Chapter 15
Beyond the Cliff of Skulls
Beyond the prominence that formed the cliff of skulls, the mountain range changed course again, veering away from the river.
The floodplain expanded to a narrow plain that ended at the heavily forested hills.
The river was broad now, the far shore but a dark green line with hills as shadowed bumps in the background.
The tribe settled upon an inlet formed during a time the water rose higher, a patch of flatland shaped like one side of an antelope print.
The land rose with the ridge that veered diagonally away from the river to rise to a mountain; Eku noted the placement of the encampment was such that they could only be approached from one direction—the mountain.
Palms dotted the former inlet, each clump several trees surrounded by a dense thicket, the fat, patterned trunks topped with drooping clusters of leaves.
As always, the palm leaves would serve well for shelters, in addition to the sturdy water reeds to the upriver side of the encampment.
The shoreline was mostly wide and flat, a dark margin of silt speckled with pale pebbles.
The shallows of the river provided another boundary, furry with bright green water grass growing to a uniform edge where the center channel deepened.
The land continued to broaden further upriver, flattening as the opposing ridgelines spread further apart, leaving a northern horizon of only sky—the endless lake of freshwater.
Perhaps only a few days of hiking away.
***
Establishing camp was like harvest—every able bodied person participated.
A steady rain fell as the izik-kosa attacked the dense wall along the boundary of the old inlet, tall saplings stripped of small crowns to provide ribbing for the extra-large shelters that would be erected.
Eku and Yathi helped transport the pliant poles to the center of camp.
They next pulled brush to where barriers were forming along the borders of the encampment and gathered waka-waka vines, useful for construction of the shelters.
Waka-waka adults chopped river grass and palm leaves that Eku and Yathi helped transfer to where they were woven across rounded frames formed from the flexible poles.
Izik-kosa continued to slash away at the periphery of camp, downing overhanging limbs to enhance visibility past the first layer of mature forest.
Eku and Yathi dragged still more brush to where barriers along either end had grown large. There was a barrier at the downriver end of the encampment and another on the upriver end.
All of the young people gathered logs, sticks, browned and brittled palm leaves, dried clumps of dried water grass—as much burnable material as could be found, stacked under simple shelters to get out of the rain.
Good fortune continued with harvest: enormous catfish drifting in the shallows to be easily speared and dragged ashore.
Yathi, who generally enjoyed all things fishing, was unhappy when the only thing left for him and Eku was to haul the carcasses onto land for gutting; slimy and smelly work that required scrubbing afterward.
“The fish here are silly,” Yathi said as they used bone scrapers to hack and pull entrails from the guts of a giant catfish.
Eku looked along the scaly, but smooth, laza-gray skin, to a gill he could fit his hand through and an eye as big as his palm. Watched raindrops splatter off the thin, but strong transparent layer of tissue that protects the eyes of all fish and beasts.
Even humans.
Anything with eyes, actually.
He wondered, how else would the light of the world safely pass through our eyes to enter our minds so that we can see?
Leaned closer and saw his outline reflected in the enormous black pupil and said, “There are no Abantu here. Nor other predators that hunt from shore. So they do not know to fear us.”
***
Once again the land had changed dynamically and in favor of the people’s palette.
Around the encampment were fig trees, tasty berries and bushes with yellow and orange sek-unda.
Monkeys were heard in the distance, hooting and screaming and barking in a way Eku had never heard. Certainly a new species and from the sounds—large.
Under normal circumstances such a wealthy harvest would lead to spontaneous feasting and celebration, but the young people worked silently, knowing no such frivolity awaited.
Mothers snapped off commands in voices brittle with stress.
When unsure what to do next, Eku and Yathi tagged along with Yat, Tar and Maz.
Everyone in camp was aware of select Abantu and Mantel hunters going in and out of the forest.
There was plenty of food so they were not hunting.
Eku and Yathi and the older young females gathered tasty berries from bushes growing along the downriver edge of the camp, next to where the land rose steep.
Yathi kept gazing up the mountain, clicking with worry.
“Try not to be afraid,” Yat told him.
Yathi, looking where the scouts entered the forest, asked, “What are they doing?”
“They are watching the bad ones. The bubinzwana.”
Eku offered, “Those are the most skilled scouts. As good as father and Nibamaz.”
Maz added, “They know where the beasts are.”
