Part 3

Land of Legend

Skulls of beasts glared from the cliffside.

Rows and stacks of skulls propped upon ledges striated across a near vertical wall of rock.

Placed there as a warning for unwitting trespassers.

Elephant skulls, like pale boulders, the tusks curved from the rock face.

Hippo skulls, jaws set agape to expose the wicked fangs.

Skulls of the mighty buffalo, dark horns curved forward like conjoined crescent moons.

And other kinds of elephants, with skulls square across the top, fat tusks protruding from the bottom of the jaw, not long, but tapered to a sharp point, like enormous spikes.

The old alpha stood upon a silted shore at the base of the cliff.

Bent and turned so the sabertooth pendant dangled from his neck as he watched the younger males climb to inspect the awe-inspiring display.

The skulls were arranged here many cycles ago, as it turned out; some of the bones were crumbling to dust, but no doubt put here to mark the hunting grounds of a once mighty clan.

The old alpha almost felt joy.

His kind would rule here again; place fresh skulls upon these majestic walls of rock.

But first, there was hunting to do.

The clan continued upriver, leaving the bones untouched, out of respect.

Traveling, always difficult, has been tedious.

Young males, impatient by default, were overly aggressive.

There are not enough females.

The ruling alpha has forbidden fighting, not even to relieve tension between rival pacts.

Their numbers are dangerously low.

All of the females had bellies with little ones, which was good, but that meant limited options for sex and procreating, which was bad.

At least food was plentiful.

And finally, mountains in every direction.

The clan could settle here; be content, having at last found a place similar to home.

But the problem of too few females would persist.

Typically, in a healthy clan, females outnumber the males; sometimes, the ratio skewed more when an alpha was killed and the males schemed and battled to establish a dominant alliance.

If numbers shifted too far one way, fighting over access to females would not abate.

If numbers shifted too far the other way, they would be raided by a rival clan, intent on taking the females they could not protect.

Every clan member instinctively knew that a proper balance was necessary for their survival.

While crossing the rotting wetlands, the old alpha watched helplessly as many died.

And when the flat faces surprised them by viciously attacking back, their numbers—especially the females—were reduced more critically.

Making matters worse, successful births were rare since leaving the land of the forebears.

The remaining females were unambiguous in the need for permanent caves for that to change.

While the young males wanted more females.

The new land overflowed with prey and the nearby mountains would have caves.

The remaining problem would be solved by doing what came naturally to a bubinzwana—by raiding another clan and taking some of its females.

The flat face clan so irritatingly following them up the river would fortuitously become prey.

Flat face females grew large and funny looking, but would suffice for the time being, if for nothing else than sex.

They would raid the flat face clan of its young females and escape into the mountains.

But the old alpha was wary of the plan.

He wanted revenge, of course, but taking females would motivate the flat faces.

And that worried the old alpha.

For most of his life, the old alpha was anchored in the belief that all creatures were either prey or predator.

And only his kind was the greatest predator.

The supreme predator!

But the flat faces changed the rules.

Acting as prey when left alone, but once attacked, continued to behave as a herd—while at the same time, as a single, mighty predator, as amazingly as a caterpillar transformed to a butterfly.

The old alpha urged caution, but the young alpha knew the clan was desperate.

Chapter 13

Waterfalls and Danger

The tectonic upwelling of the African continent is pronounced across the eastern plateau.

The result is a vast area of earth much higher than its surroundings.

The surface level of the great lake for which the people journeyed rests over 500 meters above sea level.

A single river drains the enormous body of water, exiting from the southern tip to flow sluggishly across an elevated plain.

The river continues south, descending an escarpment canyon, along the way, tearing through gorges to arrive at a narrow plain, where the river widens and calms and eventually joins the Zambezi.

The people had journeyed the length of the narrow plain, a land the Abantu committed to song as the forest of the elephants.

Before them rose hills and then mountains, where the land of legend beckoned, the south flowing river having carved a path to reveal the way.

***

It was easy to see this land was different; the river as well.

