The Hunters
The ice was eternal: it had been since the time of the beginning; it had been since before there were stories; it was in every story; it was
every story. The ice was infinite: many had travelled onto the ice to see its extent; none had returned. Those travelling along the face of the ice could travel for many days in either direction; they saw no end to it. The ice was strong: where there was ice, there was no land. But there was water. There was a special kinship between the ice and the water. Water and ice lived together in harmony; the water flowing off the ice to cover the land; bits of the ice cracking off with a great noise to journey where the Spirits willed upon the water. But to the land, the water was neither a friend nor an enemy. The land had his domain and he stayed there; the water had his. In between, in the disputed places, were the bogs and the muck, where both the land and the water held an uneasy peace. And over all was the sky: the sky was as much as all the rest together, and generally well disposed, or at least indifferent, towards all things. And so, every spring, the People would journey to this place of magic, where the Spirits of the ice, the land, the water and the sky all met and shared their bounty with us for a time.
But there was no love between the ice and the land. The two were in constant battle, done at the eternal pace of Spirits. Sometimes, the land would be strong. Then the journey to the spring hunting place would take longer, and be much further away from the wintering place; perhaps as much as two turnings of the moon. These were bad times: the People would arrive too late and the great tusked ones would already have left for their summer home with the setting sun. When this happened, the caches from the previous hunt would be in the care of the land, who was only concerned with this year's hunt, and not last year's. So he would have forgotten that he was protecting the caches of the People; they would be hard to find and it would make you sick to eat from them if you found one. Then the People would have to hunt the lesser animals just to survive; there would be little to take back home and nothing of value to trade.
But sometimes the ice would be strong. Then the journey to his home at the base of the vast ice mountain took less time; perhaps only one turning of the moon. Then the People would have to wait until the giants came, but the caches would be easy to find by the cairns upon the low-lying ice. The ice was not forgetful, and the cache would be good to eat and would make you strong. And so there would be plenty and the time of waiting would be filled with happiness. Most of the People saw this back and forth between the two great Spirits as an endless struggle being waged over eternity. But the Old One knew better. He had seen the battle being waged for a very long time, and over a very great journey. And it seemed to him that the Spirit of the land was winning more than he was losing.
The Old One's face was illuminated by dancing shadows. The wind had confused the fire momentarily; a little shower of sparks became alive briefly and shot forth bursts of orange and yellow light. But only the face of the Old One was illuminated by that light; perhaps he was simply the closest to it. Or perhaps he had somehow caused the sparks in order to capture everyone's attention. The hunters sensed there was a story coming to the surface of the deep waters that were the Old One's thoughts. All became still and quiet, as even the creatures of the dark and the very wind itself paused in their various errands to listen to what the Old One would say.
“I was not always so old. When I was young… younger even than you… “, he began, and he reached over to touch me on my forehead. I was filled with honour as he continued: “…when I was yet too young to hunt the mighty animals, such as the tusked ones, or the antlered ones… my people lived far from here, in the place where the sun begins his journey every day. In the summer we camped at the edge of the land, beside the water in the home of the morning sun, and we were blessed with much bounty. But the Spirit of the water there had decided that the water would not be fit to drink, so as to keep my people to the land. The water was bitter; drinking from it made you thirsty, such was the magic of it. But the ice mountain was very near, and there were many streams flowing down from the face of the ice, and the water that had been in the home of the ice Spirit was very good indeed."
“You lived near the ice mountain as well, Father?” I asked, incredulously. It was known that the Old One had come to us from a great journey, as far as one could go towards the rising sun. Surely it could not have been the same ice mountain. My real father frowned at me. He was shocked and disappointed in me for having interrupted the Old One. But the Old One smiled at me with his toothless grin, and that satisfied everyone that I had not caused insult. Then he answered.
“A day's journey would bring us to the ice mountain. This very ice mountain." he said, indicating the immensity of ice off in the distance that was a ghostly white in the moonlight. "But it was another part of the mountain, very far from here. Still, it had many of the same creatures who live about the face of the mountain here; mighty ones. So we were blessed with bounty on three sides. And two moons' journey away from the ice mountain brought us to the summer dwelling of a strange people who wintered in a land that was always warm, and they did not know the Spirit of the ice and did not hunt the tusked ones. But they valued their tusks greatly. And they hunted mostly fish, and so they greatly desired the meat of mightier animals. And so we traded with them, tusks and meat, and got from them the treasures of their land: fruits, and other good things; but more importantly, wood and bark from the strong trees of their land which they showed us how to turn into very fine boats, such as we had not seen before.