Yathi clicked even more rapidly in worry
Eku said, “We are tracking them and they are tracking us.” Seeing Yathi’s eyes widen, he added, “That is the way of the forest. If you are a hunter, you know where things are.”
Yathi exclaimed, “The bubinzwana have hunters? Like us!”
Eku clicked yes.
“But they are beasts!”
“They are very clever,” Yat said. “As dangerous and smart as a leopard in the forest. That is what my father said.”
“They are like us,” Maz said. “But they are beasts.”
“Yolumkono,” Eku said with an emphasis on his voice that he hoped conveyed humor.
Yat and Maz smiled, but Tar and Yathi only looked more worried.
***
The rounded huts were finished, with flexible poles for ribbing and water reeds and palm leaves to fully enclose each shelter.
Arranged in rows parallel to the river.
A span of clear land lay between the grouping of shelters and each end of the encampment, where the barricades rose, extended into the shallow water and fortified with branches sharpened into spikes.
The intense work of camp preparation had everyone voracious.
Roofing was erected over fire pits and waka-waka food was cooked while the young people gathered more fuel for the fires.
Ulanga had fallen behind the mountain and the air cooled when the people feasted.
Eku and Yathi helped themselves to roasted duiker heaped on boiled corms and tubers, sweetened with figs and berries.
A thick, communal stew came next, loaded with fist-sized chunks of catfish, sek-unda and other tasty morsels.
The people gathered en masse in the center of the encampment and took comfort in the hearty food after such a busy day.
Eku, Yathi and Kolo sat with Dala and Longo amidst waka-waka young people, settled on trampled grass, cross-legged, with bowls of stew on their laps.
The rain was light, cooling and not bothersome to humans, but enough to keep flying and biting insects under cover.
“What is this?”
A curious look on his face, Dala held up his eating knife. Stabbed on the end was a yellowish, dripping blob.
Eku leaned to peer close and said, “Gongthwana. But big.”
Dala pursed his lips and looked concerned so Eku added, “They grow into beetles.”
Relieved, Dala said the Bwana word for grubs, then agreed with Eku, adding, “It is very big.”
Yathi said, “For sure. The ones we eat at home, when we live in the forest—they do not grow by the ocean—they are not big like these.”
Kolo said, “That gongthwana grows into a beetle as big as my fist.” Held up a fist and pondered before adding, “Actually, bigger. They make a loud noise when they fly.”
Eku couldn’t help but smile when he said, “Maz likes gongthwana. She is good at finding them and is always digging them up and putting them into stew, but then she tries to find them before anyone else does.”
Yathi was quick to offer, “If you do not want to eat it, I will.”
But Dala’s jaw was already at work; though, he enthusiastically managed to exclaim through a mouthful, “Chewy!”
***
Dusk was balmy, but pleasant.
The rain stopped and voracious mosquitos emerged and the people coated themselves with a protective paste that mottled their skin. Despite so many individuals packed into one area, the tribe and its temporary roost of rounded shelters of branches and reeds blended as though part of the shoreline.
Ulayo blew steadily from the great lake to the north, as though sending her mother a kiss along with the excess water.
Above, the last puffy clouds sped along the same route.
Darkness came swift and complete.
Large fires had been prepared at the edge of each riverside barrier, temporarily covered by palm leaves to keep dry.
The palm leaves were removed and the fires began burning.
Smaller fires were built along the periphery to form an arc of flames on the side of the encampment that faced the forest.
Most nights, young people typically ate in two shifts.
First, a quick filling for an energy boost that sent everyone running about in a frenzy of playing, before another go-round filled bellies enough for relaxation and eventually, sleep.
Tonight, there was no running or playing.
Eku’s group remained seated or lying about in the center of camp, in the center of mixed familial groups, everyone continuing to nibble food and talk.
Eku, Yathi, Kolo, Dala and Longo made somewhat of a circle and sat cross-legged. Next to them were Maz, Tar, Sisi and Kat, followed by another group of young females.
Eku noticed Yat was not there and wondered where she could be.
Yathi said, “The scouts are still going into the forest, even though it is dark.”
“They are watching the bubinzwana,” Kolo said.
The young males gazed nervously about the encampment.
The bubinzwana were the only topic of conversation and everyone felt some level of fear.
Luckily, with so much activity and distractions, worry did not take hold amongst the young people.
There was clicking and soft talking and even laughter.