Frothy white flanks formed wherever rocks protruded from the swift center channel, the movement of gray water creating a constant hiss, leading Yathi to say out loud what Eku was thinking: “I keep thinking I hear rain.”

Eku said, “Uwama is calling her water home.”

“She must be saying hurry. The water is moving too fast. I do not want to swim here.”

“For sure.”

Eku marveled at how the fast-moving water chewed away Umawa’s soft spots, exposing a chute of bedrock and smashed stone.

The flow of deep time molded sediment, silt and other material into banks and terraced levees along canyon walls.

Boulders battered round crowded the shoreline, the gaps filled with smaller stones and sand-like sediment.

To either side of the main chute, the outer floodplain yielded a fringe of soil.

Twisted trees, bushes and vines battled over every scrap of dirt to form a barrier too dense for humans; thus, the tribe moved along the inner floodplain, careful to avoid the turbulent main channel.

Eku and Yathi waded through shallows, padded along soft silted shores, and climbed through and over jumbled barriers of bush and crumbled rock.

Following the path set by the lead hunters.

Above the tangled margins of green growth, the canyon rose steep on each side, mostly bare with large boulders and puffy, pale green bushes; from a distance, giving the appearance of full bladders, precariously balanced, sure to tumble at the first, hearty puff from Ulayo.

Eku and Yathi were hardened from constant marching; nevertheless, trekking such rugged land took a toll.

The steeper inclines required that legs and arms were put equally to work.

Eku stuck his fingers into cracks in the bedrock and tugged at seemingly indestructible tufts of grass that clung to life along miniature fault lines.

He and Yathi, like everyone, took turns pushing each other’s butts, grabbing hands and wrists, hauling each other over the debris piles left from the most recent flooding.

When the slope temporarily leveled, slabs of flat bedrock worn smooth from water and time and warmed from Ulanga’s fire offered a pleasant texture for their feet.

The easy parts did not last.

The price of progress was sometimes painful.

A slip meant a crack to the shin, a bruised knee, a swollen elbow; thus, the tribe stopped frequently for rests, sharing snacks of fruit pulp, nuts and cured flesh.

While the center channel remained dangerous, side chutes formed pools, cool and refreshing, with a taste that reminded Eku of rivers from home.

Such a difficult environment left the canyon free of beasts; thus, the danger level was minimal and the tribe became strung out in small groups.

When the hunters led them to a broad terrace of open bedrock, the tribe stopped to rest and regroup.

The terrace was wide and flat, split into two levels, but the river flowed exclusively along the far side of the canyon, through a fissure in the bedrock.

Eku marvelled at how the pull of Uwama and the shape of the fractured bedrock condensed the channel into a more narrow and powerful force.

He and Yathi stepped as close as they dared.

Looked down at the white water, racing past with a sound not unlike a shatsheli-lambo rain storm, a thundering, furious wetness.

Spray tickled their faces and bodies with drops and they stepped nervously away.

Across from the path of the water was flat bedrock, nothing but cracks in the caprock and scattered pebbles before the desiccated remains of too-bold vines announced the beginning of soil and a vine-infested border of green.

The area was crowded and Eku saw an unoccupied flat spot if they climbed to the next ledge.

He urged Yathi forward, away from the water, at the same time as he spotted his mother.

Krele occupied the path they followed, hands on her hips, planted with her feet wide in front of a group of nesibindi, including a young and stalwart male with a wrapped leg.

When Krele’s voice rose shrill—even above the tumult of the water—Eku turned to share a worried look with Yathi.

Eku’s mother was always soft spoken, but on the rare occasions that her voice rose—look out!

Krele used the few Bwana words that she knew (as well as a few choice Abantu ones) to admonish the muscular warrior in front of all his comrades.

The injured nesibindi towered over Krele and bowed his head.

Shuffled to sit on a nearby boulder and stretched his leg out, grimacing as he did so, Krele nodding knowingly.

The leg was swollen and wrapped with poultices that she knelt to remove and freshen as he sat perfectly still, the look of rebuke on his face one that Eku was all too familiar with.

As Yathi and Eku trod past, Krele looked up and smiled.