“For in those days and in that place the trees were very weak and very small, and until we happened upon the strange ones we had not the means for making boats, and travelling to the spring hunt took a very long time. And we could not hunt upon the water. But with the boats from the strange ones we were able to get to the spring hunt very quickly, and bring back much more of the bounty from that hunt. But also we could journey far out into the great water and take from its bounty. There were those who said that we should not venture out onto the home of the Spirit of the water; that he had plainly made his water bitter to warn us to stay on the land. But others disagreed, and there was great abundance in the Spirit's home. So the hunters would go out onto the water and catch many fish, mostly the smaller ones, but sometimes the larger ones. And some of the hunters lost, when they battled with the larger fish, and remained in the home of the Spirit of the great water, as is fair in such matters.
“I was too small to go out on the water, and so I wandered along the shore getting the good things to be found there, where the land and the water became one. There were shells that contained small creatures that were very good to eat, similar to the ones you know of here, and I would always come back with many skins full of them. Also there were birds in abundance, and their eggs. And so, we had the bounty of the ice, the land, the water, and the sky; and we were content.”
The fire had begun to burn low. A hunter pushed one of the dead tree limbs further into the fire and it caught immediately, bringing life to the fire. Life from death, everyone observed. This was the way of things.
“But if you were content, then why did you journey here, Father?” I asked. This time there was no reaction from the hunters around the fire at my impertinence. I did not know it at the time, but I was becoming Old in everyone's eyes.
The Old One smiled gently. But the smile soon faded as a pained memory played through his mind.
“We were a foolish people. We hunted the mighty creatures of the ice mountain; but we always honoured their spirits and asked their permission before the hunt. As is only right. As we have done since the beginning. We also hunted the lesser creatures away from the ice mountain; but we always honoured their spirits as well and asked their permission too. In this way we did not cause the Spirit of the land or the Spirit of the ice to become angry with us and we thrived. But when we started hunting in the home of the Spirit of the great water this was a new thing; we were unaware of what was required, and how to show proper respect. And so, out of ignorance, we were disrespectful. And the Spirit of the great water became very angry. After a winter in our wintering grounds, we returned to the summer hunting grounds, in a number of boats. But our camp was gone; it was entirely under water. The Spirit of the great water, in his anger at the disrespect shown him in our previous hunt, had grown mighty and had covered all of the land that we knew with so much water that we now had to camp a day's paddle into what had been land the previous summer, right at the base of the ice mountain, which the great water now splashed against in places.
“But his anger was not finished. He caused many new strange creatures to inhabit his home. There were mighty fish; longer than four spears laid end to end, that blew steam from their heads. And when we hunted these mighty fish, sometimes the Spirit of the water caused them to hunt us as well, and many of us were lost to the Spirit's anger. And so we seldom ventured out onto the water until we could decide how to make peace with its Spirit.
“And this continued for a turning of the moon. We hunted from the land and the ice, but only occasionally from the water. We thought the anger of the water would fade away. But we were wrong.
“The Spirit caused a great fish to be created; it was longer than any of our boats and mightier than any of our hunters. It had the face of a spotted one and the neck of a serpent. It had a very long tail with ridges upon its back as of a huge turtle. In place of fins it had webbed feet in the manner of a playful one. Though it did not play in the rivers. The Spirit of the water was in this beast: and its anger. This was a beast of the dark and still; a beast of the deep. If you approached this beast it would strike at the boat in the manner of a serpent, and by thrashing its tail it could cause the peaceful water to become angry and one of our boats was nearly lost in this manner.
“There was a very high hill nearby the camp, and I would often climb to the top to look for creatures to hunt, both on land and also out in the water, for those who would dare to hunt there. From this height I could sometimes see the water beast as it pursued fish up from the depths and it would cause a great splash in the deep waters away from our camp. No one would venture out on the water when the beast was about, and it then became one of my duties to climb the hill every day and look for it. Eventually there came the time when the water beast had not been seen for many days, and it was felt that the Spirit's anger was satisfied. So some hunters went out hunting on the water. They did not return that day, and there was a light rain that meant we could not look for them from the hill. Later, as we gathered around the fire, their boat drifted in with the evening breeze. The boat was not damaged in any way. But all of the hunters were gone. This caused great fear in us, and much time was spent deciding how to make peace with the Spirit so that we could continue to hunt on the water.”
“Didn't your Old One know what to do?” I asked. The Old One studied my young face. He seemed to be searching my mind. For what, I didn't know at the time. But this is the manner of Old Ones; they search, and eventually they find what it is they require. In someone young.
The old one returned from his thoughts and continued. “Our Old One had started his final journey during the winter, and was even then finding the best hunting places for those who would follow him into the next realm. We did not have his wisdom to guide us. So we stayed on the land, and did not venture out onto the water. But the hunting on the ice and on the land was good. And once again, we were content.”
“So you stayed away from the water, and the water Spirit's anger faded.” I said, knowing it was likely not true.