Eku’s grouping was closer to the barrier on the upriver side of the camp. He sat on his butt, on the dirt, feet together in front of him, facing the forest, so the shelters were behind, between the people and the water.
Eku noticed a brightening and leaned and turned his neck to look beyond the shelters, to see Yanga’s pale, half-circle sneaking over a hill on the far side of the river.
Turned back toward the forest and saw individual trees take shape.
As though waiting for the same signal, the background noise picked up: high-pitch trills of crickets and croaking frogs along the shoreline; the whining and buzzing of countless wing-rubbers.
The leafy branches of trees undulated to the fires’ flicker, as though the trees and flames had begun an ancient and long-rehearsed dance.
The hunters and nesibindi were gathering near the edge of the encampment.
Eku saw his father and Nibamaz, talking with Uta and Kafila.
Seeing his father, Eku looked for Krele, but she was nowhere to be seen and he wondered why both Yat and his mother were absent.
Yathi was beside him, Kolo on the other and he exclaimed excitedly, “We are all going to stay in the same shelter!”
“Yes,” Dala said, equally enthusiastic. “As long as we stay there all night.”
“We cannot leave to go to another shelter,” Longo said. “Not even to find a snack.”
“The shelters are big,” Yathi said. “That is why we made them that way. So we can all fit.”
“There will be others with us,” Dala said. “Waka-waka in all the shelters.”
Yathi said, “No adults in ours!”
He burped impressively and the young males grinned to show their admiration.
“We can tell stories,” Kolo said. “I can tell isipo of the yolumkono. Some of the stories are scary and some are funny.”
“A scary one would be good,” Dala said.
“No!” Yathi declared. “A funny one.”
Kolo shrugged and clicked twice, then looked at Eku and Yathi as though embarrassed, though both of them clicked back and smiled.
“We can tell both stories,” Eku said.
Dala said, “But we cannot shit alone.”
The other males looked sharply at him and he admonished, “You did not pay attention?” He looked at Eku for verification.
“Yes, we know,” Longo said morosely. “The dung pit is just one spot.” Shook his head at the inconvenience. “And we have to go with someone else.”
Yathi added, “My mother told me waka times already.”
Longo said, “My father said to hold it until morning.”
Yathi groaned. “I cannot do that. Shitting for me is the same as life. When shitting is meant to be, shitting happens.”
Everyone giggled.
“We might be here for more than one night,” Longo said. “My mother thinks it could be two or three nights.”
“This is the right spot,” Kolo added.
“Everyone keeps saying that,” Dala said. “What does that even mean?”
“I do not know,” Eku said. “But my father and Uta picked this spot. And that is good enough for me.”
***
There would be festivity after all.
A commotion rose from somewhere amongst the rounded shelters.
Because of the somber atmosphere, the sudden explosion of happy noises was so wonderful and unexpected that many stood to look.
The mothers were singing a simple chorus, but with an uplifting and cheerful feel:
he waits
she cuts her hair
female and male
uwama, umawa
The Abantu know this song well, having all heard it since the womb: a song for when a female emerges after cutting her hair.
For a moment, Eku was baffled, thinking that he saw a younger incarnation of his mother, but it was Yat walking out of the rows of shelters.
Behind her, Krele, Shona, Luvu and Nyama lead a parade of mothers, singing with gusto:
he waits
she cuts her hair
female and male
uwama, umawa
As soon as Yat emerged from the area of shelters she was mobbed by friends and females of all ages.
Everyone—even the Bwana and Mantel—joined the next chorus:
he waits
she cuts her hair
female and male
uwama, umawa
And they repeated, even louder the second time through.
Finally the people around her dissipate enough for Eku to see Yat holding hands with Dokuk.
He is filled with such happiness that he pushes past those around him and charges for his sister, practically knocking her over when he grabs hold of her in a spectacular hug.
Eku and Yat are the same height now and she staggered backward, laughing.
“Thank you little brother.”
Eku hugged Dokuk and found he had a close up view of a fish eagle talon.
There has been no formal presentation, but that does not change the fact that Dokuk was a hunter.
“You have a talon,” Eku breathed, stepping back.
Dokuk seemed oddly embarrassed and nodded at Eku in a peculiar way, without saying anything.
His eyes were red-rimmed and he kept looking at Yatyambo with such love that Eku felt his own tears begin to well.
Eku knows becoming a hunter means the same thing to Dokuk as it does for himself, but understands the sadness. There is pride, for sure, but it can only come out later, when the sadness fades.