Eku automatically smiled back, as always, finding his mother’s swift transformation from the most terrifying to the most loving person unnerving.

There was a brief, but steep climb before them.

Eku went down on all fours, sealskin satchel, bed mat and ula-konto strapped securely to his back.

Clambered around a pile of stone dumped there from the last deluge and up a short, but steep incline, the chute of the river hissing to the left.

Behind them, Krele continued to scold the nesibindi for being too proud to allow his comrades to carry him over the difficult parts so that his wound would heal faster.

Eku looked away from the water and saw green pigeons, with a red stripe on wings and across the tail, bobbing along the rocks, equidistant between the hard-working humans and the tangle of green.

The birds seemed to be mocking them with their head-bobbing-forward strut.

Eku said, “They are wondering where we are going.”

Climbing behind him, Yathi answered, “I have been wondering since we left home. This is as bad as the jungle.”

“For sure,” Eku said, though he was kind of enjoying the challenge.

***

Higher up the escarpment, the climb became steeper, the terrain more rugged, the chute more narrow.

Eku marveled at the power of Umawa, so distant, yet able to call her water home so the river surged down the slope with a hiss comparable to the pounding of her waves during storm

The shorelines of sediment had vanished, leaving only enormous rocks that made Eku think of teeth along a jawline.

Great boulders bulged like cracked molars along each side of the swiftly moving water; some collapsed into the channel to create raging waterfalls.

Eku marvelled at how the water had trapped so much of Ulayo’s breath inside.

Becoming vibrantly alive, an opaque and white beast flowing swiftly past.

He imagined the ravine as the resting place of an ancient and enormous ir-hamka, a giant that died and left a trail of pale and crumbling vertebrae, teeth and other bones through which the river now flowed.

He told Yathi his idea and he said, “Maybe it was a giant snake? From before the terrible times.”

“For sure,” Eku said. “Like a giant jungle snake, but waka bigger.”

“Waka-waka bigger. Like this silly mountain.”

The young males bumped shoulders when forced to a stop.

The tribe was a long parade of people strung out along the rocky river bed.

Ahead of them, on either side, vertical walls of rock.

A deep gorge from which the river emerged with even more violent turbulence.

Impassable.

While the tribe settled, Kaleni and Nibamaz led a group of hunters up the canyon walls to determine what to do next.

Eku and Yathi found Yat, Tar and Maz on an opportune, gentle slope of exposed bedrock, using their sacks and bed mats as backrests.

Wearing only loincloths, they stretched their long legs out on the warm and flat rock.

Yat, Tar and Maz were part of an enormous laba-ini on the southern shores.

Tar was the daughter of Nyama and Nibamaz.

Maz was the daughter of Sulu and Juka.

Eku realized he once had a crush on Maz; only now, having met Ingwe, he knew that falling in love was an overwhelmingly more powerful experience.

Besides, Maz was so much older.

He still thought of her with affection … Just different now.

Like Yat, Maz and Tar still had long hair.

Eku clicked and Yat clicked back that it was okay to be near their opportune spot.

He and Yathi gratefully set down satchels and settled comfortably upon the warm rock, close to the older females—but not too close.

Dokuk and Odi approached, sharing silly smiles.

Dokuk confidently sat next to Yat, but Tar clicked at Odi in a way that said scram and Maz simply rolled her eyes to show she was not interested.

Odi, wearing his vest with the beads and the ferret and squirrel tails, appeared disappointed and sat next to Eku and Yathi.

There were people all around, sitting on rocks, squatting on the ground, standing and sharing snacks.

Adults clustered next to a calm, off-chanel pool, drinking or filling bladders or bathing.

Ulanga was warm, but Ulayo’s breath was enough to make the heat comforting.

The steady passage of the river soothed, washing away all other sound.

Soon, all eyes of the young Abantu were closed, but for Eku’s.

He gazed, fascinated over the great slabs of exposed bedrock, people scattered everywhere.

Looked up the escarpment, following the path of the river and could see enough past the gorge to know there was still much to climb.

