mindset it would cause great discord and ruin everything I was working for. My answer was directed to Aron, but I also wanted to make my point clear to his men.

  “Growing and eating our food has made us bigger and stronger than you. We killed almost every man you sent to our village with ease.” I paused here, looking each man in the eye. “With ease,” I repeated. “Raising crops is hard work and women can do it, but it is not woman's work. There is much to be done by both men and women which you do not know of. Some men hunt, but most men are needed to care for the livestock and raise the crops that give us most of our food.”

  I paused again, and then spoke distinctly so there was no question about what I said. “Understand this. Our two tribes will become one tribe and I will be the only leader of the tribe. Your people will be treated exactly the same as the people from my village. We will all get the same food and homes to live in, and we will all be expected to work and provide for the new tribe.”

  Looking closely at Aron I continued, “I have leaders under me, both men and women, which are responsible for the people that hunt and farm and build things. These leaders and all the people, whether from your village or mine, will answer only to me. Is this understood?”

  Aron took a long time to reply, and instead of answering my question he asked, “What if one of my men should want only to hunt, and not work in the fields?”

  “There are many jobs in the village, from taking care of the fields and the animals to making tools, building houses and hunting. The people of your tribe will be taught to do all of these things. They will have their choice of work, but usually they will do different jobs at different times of the year, depending on the needs of the tribe. If he is a good hunter and we need him to hunt, he will be able to hunt for the tribe.”

  “And what if he only wants to hunt and he refuses to do these other jobs?”

  “If a person will not work for the tribe, they do not belong in the tribe,” I said carefully.

  I was pretty sure I knew the next question that would be asked. Though none in my village had ever refused to accept new responsibilities, I had anticipated it could be a problem as new people were added to our tribe. Though the newcomers would want our food and the easier life we offered, they would want it on their own terms. I expected there might be significant resistance to completely changing their way of life, and this could be the greatest challenge to my leadership; how to get newcomers to change and do what I wanted for the tribe without having to use force or become a tyrant.

  I had already considered my limited options. I could expel a dissenter from the tribe, but this opened up the possibility of additional problems such as others trying to follow the dissenter to create a new village, or the expelled person becoming an outlaw for food.

  My goal was to join everyone together as one tribe under me, not force people out as loners or into smaller tribes, so I had dismissed expelling people from the tribe as a way of controlling them. I also dismissed killing or injuring anyone to force people to conform. This was extreme and should not be necessary to enforce my rule. What I chose was the only serious punishment I knew of which could insure that people would do what I wanted.

  There were only two ways to influence these tribal people, social pressure and food. To control the people’s behavior I needed to control the source of their food, and also the treatment a person received from the tribe if they refused to do what I required.

  “So if they refuse to do the work you ask and want only to hunt, what will you do?” asked Aron, looking at me intently from under his bushy brows.

  “I will make them pariah,” I stated, slowly and clearly. Pariah was a word he knew. It meant that someone was excluded from fellowship with the tribe and was allowed only enough food to survive. As pariah they were not expelled from the village, but they were not spoken to and they could not eat with the tribe. Making someone pariah was done to show tribal disappointment and disgust with an action, and the weight of shame it carried was very difficult to bear in a tribal culture. The status of pariah could only be conv
eyed and rescinded by the elders of a tribe, or in my tribe, by me.

  No one had been named pariah since I had been with the tribe. I only heard of the word and its meaning the previous year, when one of the tribe’s hunters, Lakta, had struck his wife in a fit of anger and she had told another woman of this outrage. When Kalou found out she came to me and told me of the option to make him pariah. I called him before me, but when he told me of his sorrow I decided against making him pariah. Instead he had gone before the tribe and begged his wife's forgiveness, promising never to harm her again. She had accepted his sorrow and repentance, and he had been forgiven.

  I think perhaps Aron had expected my response, as he showed little surprise at my statement. “Pariah for wanting only to hunt?”

  “No, pariah for not doing what I tell them to do. Only I decide what is best for the tribe, and if I think someone should not hunt, they do not hunt.”

  I actually did not control the tribe to this extreme, nor did I want to. The leaders that answered to me, Catto, Cadune, and my wife Kalou among them, were directly in charge of hunting, farming, and making sure all the work was done correctly in the village. But I needed to make these men clearly understand that I was in charge, and if they went against my wishes there were consequences.

  I was weary of this conversation and I wanted a commitment from Aron.

  “If you and your tribe cannot accept what I say, tell me now and I will leave.” I looked at Aron intently and continued, “But understand, I cannot trust your tribe to exist separate from my tribe. If you do not join us, I will return with my men and our weapons. We will do battle and we will utterly defeat you. It will be as if your tribe never walked upon the earth. Your only options are to join us and become one tribe or die. You told me earlier you would join our tribe. Now that you have more knowledge of what is required, is this still your decision?”

  Aron nodded slowly, “Yes, we want to be one tribe, but it will be difficult to change so much.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, “it will be difficult. But in the end your tribe will be better; stronger and happier with full bellies and healthy children. That is what is important, to make the tribe better.”

  Aron searched my face intently, examining it for signs of falsehood. In my carefully masked eyes he saw nothing that caused him to doubt me, but neither did he see anything that set him at ease. “Yes, that is what is important,” he finally said.