A NOVEL SET IN PREHISTORY
The Oak People
Chapter 26: The hunters make a curious find
Bidari
Goi is bent low over something he has seen in the grass. Bidari chuckles, thinking how he looks like a huge tortoise, his back humped and shining with sweat. Then, suddenly, Goi’s head is up and he is licking his finger.
‘This way.’ He springs to his feet. ‘Antelope blood.’
Bidari and the others follow as he sets off in a loping run, his eyes never leaving the ground. The heat is sweltering. The grass on the plain is brown, the earth too dry to carry hoof prints, but Goi is like the eagles that circle over the plain; nothing escapes his sharp eyes. Bidari runs, sweat pouring down his back. Blood! If the antelope is injured, they might be able to run him down. Strength floods into his legs at the prospect of meat, after so long.
Goi has halted and is scanning the ground again. He straightens up and points toward the stream that flows into the Crocodile River. There are stands of reed and green grass on either side, where the roots reach down into wet soil. In the sky above the reeds, two vultures are circling. Perhaps the antelope is near death already. Goi puts his finger to his lips and they slow to a walk, following the blood trail. The antelope must have gone to the stream to drink. Koldo raises his spear to his shoulder and the others copy him.
The afternoon breeze brings the stench of stale blood and rotting intestines, dashing Bidari’s hope of fresh meat. The antelope must be dead. But if a hunting cat took him in the night, there may be scraps of meat left. Goi signals and they spread out, approaching warily, though the air carries no scent of lion. Behind a thornbush, Bidari finds what is left of the animal, a full-grown male, crashed beside the reeds. The air is full of flies. The men gather uneasily around the carcass in the heat. Something is wrong. The guts still lie on the ground but the head is missing. A lion would not take the head.
The reeds close by have been flattened and Goi picks something up, sitting back on his heels to examine it: a blade, beautifully struck, but broken in two. There is dried blood along the edge. With darkness spreading over his thoughts, Bidari examines the bones closely. The flesh has not been torn from the haunches by lion teeth. The antelope has been butchered, and by skilful hands.
‘Look at this,’ Koldo says. ‘It was in the grass.’
On the palm of his hand lies a strip of softened hide. It was once tied around an arm, perhaps, but one of the ties is missing. The middle of the strip has been pierced and the quills of two tail feathers forced through the hole. Bidari picks the strange thing up, the feathers with their mottled brown and grey markings still firmly attached. With a shiver, Bidari drops it back into Koldo’s palm.
Goi is circling the bloody carcass, gently moving the trampled reeds to reveal the earth, softer here, by the stream.
‘Don’t move,’ he barks and begins to weave to and fro, his eyes to the ground. He touches the earth with his fingers. ‘I thought so,’ he says. ‘These are not our tracks. And there’s no mark here of a hunting cat.’
Bidari sees the puzzlement on Koldo’s face. The breeze from the Salt Water gathers strength, playing on the surface of the stream, but the only sounds are the buzzing of flies and the call of the vultures overhead. The sense of darkness grows, like a magic silence but alien.
‘What does it mean?’ Tipi asks. ‘If it wasn’t a cat …’
‘These are the tracks of men,’ answers Goi.
‘But who …?’ Tipi sounds frightened. ‘The Marsh People?’
‘No.’ Koldo sounds certain. ‘They wouldn’t hunt near our paths, and start the fighting again.’
Koldo takes out an axe and begins to chop at the antelope’s ribs. There are scraps of flesh that can be eaten and, perhaps, marrow. ‘Take what we can,’ he says, ‘then let’s go back.’
The breeze has dropped and the air is sticky as they climb back up to the cave. Bidari walks with his nephew. Tipi is taller than him now and his chest is filling out but he is not going to be as big as Koldo.
‘What did my father mean — about the fighting?’ Tipi asks.
‘Fighting?’
‘The Marsh People. He said they wouldn’t start it up again.’
‘Oh — that was in the old days — when your grandfather was a child. In those times, if we went to the Salt Water to collect nefafa, they would ambush us.’
‘Did we fight them?’ Tipi sounds excited.
‘Yes. They killed my father’s uncle and we killed one of them. After that, we made peace and they let us follow their paths. There has been no fighting since.’
Tipi nods. ‘And Ama says they have a man for Bo.’
Bidari stiffens; so it is already arranged. He glances keenly at Tipi. Why did he mention Bo? Has she told someone what he did? The young man’s face shows no sign.
‘So they wouldn’t hunt on our land?’ Tipi asks.
‘No.’
‘But then who took the antelope?’
Bidari can only shrug his shoulders. Tipi goes on ahead, leaving him to stand staring out across the plain. Beyond the plain the marshlands begin and somewhere there, beside the river, is a ring of huts. A boy, not much older than Tipi, sleeps in one of those huts. Soon the Oak People will be called to a gathering and Bo will be joined with that boy. His unknown hands will roam over her body and whenever he wants to, he will have her.
Thank you for reading. Chapter 27 coming soon …
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