He breathed deeply and marveled at the scent of the warm air, similar to open stretches of savannah, but baked hot by the stone without the richness of foxtail grass.

There were the comforting scents of his tribemates, as always.

Other smells of Uwama emanated from the rock, faint and whitewashed, devoid of any character, like the effect the river had on all sound.

Eku’s eyes were finally beginning to droop when the hunters returned.

A demanding climb awaited.

After winding through a path cut through the bramble of the floodplain, Eku and Yathi saw terrain of almost exclusively rock.

And very steep.

Yathi said, “This is like the beaches of Uwama, where the sand is gone.”

“For sure,” Eku said, knowing that Yathi was thinking of the beaches back home that had coverings of rock instead of sand.

The rocks, ranging from miniature mountains to boulders and scattered stone, still had pointy spots, making the placement of feet a delicate matter.

Even the smooth, puffs of green Eku saw from below proved an attestation to the harsh landscape, becoming up close, wind-bent snarls of boxthorn so dense with spines one would not dare grab on for purchase.

Eku and Yathi spent most of the climb on all fours, testing each foothold before planting and shifting.

Some adults were forced to stop and put protective coverings of hide and sinew on their feet.

Two strong Abantu stayed close to Tiuti, helping him to surmount the difficult incline.

Once scaling the canyon, the people wound single file through wind-warped junipers at the top of the gorge.

Holding hands, Eku and Yathi crept to the edge to look down.

Clicking to each other rapidly, awed at the vertical walls of rock and frothy white below.

Like white blood pulsing through a vein, Eku thought.

Found the churning of the water hypnotic and wanted to sit and watch.

But the sky had clouded over during the climb and a steady rain began to fall.

The people kept moving.

Marching across rock slabs with little soil to absorb the rainwater, treading carefully where the water pooled.

Such unforgiving land was not conducive for camping and the tribe continued into the night.

Eventually, the rain stopped and sore feet begged for a halt.

Yanga emerged as a narrow crescent, but bright enough to cast eerie illumination upon a bleak landscape.

Flat slabs of bedrock, boulders and a scattering of small rocks.

Wherever a gap or fissure offered purchase, gnarled junipers formed jaggedy rows, the gnarled branches reaching to the dark sky like half-clenched fingers.

Ulayo’s breath became cool for the first time since leaving home.

With few hides and all of them soaked by rain, the people began to shiver and huddled close.

Wedged between Yat and Yathi, in a half seated position, back propped against a mound of satchels and sacks, Eku did not expect to sleep, but nodded off.

And dreamed.

***

He and Yathi were alone in a dense, green jungle.

Shouting for help, but the thick vegetation absorbed all sound.

They struggled to push past giant ferns with pinnules thick and prickly.

Eku checked to see if blood was drawn, but it was too dark to see and he reached for Yathi, to feel the strength of his back.

They emerged onto a plateau of rock.

The jungle faded mysteriously behind.

Ulayo blew intensely and Eku leaned his slight frame against her breath.

A sound rose.

A buzzing, easily heard over the whistle Ulayo made in his ears.

A column of water flowed across the top of the rock, near to where he stood with Yathi.

The buzzing came from the water, which followed a controlled path as a river does, but impossibly through the air, as though sealed inside a tube.

Like the gorge.

Or water through a vein.

Eku thought: this is what happens when there is no life.

Rock and water.

Umawa and Uwama, at their purest.

As though he said his thoughts out loud, Yathi replied, “But the water is trapped here.”

Eku was suddenly exhilarated!

They are going the wrong way.

He should have known!

Excited, he turned to tell Yathi, but strangely … He cannot speak?

Yathi was looking away, anyhow.

At people.

Their tribe or another tribe.

Too far away to tell.

Yathi walked toward the people.

Eku went to follow, but his movements were slow.

In fact, he can barely lift his foot off the ground!

Straining mightily, he took a single, agonizingly slow step that took so long that Yathi and the people disappeared into the jungle.

And now the jungle has vanished again!

Somehow.

Leaving only rock and the wrong flowing water.

Eku is alone.

An Abantu’s greatest fear.