“We stayed away from the water, yes. But the anger of the Spirit of the water did not fade. It grew stronger. We were not causing any further insult to him but we still had not determined the proper manner of showing respect and apology for our previous hurt. And so he caused his beast, the spotted one of the water, to climb out onto the land one night, while we were all sitting around the campfire, even as we are now. And he attacked us from a direction we were not guarding.”
Somewhere off in the distance, a great toothed one roared its defiance to the night. None of the hunters showed any reaction, even though they were all greatly afraid of the Old One's story; to show any fear or surprise would bring much dishonour. But one of the hunters managed to glance quickly in the direction of the water, a direction that was not being guarded, and only I noticed. This was a mighty hunter; he was draped in the skin of a toothed one, and he swelled with pride as the sound of the roar echoed off the ice mountain. This was a sign to him; he would have success in tomorrow's hunt, and be reckoned even mightier by all. I shivered at the sound, even though I should have been warm enough so close to the fire.
“But surely a fish, even a mighty fish, cannot climb out of the water?” I asked. I had never seen such a thing.
“The beast lumbered, in the manner of things of the water who are on the land; as a turtle might. A hunter could easily outrun the beast on land; and that is what we did. No one was willing to throw a weapon at the beast so as not to further anger the Spirit, and the beast was not afraid of the spirits living in the flames, being of the water, where the fire has no dominion. So it lumbered and crashed and caused much destruction to our camp and to our boats. And then with a mighty splash it was gone, back to the deeps in which it lived. And so, we thought the anger of the Spirit of the great water had been appeased.
“We spent the rest of that summer hunting, and the hunting was very good. There were many more tusked ones in those days, and they did not follow the sun early in the spring as they do now. There were many antlered ones; also there were many of the great creatures who build dams, and many more of the lesser animals. We also spent the summer repairing our boats; none of the hunters wished to hunt on the water and offend its Spirit, but the summer hunt would be over one day and then we would need the boats to return to the wintering grounds.
“And so, in the course of such things, the summer hunt was over. We had thanked the Spirits of the ice and land and the sky and given them gifts from the good things they had given us. We had prepared caches of food and left them in the care of the ice until the beginning of the next hunt. And we had loaded up our boats full of the bounty of our hunt for the journey back to the wintering place. We had one more night; one more fire, such as this one.”
I pulled the animal skin I had over my shoulders. The night seemed even colder now, in spite of the fire. The Old One continued:
“In the morning, to the songs of the flying ones, we pushed off into the great water and headed away from the ice mountain towards the trail that would take us to the wintering grounds. We were careful to always stay close to the land so it could protect us from the water, in case some of the anger was still burning in the mind of the water Spirit. But for a few days we had a pleasant journey.
“Then, when the sun was highest on the fifth day, we came to a place where the water went a very long way into the land, but it was narrow enough that you could see where it came back out. And so, we could either spend a day travelling inland, and then a day travelling back out, and in doing so keep the land always beside us, or we could simply paddle our boats across the deeper water to the far shore and be at the wintering grounds two days sooner. This is what we had done on the journey to the ice; and this is what we decided to do now on our return journey.
“It seemed to be a wise course of action until we were about half way across, in the deepest part of the water. Suddenly the Spirit of the great water awoke, and remembered his anger against us. He caused his mighty beast, the spotted one of the water, to come to the surface in the very midst of all of our boats. At first, he seemed to be playing, as if he were a playful one, rolling around in the water, and diving, and then surfacing again in another spot. There was much fear, and the hunters all paddled as fast as they possibly could, while some hunters started singing songs that were known to be soothing to the spirits of the ice and the land. But the beast, who seemed much smaller than he had been when he destroyed our camp, continued to play in amongst our boats.
“And then a hunter brought much dishonour to himself and our hunting party. He thought he could scare off the beast, or perhaps even kill it, now that it was not very large at all, not even as large as one of our boats. So he hefted his spear and threw it into the neck of the beast, the neck that was in manner like a serpent. The beast bellowed and sank beneath the waves, leaving a large amount of blood between the boats.
“There was a moment of confusion. The rest of the hunters could not believe what had happened. Some started to utter words of contrition to the Spirit of the water for what was surely a horrible insult. Some gave offerings from the summer hunt. But none of it was to any avail. The offerings of good things from the land had no effect on the water. And no words could make up for the insult given to the Spirit of the water by the foolish hunter. So the Spirit of the water caused another beast, a much larger beast, to come up from the depths in the very spot where the patch of blood from the previous beast was still a witness to the insult given the Spirit. This beast bellowed as did the previous one, but the bellow of this beast was the bellow of anger and not of despair.
“The foolish hunter who had given the insult stood up in his boat and raised his arms, and tried to placate the Spirit of the water with yet more words. But his apology was not accepted. The beast shot its spotted head at him very much like a serpent would and plucked the hunter out of the boat, dragging him down to explain his actions to the Spirit of the water in person.