Eku stepped aside to let other people through to offer congratulations.
Saw his mother wiping tears.
Shona, Nyama and Luvu and all the mothers had such happy looks.
Everyone knew Dokuk and Yat would be together.
It had only been a question of when.
Eku tried not to be jealous.
He is happy for Yat, of course.
And he already loved Dokuk, anyway.
And Dokuk was grieving terribly over Goguk.
Eku told himself it was silly to be jealous, especially since he can no longer even be a hunter.
Dokuk will no doubt find himself another, excellent hunting ikanabe.
***
As the celebration for Yat and Dokuk subsided, the crowd reshuffled.
Shona gathered Yathi, Eku, Kolo, Dala and Longo, all of them eager to see where they got to stay together, only to have Krele stop Eku at the outer row of shelters
She clicked for him to stay.
Yathi paused to linger, but Shona clicked him along with the others.
Krele reached up to rub the top of Eku's head with both hands.
Eku realized his eyes were above hers now.
“Tiuti wants you to stay. To listen. For as long as you can stay awake.”
Eku’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.
Shona came from the shelters to rejoin Krele and the two of them stepped away, to where waka-waka mothers were gathering.
Eku saw Kafila amidst the group and wondered where Ingwe was staying.
Probably in a shelter near Yathi’s, where all the young people were.
He realized everyone his age was in a shelter. Felt a pang of loneliness and was unsure of what to do with himself.
Decided to settle on the same area of grass where he had eaten, a bit back from where the adults were gathering near the large fire next to the upriver barrier.
A tribal council, Eku realized. This was going to be a tribal council! Something Eku had been waiting his whole life to attend.
But something he always thought he would be wearing an eagle talon in order to attend….
***
When Krele came over to where Eku sat he was grateful.
She knelt beside him and said, “Eku, I have to be upfront with the mothers. You can stay here. Or come up with us.”
He leaned and looked.
A large group of mothers—all of them, it looked like—had moved from the shelters to the area next to the big fire by the barrier, at the front of adults now sitting in a half circle.
Facing the crowd, Eku saw Uta, Kafila, Tiuti and Wutota, directly in front of where the mothers were sitting.
His father, Nibamaz and the other, most experienced hunters were to one side of the front four.
Many people were gathered and those seated now reached almost to where Eku had planted himself down.
“We will be talking soon,” Krele said. “Like we do in tribal council.”
Eku wanted to sit with his mother, to be up close, but … not with all the other mothers around.
Thought that would look silly.
Besides, from this vantage, he was still close enough to see his father and Uta enough to distinguish facial expressions.
“I will stay here,” he said.
Krele nodded and kissed his head and headed back to the front, where the mothers were seated at the front.
Eku adjusted himself into a cross-legged position just as Yat was suddenly hovering over.
She clicked and Eku clicked back, a little louder than intended, as the sight of her in short hair was still a shock.
Uncrossed his legs quickly and sprang up.
Hugged her.
“Two times in one night,” she said happily. Beamed and said, “You are silly.”
Yat then smiled in a way that made Eku think of Ingwe. “I am proud of you, little brother. Just as I am proud of Dokuk. Both of you have been honored, yet, both of you are sad.
“Maybe you will not be so sad when we have time for a formal presentation. When Dokuk is named a hunter and you, my little brother, a future izik-ikiz.”
Eku could only stare blankly, still bewildered by how things had changed.
He and Yat sat to watch the proceedings.
***
Though it was nighttime, Eku could easily pick out sharp details.
The campfires were burning bright.
He looked up to see low hanging clouds speed past Yanga’s pale, half circle, smoky shadows racing through a dark field of stars.
Wondered how the clouds could move so fast, while on the ground, Ulayo’s breath remained soft.
Maybe because of the mountains?
Or maybe because that was just the way that life worked: moving so fast from a distance, but up close, plodding along.
Eku thought of when the pilgrimage began.
He was so small, even though at the time, he did not think that way.
He was not so small anymore.
Not big yet, like his father, but Eku relished the newfound strength in his body.
There are times that he is awed by what is happening.
Feeling proud!
The muscles of his thighs and chest and shoulders were … actually muscles now!
And he had waited so long for hair to appear around his penis and now … there it was, every time! As though it had actually been there all along.
The tribal council began with Tiuti presenting a gift to Kafila.