Found he was unable to breathe, yet, somehow, was not suffocating.

Impossible.

But….

Eku whipped his head in all directions.

To find Yathi.

To find anyone.

But he was alone on the rock with the wrong flowing water.

He tried to remember landmarks.

Beaches and rock escarpments.

The fantastic jungle trees.

Endless landmarks, memorized every day, a habit drilled into Eku since weaning.

But there was only rock.

And water.

He needed to breathe, but there was no air.

The world began to spin and everything went black.

***

Terrified, Eku opened his eyes to realize he was dreaming.

Warm pressed against Yat and Yathi, but cold anywhere skin was exposed.

Yanga had drifted to the edge of the sky and his gaze was bright, casting black shadows with sharp edges.

Eku saw his mother, pressed against the other side of Yat, eyes closed tightly.

She looked uncomfortable.

Troubled.

Maybe she was also having a bad dream.

Rotated his head to look past Yathi; past Aunt Shona and Uncle Lume.

A bleak, black and gray landscape, clustered with heaps of interwoven limbs, the angle of Yanga’s light creating curved shapes of human symmetry.

Eku wondered where father was.

He knew very well that hunters with three or more talons do not rest during difficult times.

They were out to ensure the next stage of the passage was safe.

A hunter always found the way.

***

A gray sky swiftly changed to laza.

The people rose stiff and sore and bleary eyed, but Ulanga grew warm and sore joints loosened.

Water bladders were passed around and dried fruit and nuts shared.

Eku told Yathi of his dream as they moved amidst the parade of people, making their way gingerly across terrain savaged by geologic activity.

Yathi looked thoughtful for a moment, then said with a faith that inspired and humbled Eku, “You could find us the way home.”

“I do not know.”

“You could.”

“I would not want to have to.”

“For sure. But the first thing you should do is find something to eat. That is what we should be doing now. Except there is nothing on all these rocks except nasty trees.

“They are nasty, for sure.”

“Even an elephant would not eat them, probably,” Yathi grumbled. “Where are we going, anyway?”

No doubt the enduring question, Eku thought, peering ahead.

A long line of people walked no more than two or three abreast, winding across almost indestructible caprock, where only Umawa’s most powerful squeeze created the narrow fissures necessary for caches of debris and soil and thus, the indestructible junipers.

Luckily, the tribe did not have to remain above the river for long.

Once clear of the gorge, the canyon walls were less steep and the chute widened.

Further up the canyon, Eku saw fringes of forest growing outside the cross-bedded layers of the floodplain.

The people descended to the chute of the river and continued ascending the escarpment.

***

Eku thought the river had become like a great stairway.

Each tread was a settled area, slow moving with deep pools.

Each riser, a series of falls over rocks stacked like the scutes of a turtle shell, but without the spacial perfection, the water cascading through the fractures in streams of white water.

Ulanga burned hot, making the previous night seem like a bad dream.

As always, the tribe made frequent stops for rest and snacks.

Eku and Yathi, like many of the young people, ignored the chance to rest; instead, scrambled to slide down gushing chutes, dunked each other in plunge pools, and ducked under miniature waterfalls.

The grade of the slope continued to ease and the wooded areas along the river broadened.

There were sightings of plant eaters, including duiker and bushbuck slipping into the bush; monkeys in the trees.

When the lead hunters came upon a spectacular waterfall that fell into a beautiful plunge pool, they stopped to replenish.

***

A wide and vertical face of granite resulted in a stunning waterfall.

The river flowed thick over the top and spread horizontally as it tumbled down.

About halfway, where the erosional forces of cascading water undercut the softer rock below, the cliff steepened and the water became a solid sheet of white, plunging straight down to a bubbling froth.

The impact of the water created a vibrant hum that seemed to pulse through the sole’s of Eku’s feet and tickle his stomach.

The center of the basin was deep; a gradient of light to dark laza, like the iris and pupil of a misshapen eye.

Boulders of umber surrounded the pool, crowned by bright green moss.

Dense thickets encircled the area, healthy from the constant mist, the bushes plump with fat green leaves and long, tubular pink flowers.