“All of the other hunters were very much afraid, and started paddling as if they were beasts themselves towards the nearing shore. Some paddles snapped in the effort. But it was no use. The beast was back.
“One by one, the enormous head shot out at a hunter, who was then dragged down into the home of the Spirit and never seen again. There was much noise and confusion. I laid down in the bottom of the boat I was in and hid my face from the wrath of the Spirit and his beast. The cries and the screaming continued, as well as the horrible splashes that meant another hunter had passed into the next realm.
“And then, after a period of time, the noises all stopped. All that I could hear was a gentle sloshing noise, like the gentlest of waves on the beach. So I uncovered my eyes and dared to look around. I was alone. But not totally alone; there was the beast. It was looking at me from only an arm's distance, so that I could see the anger in its eyes and smell the slick oiliness of its skin. It stared at me and then, perhaps because I was yet too young to have caused any offence, it seemed satisfied with the price it had exacted for the insult given its master, and it slid beneath the waters and let me go on my way.
“When I was quite sure the beast was not coming back, I had to catch all of the boats, which had started to drift in the wind and the currents. There were five boats in all, and all of them contained the riches of our summer hunt. They used also to contain the hunters who had collected the riches; not any longer. After much effort and time I managed to capture all of the boats and tie them together with sinew into a long line which looked something like the beast; I was hoping that this would honour the beast and placate his spirit.
“The paddle to the far shore took a very long time. I was fortunate in three things: one is that there was very little wind and no waves. Another is that the moon was half way between turns and as bright as a fire in the sky. And a third thing was that the beast and the Spirit of the great water continued to bear me no ill will.
“And so, very late at night, I managed to get all of the boats onto the beach on the far shore and make camp for the night, as I was very tired. The beast had taken all of the hunters, but left everything else, including the stones from the strange ones that had the magic of fire in them. So I was able to make a fire to sleep by to keep those who hunt by night away from me and the boats while I slept.
“The next day the Spirit of the sky was angry. Perhaps he had just heard of the insult done his brother, the water. He caused a mighty storm to arise. I was afraid that the Spirit of the water would be angry as well, so I looked out into the water that I had paddled across at night. There I saw the beast watching me. He was splashing his great tail on the water and by so doing was making large waves that were even now threatening to take the boats back out into the water, as I was much too little to drag them all of the way onto the beach. The beast seemed to need the boats too in order for his spirit to be placated, to ensure that I did not venture back out onto the water and cause further insult. So I yelled at him over the storm that I understood, and that he could certainly have the boats, which were of the water, but I asked him if I could possibly have the provisions within them, as they were of the land. The beast slipped beneath the waves in answer. So I very quickly got all of the provisions that I could lift out of the boats and took them very far up onto the land.
“The storm worsened, and as I expected, the boats were taken by the beast. I had a large store of food that was safe for the moment at the edge of the forest, but I had no shelter and it was too stormy to make a fire. And night was coming. So I took all of the things that would not interest a night hunter very far from the food and there constructed a temporary structure out of sticks and hide and placed all of the spears and various magic stones there to keep them safe. Then I went back to the stores of food and placed what I could as high as the stunted trees would allow and buried most of the rest, covering everything with large rocks. Some of the food I weighted with a large rock and sank in a little pool. And then I went back to the stick shelter and awaited what would happen.
“That night, as could be expected, there was a great deal of noise and commotion at the stores of food. Those who roar were battling those who growl and those who scream were ever vigilant for a sign of weakness from the others. So in the morning I was not very surprised to find out that all of the food was gone except for the little bit sunk in the pool, and there was much blood and some skin and fur remaining from the battle that had gone on the previous night. But I had my own skin and the spears and the magic stones to make more spears and fire as well as some little food. I did not wish to stay in this place any longer; there was likely to be a large number of night hunters later but no stores of food for them to fight over, so they would be angry. And while the spotted beast in the water seemed to be placated for the moment I was not entirely sure it would remain so. I had to leave. There was no chance of making the journey back to the wintering grounds, as it was still many days' paddle to the trail that lead there, and without a boat the journey would take well into winter. And so, I took all of the provisions I had saved, the spears and the magic stones, and I decided to follow the sun to see where it goes at night.