An ax, brilliantly crafted, the haft longer than normal, carved from a thick piece of wood that tapered to an easy-to-grasp handle, while the thicker end held a bored opening for an adze-shaped blade of isipo-gazi, fitted perfectly, but secured permanently by cordage and sinew glue.
Kafila was visibly moved.
Such a weapon would have taken much time.
She wore splendidly colored skins of red and orange and hugged Tiuti.
Kafila turned to the people seated or standing and raised the ax over her head, so that everyone could admire its beauty.
Better seeing the length of the handle and shape of the blade, Eku realized its purpose.
That was not an ax for the tasks of harvest.
Not for butchering or chopping wood.
The ax was a weapon, designed to kill.
Kafila brought the ax down and playfully ran a finger across the cutting age, drawing her hand away quickly to lick the finger, smiling.
There was laughter and Eku thought of Ingwe’s wonderful sense of humor combined with an edgy toughness.
Kafila, he knew, would be in charge of the mothers in case of an attack.
The older mothers were the last line of defense, and would be stationed in front of the outermost row of shelters.
Eku watched Kafila for a moment.
Realizing she was radiantly pretty, like Ingwe, just older.
He remembered what Ingwe told him about Kafila being nesibindi.
Watched her closely as she adjusted the wrap of orange and red around her shoulders and sat beside Uta, the ax on her lap.
Yes, Eku thought.
He saw the amazing bee eater bird.
Her beauty was her feathers and the ax was the sharp beak that completed the incarnation of an elegant, but deadly hunter.
***
Eku and Yat were engrossed by the proceedings.
There was much discussion about how the camp would be defended in an attack.
Which, best as Eku could tell, was all but guaranteed to happen as the Mantel and Abantu scouts continued to go in and out of the forest.
Each time a pair returned, they went straight to his father and Nibamaz, who relayed what they were told to others.
Eku noted izik-kosa and hunters with a single talon amongst those in the crowd around them. He found Dokuk, sitting next to Kozik and other young hunters with a single talon.
Yat said, “I am scared.”
“Me too,” was all Eku could come up with, even though he did not feel afraid.
At least not yet.
Someone from the group of mothers spoke loudly.
“How do we know they are going to come here?”
Kafila answered, “We do not know. For sure. But we know enough of their behavior. They are showing preparations for an attack.”
“Can you tell us how you know,” the mother’s voice insisted.
Eku and Yat were proud when Kaleni stepped forward from the high ranking hunters.
They could see many in the crowd lean forward, eager to hear what he had to say.
Kaleni did look impressive, Eku thought.
He held his magnificent javelin vertically at the side, resting the hilt on the ground so he did not have to bear its weight.
The weapon, carved and crafted by Tiuti himself, rose twice his height, the blade long and wicked and sharp enough to slice hair.
He wore a genet loincloth and leopard-skin belt. An ax hung on either hip.
Kaleni bowed to the mothers.
“Two nights ago the bubinzwana set up camp away from the river,” he said. “And tonight they are in the same spot. They have not done that until now. We track where they make camp so we know.
“Normally, they stay close to the water, as we do. They move. Every night. Here, they did not. They are camped up on the mountain because they are waiting for us.”
“You know this.”
It was another mother’s voice, loud and filled with fear.
“Yes.”
A voice called, “Maybe they moved away from the river to avoid us? Maybe they are the ones who should be afraid.”
“Yes, they are the ones who should be hiding,” one of the young hunters said.
Kaleni clicked sternly, out of habit, then shook his head no.
“There is no way to conceal the footprint of so many bodies,” he explained. “They are not hiding. Neither of us can hide from the other. Both of our tribes are far too large to hide.”
A person called, “This land is so bountiful. Why would they hunt us?”
Kaleni glanced at Uta and Kafila as many voices suddenly rose as questions flew back and forth.
Uta stood and the talking stopped.
Kaleni retreated to where the other hunters stood.
Uta said, “The bubinzwana do not stalk us for food.”
A voice called, “For what then?”
Uta remained quiet.
The entire group of people became silent with him.
Finally, the Bwana leader shrugged his broad shoulders and said, “We will get to that.”
***
Uta sat back down and the council continued with much talking.
Preparations were made and every adult had a duty in the event of an attack.
Eku was growing sleepy and found it difficult to concentrate.
It was hard to hear everything and his mind started to drift when a voice called, “What are they like?”