No sooner had the decision been made to settle, when young Abantu were leaping into the water.

The adults made no effort to stop them.

The Abantu were raised as swimmers and divers and the enticement of such a beautiful setting was simply too much.

The young Bwana and Mantel more tentatively followed.

Centuries of erosional forces hollowed the base of the cliff and a cave-like space behind the waterfall was quickly found.

Eku, Yathi, Dokuk, Odi and Yat and Tar and Maz and Sisi and eventually all of the young people were soon weaving along the shoreline rocks to disappear behind the waterfall, only to come hurtling through the wall of water for an exhilarating, but safe pummeling.

Many people soon floated around a spacious swimming area.

The top half of the waterfall had ledges to picnic across and familial groups fanned around and above the pool.

Eku bobbed in the water next to Yathi.

There were bodies of people everywhere, literally surrounding the pool.

Found his mother nearby along the shore, tending to the wounded Nesibindi, where she ordered him to lie down and rest while she checked his leg.

Shona, Luvu and Nyama gathered some of the young males and females who were not swimming to explore through the shoreside thicket for anything worth harvesting and Eku wondered if it might be worth grabbing his ula-konto and tag along.

But then he spotted Ingwe amongst a group of Bwana females headed their way and decided to stay.

***

Eku and Yathi swam around the base of the waterfall, careful to avoid the sucking pull that came from below.

Watching the Bwana females.

Eku has seen the females of his tribe naked countless times, but when Ingwe removed her loincloth and let down her hair and entered the water, he felt something different.

A loincloth did not really hide anything to begin with, but the removal signified another level of intimacy.

Her body was perfect, Eku thought.

Limbs long and supple and strong.

The amount of hair between her legs showed Ingwe was maturing a bit faster than him, but she still had some growing to do.

Like himself.

Unexpectedly, Eku felt his penis stir and frantically tried to think of something else.

Impossible, once those things started.

Ingwe saw Eku staring and waved.

Eku smiled and blushed and waved and his penis calmed down, for which he was enormously relieved.

He and Yathi were nearly as indefatigable in water as on land and stuck to the deeper area, swimming close to the waterfall with some of the “older” young people, including Tuve, Dokuk and Odi, Yat, Tar and Maz.

Yathi clicked at Eku with delight when Sisi and Kat swam over, but was disappointed when he saw Bot determinedly trailing.

Everyone was diving to see who could touch the bottom when Ingwe suddenly bobbed beside Eku, having swam over while he was underwater.

Eku was pleased to see that Ingwe was a good swimmer, even for an Abantu.

The two of them grinned silly at each other and swam away from the sound of the waterfall so they could talk.

Reached a place where their feet touched bottom.

Stood, grinning at each other, the shoreline showing pale rocks, brightly green bushes and pink flowers.

Ingwe was tall enough to remind Eku that all she wore was the necklace with the laza pendant.

Ulanga’s fire made the wet stone sparkle and Eku blurted, “Your necklace is very beautiful.”

“My father had this made special for the mother of my brothers. He found the stone and Wutota made it shine. After she died he kept it for a long time. He gave it to me after I was born.”

Moved and feeling the need to respond, Eku said, “My father’s necklace has four talons of the fish eagle.”

“I am told that is special. My father talks of your father often. He likes him very much.”

“A necklace with an eagle talon, that is what I have always wanted,” Eku said, talking too fast, like he had lost control of his mouth. “To be a hunter and wear a fish eagle necklace.”

His smile vanished as he hurriedly said, “But there are other things I want. Very much.”

Ingwe, also unable to stop smiling, said, “I know. I want things. When you get the fish eagle talon necklace, then we will both have a special necklace.”

Eku laughed and they continued to stare and smile and talk.

The power of the waterfall reminded Eku of the awesome power of Uwama; though, he knew firsthand that no river, not even shatsheli-lambo—not anything in the world!—could compare to the power of the mother of them all.

But then, Eku realized that somehow, Ingwe held a piece of that power.

The way that females do.