“The hunting was still good, even for a young one such as I. There were little creatures who were all getting ready for winter, and they kept me fairly well supplied as I journeyed further and further into the night-time home of the sun, away from the Spirit of the water and into the domain of the Spirit of the land. It was perhaps two turns of the moon into my journey, when the winter was beginning, and there was snow on the ground, that I again came to the great water, as if I had been travelling in a circle. But I knew that was not the case, as I had been following the sun on his journey. Also, the great water that I had found was sweet; it was good to drink. In fact, it was the very same great water that we have journeyed upon for this hunt. But the great water was blocking my way and I had no way around it. And winter had begun. I would not survive a winter by myself in that place. So I decided I would die. I had a very comfortable structure of sticks and skin, and I had gathered much dead wood for my last great fire. I said my peace to the Spirit of the land, and gave him thanks for all of the gifts he had given me. I said what peace I could to the Spirit of the water, though I knew he was still angry at me and that was why he blocked me. Then I ate the last of my food and faced the sun as it travelled further away from me, over the great water, to the land that I would never see. And I waited for death to find me.
“But instead of death finding me, it was a hunter of the People. He had seen the smoke from my last fire from a ways off over the water and had come to see who it was that had made such a fire. He had things to trade in his boat; the stone from the water that is good for making into spears and some tusks from the great tusked ones. And of course food. I had nothing to trade back other than stories, such as the one I am telling you now. I told him many stories that night around the fire and in the morning he decided to take me to the People so they could hear my stories too. At first I thanked him and told him no, the Spirit would not permit me to journey on his water. But the hunter convinced me that the Spirit's water here was sweet, and therefore whatever wrongs had been done in that other place with the bitter water were now forgiven.”
“And that is how you made the journey here, Father?” I asked.
“Yes, son. That is how I made the journey.”
“But what of the spotted beast?”
“He is likely still there, in the great water that is bitter. He is likely still looking for hunters who do not show respect. We must be thankful to the Spirits of this place that such a beast does not swim in these waters.” the Old One said with a toothless smile. Everyone stared into the flames as the Old One caused a spirit of relaxation to settle on the group. Far off a mournful one howled his sadness at the moon, and several others joined him.
“And now it is time for all hunters young and old to go to sleep.” Said the Old One, mostly for my benefit, as I was starting to nod off. “Tomorrow there will be many chances to make new stories.”
And as quickly as that, all of the hunters who were not on watch burrowed deep into their skins and fell fast asleep. I crawled off in search of a comfortable place, but I managed to find a spot near both the Old One and the fire. Then I burrowed into my skins and set about drifting off to sleep, while those on watch kept the fire burning brightly; and those who roar, growl, scream and howl stayed away out of respect for the spirits of the fire and the vigilance of the hunters on watch. Nothing came out of the water that night. But those on watch included that direction in their rounds. I finally drifted off to sleep. My dreams were troubled, and filled with angry Spirits. But the night passed without incident.
***
The singers of the sky were up even before the sun, as is usual for them in the spring. A thin layer of the snow that appears by magic overnight and shortly turns into water was covering everything, but the sky was clear and it would be a fine day for hunting. The water lapped gently on the shore, searching for the boats which were too far up the beach for it to find. All of the boats had, of course, been flipped over to make so many shelters for such things as should not get wet. And so the fine white snow did not cover the many skins that would later become our shelter for the spring hunt, nor did it cover the magic stones containing fire, nor the dried meat that would keep us until we had fresh meat, or uncovered a cache. The hunters who had kept watch all night joined in the work preparing for the hunt. None of them dishonoured themselves by yawning.
As a young one, I was excused from many duties that involved moving heavy things or dangerous things, and that of course meant that I was of little use to anyone preparing for a hunt. So I busied myself exploring our surroundings looking for the little berries that are good to eat or the small white flying ones who eat the berries and can be caught by a young one who is fast with a stick. I found myself walking on the beach towards the ice mountain, which was so near you could feel the chill wind flowing down its face. And then, in the manner of the very young, with not enough to do, my mind started to wander and consider things not of immediate value. I found myself wondering: Which was mightier? The ice or the water? That the water was mighty I had little doubt. Our wintering place was very, very far from this, our spring hunt. And still we camped the winter within a day's trail from the mighty water. Those hunters who ranged the wilds in search of strange ones with whom to trade had told me that the mighty water goes on and on forever. In places it seems to stop and become land, they said, but if you paddle a little further then you will find the water flows a great way into the land and continues again. Any hunter who had set out to find out how big the water was never came back, so it must have been that the water went on forever. Our Old One taught us in his stories that even in that place where the water appears to end, if you travel on the land far enough then you will again find the water, though it may be bitter, and then it will continue, going on forever. But Old Ones are magical, and that may have been a magical story.