There was something about her, despite having never known her until so recently, that inspired him to … Well, maybe to do anything.

At least anything he was capable of.

Whatever that meant.

There were people all around, but Ingwe and Eku only had eyes for each other.

When they reentered the water, they playfully wrestled and feelings coursed through Eku’s body.

When they went into the deeper water and became entwined, her skin sent frantic signals, forcing him to swim away, embarrassed by another erection.

One that did not want to go away so quickly.

Eku knows what is happening.

For an Abantu, sexual activity was forbidden until a female was ready, which she indicated by cutting her hair.

Eku had no idea if either he or Ingwe was ready, which surely meant they were not.

Besides, he only knows Abantu customs.

When a male and female were interested in each other, there was a period similar to having an ikanabe, before sexual activity began.

And as far as sex went, there was always sexual activity going on in a camp or village, especially one as large as they were in now.

People were discreet, but sex was not a mystery at any age.

Eku figured he knew the basics.

Besides, after listening to Yat and Yathi blab about it all the time, Eku preferred not to hear anything more about the sex stuff.

For now.

The only thing he knew with absolute certainty—the same way he knew he wanted to be a hunter—is that Ingwe was the female with whom he wanted the sex to happen.

Telling her he had to pee, Eku swam to the far side of the pool, downstream and away from everyone, where the water was cooler.

Peed, which helped things calm down.

When Eku returned, he swam close to Ingwe, but not too close.

Later, as he clambered from the water, Ingwe’s older, twin brothers separated from a group of nesibindi and moved purposefully toward him.

Naked and self conscious, Eku was relieved—and a bit proud—that hair was now showing around his penis.

Managed to quickly find his loincloth and tie it around his waist as they waited, looking tall and muscular and painfully polite.

While the shape of the brothers’ faces were identical, and they both kept long hair, currently braided in similar, loose ponytails, there were subtle differences in countenance.

Ingwe talked of them often, so Eku knew that Tokuta was stern and teased, while Kotuta was quiet and sweet, but in competitions amongst the nesibindi, competed fiercely and was often champion.

“Eku, I am Tokuta,” the closer twin said.

“I am Kotuta,” the other brother said.

Eku realized something and smiled, a bit embarrassed, saying slowly, to separate the sounds his mouth was making, “Tok-uta and Kot-uta. Your father is Uta.”

“Ah,” Kotuta said with a smile. He looked at his twin and said, “They said this one pays attention.”

Eyes only on Eku, Tokuta said, “I hear you want to be a hunter, like your father.”

Eku stood up as tall as possible. Smiled. “Yes. More than anything.”

Tokuta asked, “More than anything?” He flicked eyes toward the water, where Ingwe swam with her friends.

Eku found the question stymied him; though, he knew he was just thinking the exact same question.

Thought for a moment and said, “I have always wanted to be a hunter. But I do want other things.”

Looked toward the water, at Ingwe and back at Tokuta and Kotuta.

Shrugged and said, “To be a hunter is my oldest dream.”

Kotuta said, somewhat sarcastically, “The oldest, eh?” But grinned again, after he said it.

Eku smiled, embarrassed.

They were joking because he was young, but he knew why the twins were there.

They are watching him with Ingwe and want him to know that.

Eku had no idea whether that was good or bad.

***

Others also watched.

From higher up the escarpment, a group of bubinzwana observed the flat faces.

Lying flat on their bellies upon the smooth bedrock of another waterfall-bearing cliff; though, not nearly as majestic as the one below.

Peering over the ledge, careful to place their heads next to projections, so there was no chance to be seen.

Gazing down the rocks and bushes and cascading water at the flat faces below.

Frolicking.

Unaware.

Easy prey.

But the bubinzwana are under strict orders.

Reconnaissance only.

The Alpha made it clear that disobedience would result in a most unpleasant death.

Besides, the Alpha assured them that hunting the flat faces would come later.

Wind blew pleasantly up the chute of the canyon.

The sound of the river was pleasing.

The bubinzwana enjoyed watching the flat faces frolic in the water below.

They especially enjoyed watching the young females.