The camp for our spring hunt was on the beach where the great water met the land. But it was also very near the face of the ice. The ice, like the water, was mighty; so far as anyone knew, it also went on forever. The ice appeared low where it met the land; it looked as though you could climb it very early in the morning and be back before you were missed. But one of the hunters told me that it was mighty even there, where it met the land and the battle between the land and the ice was waged. He said that when he was younger he tried that very thing, to climb to the top of the low-lying ice where it meets the land. He said that it was higher than the high hills around our camp, which take a long time to climb. But more than that, he said that the surface was not strong like a rock, but somewhere between rock and the white snow that makes travel difficult in the winter. And mighty rivers of water were always flowing down its face, and sometimes disappearing within the ice itself in vast cracks and caverns made of ice. He said that the Spirit of the ice became angry if you climbed it, and you would surely be killed if you tried. And there was no game on it anyway, so it was of little value to do such a thing.
Just beyond the low lying ice was the ice mountain, and if the low-lying ice was indeed as high as the hills surrounding our camp, then the mountain itself must reach the clouds. It was higher than the eye could readily understand, and as wide as the horizon. It was an impassable barrier; it was the end of all trails and the beginning of the water. And that is why the great animals with great shaggy coats that loved the cold could be found in abundance at its face. For the unknowable reasons of the Spirits, the great tusked ones birthed their young early in the spring in the land where the sun dwells in the early morning. Then they all followed the sun to his nighttime abode, always following the face of the ice mountain. And so, they passed right by our spring hunting place.
The spring hunt was very important to the People. One tusked one could almost fill a boat with good things: meat, once it was properly dried by the spirits living in the fire; its giant skin, which by itself could make a shelter for a family; but also the enormous tusks. The tusks were made of a kind of white rock, similar to your own teeth. It could be fashioned into ornaments and even small weapons, although they did not keep an edge and the grey rocks of the water were better suited. But the strange ones who lived far away from the ice mountain, many days journey beyond our wintering grounds, were very anxious to get the tusks, and, as in the days of the Old One, had many treasures to trade for them.
And so, we hunted the tusked ones, and we honoured them for giving us their lives, by using every part of them so that nothing went to waste. Even the strangely coloured and greatly smelling parts from inside the tusked ones, the parts that are not good to eat, we would commend back to the Spirit of the land by burying with a sacred ceremony under a mound of rocks. And if you ever found one of these mounds from a previous hunt, then you would see that the Spirit of the land had received your gift and blessed it with a profusion of living green things.
My mind was indeed journeying widely, in the manner of the very young, without enough to do. But it was suddenly called back from its journey by my father, who was telling me to return to camp and guard the fire. The hunters were all leaving, heading towards the ice mountain, and even in the daytime there were creatures who could do much damage to a camp if the spirits of the fire became weak. And so I returned to camp and busied myself finding the wood that washes up on shore to keep the spirits of the fire well satisfied.
The camp was on a small point of land thrusting out into the water facing the ice mountain. There was an expanse of water between the point and the beginnings of the mucky places which were at the foot of the mountain. This was a good location for the camp. There was only one way for the nighttime animals to approach, and so only one direction to guard, although after the Old One's story there would be some attention paid to the water as well. By sleeping with the fire between them and the nighttime animals, the hunters not on watch could be reasonably sure of an uneventful night. The point also had a fine breeze most nights, and this was good to keep the clouds of small biting ones away. But the camp was also in a good location for observing the ice mountain, and so therefore the hunt. There were many swamps and bogs at the face of the mountain, and these were the favourite places of the mighty tusked ones, as it was very difficult to get near them there, and a hunter would most likely be killed by one if he tried to hunt it in the muck. But the tusked ones were listening to the voice of a spirit who always told them to move on, following the sun. And so they did not stay in any one bog for long. And as they moved, we hunted them. But this hunt, a strange thing was about to happen. Instead of staying at the base of the ice mountain, and moving from bog to bog, the mighty tusked ones would stay nearer the water, and attempt to avoid the hunters by swimming around them. The tusked ones had always been mighty; now it seemed they were becoming wise as well. The hunters, who were all an hour's difficult journey through the muck waiting for the giants to journey amongst the bogs stared back in disbelief as a giant mother tusked one and her little one trumpeted up to the shore very near to the camp. She was wise indeed, and watched me suspiciously before deciding whether it was safe to take her little one into the water.
It has been many hunts now since the last of the tusked ones has journeyed to the land of the evening sun, and many of the People have never seen one, nor may ever see one. Let me describe them to you. A tusked one was taller than two hunters, one standing upon the shoulders of the other. It had four legs that were as great around as any tree of the forest. Its face was mostly a nose, but a nose more like one of its legs, or perhaps a very great serpent. This nose was as long as a hunter is tall, and it could use its nose in the manner of a hand in order to grasp things. When it wished to speak it spoke with the noise of a mighty storm and raised its serpent face into the air. The tusks that gave it its name were much longer than a spear, and curved. A Tusked One could kill an unwary hunter by hitting him with its giant nose, or by standing on him with the trees it had for legs, or by splitting him in half with its huge tusks. Sometimes an unwise hunter who was hunting in the muck would simply be engulfed in a wave of muck from the Tusked One attempting to flee. Such a hunter was never seen again.
The giant Mother Tusked One before me at the time was not overly large, and this was perhaps her first young one. She stood as high as I would be if I stood on the shoulders of one of the hunters. Her skin was shaggy with the fur that kept her warm all winter, although the fur was starting to come off in big patches with the coming of summer. But it was her eyes that I particularly noticed. They were very wise, but they were also very sad. They had the sadness of ages in them.
She stared at me long enough to determine that I was no threat to either her or her young one, and then she waded out into the water with her young one and swam across the narrow bay in front of the point I was on. When she reached the other shore they both went on their way, following the sun.
The hunters, meanwhile, had been observing this from the muck and the bogs and had been trying to make it back to camp, which they did long after mother and young had departed. When they made it back there was much discussion about this new development. All agreed that where one Tusked One had gone, others would surely follow. Some of the hunters wanted to lay in wait at the point on the far shore where the two Tusked Ones had gotten out of the water. Some wanted to be on the nearer shore where they went into the water. But then the mightiest hunter, the one who slept in the skin of a toothed one that he had killed himself as it attacked his family one night, and who had been given the sign, said that he would hunt the tusked ones in the water, from a boat. Everyone considered the wisdom of this new thought. The tusked ones could swim, but not that fast. They would have fewer ways of killing a hunter who was in a boat, while they were in the water. It would be easier to single out a particular tusked one in the water. But it would be in the water. How does one appease the spirits when hunting a creature of the land in the water?
Nonetheless, it was decided to try this new way of hunting. And so the next day, half of the hunters went to the face of the ice mountain as they always had to await any giants travelling through the bogs, the Old One among them. He would have nothing to do with this new way of hunting, in the water. But half of the hunters would hunt in the water, and they remained behind, in three boats, hidden by the point of land from the spot where the two tusked ones of the previous day had appeared. And then we waited in silence. I was instructed to do everything exactly as I had the day before, so I busied myself tending to the spirits of the fire. But as time passed and the sun rose higher in the sky, and it grew warmer, and clouds of things buzzed and droned in a sleepy way, a sudden shower of sparks erupted from the fire. But they didn't stop; they continued to spark bright lights, long after they couldn't really be doing so. I knew from experience that bright flashing lights, the kind that others could not see, meant that my mind was about to wander to a strange place, so I quickly lay down beside the fire as the vision took me.
In my vision there was a herd of tusked ones. The largest herd that there has ever been, such that you could not see the beginning nor the end. But as is the way in such journeys of the mind, these were magical tusked ones. Their leader, the Oldest Mother, spoke to me. She asked me what I was doing. I told her I was hunting her kind in order to provide for my kind. She told me she understood; that everyone must provide for their kind. She said she was also providing for her kind. There were no more of the sweet grasses that the tusked ones enjoyed to be found in the land of the morning sun. She said they were to be found in the land of the evening sun, and that is why the herd travelled there every spring, when they had young ones to feed. She said that in times past the herd would travel back, in the dark of winter, to the land where they were all born to carry on the cycle. But there was a change coming.
She could also speak to the Spirits, and the Spirit of the ice said that he too was commencing a journey, far away into the land that he remembered from his youth. He would take his ice mountain with him. The tusked ones, therefore, having great kinship with the Spirit of the ice, would not be returning to the land of the morning sun ever again, but would stay in the land of the evening sun where the sweet grasses were, and follow the Spirit of the ice on his journey.
She could speak to the Spirit of the land. He told her that if the Spirit of the ice were to journey far away then the land would be greatly pleased but there would be a time of turmoil. There would be mighty forests and immense rocks and many of the streams would wander in confusion before finding a new path to travel. All of the creatures of the land but yet of the Ice would have to decide which they preferred; and many of the creatures would leave and not come back, and many new creatures would come and call this land their home. And then the turmoil would be over and the land would be bountiful once again.
She could speak to the Spirit of the water: his was an angry spirit. He told her that the ice was his friend, but not the land, nor the hunters whom the land nourished. The land and its hunters did not show the water the respect due a spirit. So, as his friend the ice was leaving on a great journey, so too was the Spirit of the water going to journey far away. The land and the hunters would learn respect for the water, and then the water would return. But the water would be bitter, and it would be full of the magical monsters of the Old One's time, until the anger of the Spirit had faded.
She could speak to the Spirit of the sky: he was, as is usual, well disposed towards the People and said he would watch over us during the coming times of turmoil.
The Old Mother tusked one told me these things. And then she said that I should travel back to my people, because I was needed. And the vision faded and I found myself staring at the fire, which had begun to burn low. My head ached mightily, and I got my feet in an unsteady manner, not quite sure of my surroundings. But then there was a mighty trumpeting, such as has never been heard before nor since. On the nearer shore of the expanse of water before the camp, a large herd of tusked ones was crashing through the scrub and making the noise of many storms and flowing as a mighty river of fur and noise into the water and then, young ones and old mothers, they started swimming to the far shore to continue their journey. But the hunters had pushed off in pursuit.
This hunt cannot be easily described. The hunt from the previous year was quite fair; there were three tusked ones taken from the muck between the bogs; and there were three hunters who did not make the journey home. But this hunt was to be different. From the boats the hunters were mighty, and in the water the tusked ones were not. The hunters easily killed those tusked ones in front, but the ones behind could not stop because of the force of those following. So they continued, and they too were killed. The killing continued as the river of tusked ones continued, and soon the water was not water at all but the spent life of the tusked ones. I yelled to the hunters to stop, as we surely had taken more than enough bounty, but I could not be heard above the noise and the heart of the mighty hunter who wore the toothed one's skin was on fire and he kept killing and killing. And though the killing of the tusked ones was easy, the removal of them from the water was not. Two of the boats busied themselves with this task while the third, with the mighty hunter, continued killing. But many of the tusked ones simply sank below the water and were lost, while the rest proved unmanageable from a boat. In the end, the entire herd had been killed. But not one of them could be retrieved from the water, and they all fouled the home of the Spirit of the water. When the Old One returned later that evening and learned of all of this, he walked alone out into the land and did not return until it was very dark. There were no stories that night.
There were no more tusked ones that hunt, nor on any other hunt since then. But we did not return to the wintering place without anything in our boats; indeed, there was an abundance of antlered ones that year and also many of those who swim and build dams, and other lesser animals. And that was very good, for this was to be the last hunt in the traditional place of spring hunting.
For this was the last spring hunt before the Spirit of the water went on the journey that was foretold to me by the Old Mother tusked one. When the winter storms had ceased the next spring, we prepared ourselves for the traditional spring hunt, and travelled down the trail to the great water with our boats. But the great water was gone. And in its place was a stagnant, foul swamp that extended as far as could be seen. That was a bad time for the People. There was no spring hunt that year, as we could not travel on the swamp to any place that had game. Many of the People journeyed to the next realm the following winter, including the Old One. To the very end he tried to find the means of apologizing to the Spirit of the water for his life of disrespect, but he could never find the way. Perhaps he will meet the Spirit in the next realm and apologize in person.
The following spring, the swamp was beginning to be replaced by grassland and scrub. It was possible to travel on it, though with great difficulty, and so the decision was made to move the wintering camp in search of a place with good game. After many days and a few turnings of the moon, the people found the place to which the Spirit of the water had journeyed, far away from his previous home. But as the Old Mother had foretold, the water was not sweet; it was bitter. And there were indeed monsters in it, as we all know only too well.
***
“And so that is the story of how the People came to live in this place.” said the Old One, as the fire swirled around in a slight nighttime breeze. The Old One tousled the hair of the young one beside him, who beamed at the honour being showed him. Of course it was an honour; but more importantly it was a thing of the spirit. A part of the Old One's spirit was being transferred to the young one, in the magical way known only to the Old Ones. In due time, this young one would become the keeper of the stories; he would become the Old One, even referring to himself as such. As I do. He would know all of the stories of the Old Ones who came before him; in this way he would keep their spirits alive.
The time of stories was drawing to a close for the night, and soon all of those not on watch would retire to the communal structure. The structure was a large pit, dug out of the soil and the gravel that was to be found in this place, with poles made of the fine strong trees nearby, and covered with the enormous skins of the magical creatures from the Old One's stories. The very existence of these magical skins proved the stories that the Old One told; as if you could ever doubt anything the Old One said. Though sometimes, admittedly, the Old One's mind could wander to strange, far-off places, and the stories could then be so magical as to benefit from something you could touch and see, such as these skins.
The hunters who were on watch for the night helped the Old One first and foremost into the shelter, then came back for the other old ones and mothers with young ones and those of the others who required a place of honour within the shelter, generally near the fire. Then everyone who did not require a special place for the night and were not on watch retired to the shelter and took the spots that were left and there made their beds.
The hunters on watch then came back out and divided up the nightly duties; some would keep the spirits of the fire well satisfied, some would guard the approach to the shelter by land in case any hunters of the night grew bold. But most would guard the approach by water, and the fire had been built between the shelter and the water.
At the bottom of the hill that was the wintering place; indeed, with fine game it was also the summering place; at the bottom of that hill the bitter waves were frothing up on the beach with the quiet roar of a restless spirit. And that restless spirit was far out into the water, and it was watching everything that the People did; with its thrashing tail it kept the water restless. And in this way it reminded everyone to be respectful of the Spirits.