Uta once more looked to Kaleni, who motioned to one of his hunters.
Juka was the same height as Kaleni, but stockier.
Eku had always admired his strong and sturdy legs.
He handed his javelin to another hunter and stepped forward.
Juka proudly wore three eagle talons and was renowned for his tracking skills.
“From a distance, you think they are human,” Juka said. “But they are thicker, especially here.”
He motioned to his hips. “Much bigger than we are here,” and slapped the big muscles of his thighs. “They are shorter than us, but thicker and heavier.”
He slapped his thighs again, which Eku had always found impressive, adding, “Only the males are big. The females are not.”
Kafila called out, “But the females are as vicious and aggressive as the males, as we found out when we attacked their camp. We killed many of them when they attacked back at us.”
A mother asked, “But are they truly the same as us?”
Juka shrugged. “They have the same body parts. Males and females. But the females are smaller.”
“Our females are smaller,” a young hunter said from the crowd.
Juka said, “Yes, but bubinzwana males are much bigger than the females. Like baboons.”
“They are ugly like a baboon’s ass,” one of the hunters called.
“But you like baboon ass,” another hunter called back.
Yat giggled and Eku joined her.
There were snickers all over and crude jokes about baboon and monkey butts.
Because of the tension, people laughed a bit loud.
A bit shrill.
Eku noticed Uta and Kafila beginning to look at those gathered before them with looks of concern.
Juka backed to where the Abantu hunters were grouped.
There continued to be much chattering.
Voices calling back and forth….
“They are hairy and ugly.”
“They have big yellow teeth.”
“They smell like fresh buffalo shit.”
“They are stupid and have thick skulls!”
“Do not club them in the head. They will only laugh as if tickled.”
“To kill them, stab them in the belly or throat!”
Yat was visibly upset and no longer laughing, but Eku was enthralled.
He rose up on his knees to see better and try to hear.
One of the nesibindi called, “On the savannah, we can easily outrun the bubinzwana. But they are very fast for a short distance—faster than us. Like a lion.”
“With the river behind us there is nowhere to escape?”
“We are trapped here, no?”
“Yes, but we are the trap.”
That was when Eku saw Uta stand up to begin pacing.
***
Uta was filled with anger.
The kind of anger that comes from fear.
He knows what is coming.
Nearly everyone else does not.
His young nesibindi have never fought a bubinzwana.
And the Abantu and Mantel?
Their forest skills were remarkable, exceeding even the leopard, but one cannot judge the true nature of a beast until they have fought one.
The Abantu have faith in their hunters and fearsome weapons.
Uta has seen enough to know it is for good reason.
But there was too much confidence.
Everyone must understand this danger.
Because their success—their survival!—was based on everyone performing a key role.
Uta stalked back and forth, fists clenched, the muscles of his arms corded.
When he turned toward Eku, the pink areas of the scar shined in a way that conjured blood and he was glad to be sitting far away.
The talking subsided, leaving the snap and pop of the fires; the background whine of insects.
Everyone watched Uta, who finally stopped pacing.
Stood quiet for a moment, wearing his zebra loincloth and ornate necklace of claws and fangs.
Looking impressive, Eku thought. A true chieftain.
Deliberately, he looked over the crowd as though to find the gaze of every individual.
Finally, Uta offered the barest of nods and raised a hand to point to the scar with a forefinger and said, “A bubinzwana did this to me.”
He opened the pointing hand with the palm out, splayed fingers and thumb.
“A bubinzwana did this to me with a hand like mine, but nails hard like claws.”
Eku barely heard the crackle of the fire, so focused was he, like everyone on the Bwana leader.
Uta’s voice cut hard across the balmy air.
“A bubinzwana did this to me with a blow of his hand!”
Pointed to the scar again, adding, “When I was at my strongest.”
Bowed his head to remember, but quickly shook, as though to be rid of the thoughts conjured.
“The bubinzwana kill,” Uta said. “That is what they do. That is all they do. All they know to do. They are killers. Like hyenas, but worse.”
He crouched and motioned powerfully with his arms as though stabbing with a spear and said in a harsh tone, “They charge swiftly forward like lions and thrust with wooden spears.”
He made additional, violent stabbing motions and Eku could see the muscles of Uta’s strong arms bulge with the effort.
“I have seen them do this,” he said in almost a shout. “A single thrust skewering through a strong Bwana, into his stomach and out of his back.”
Uta threw up his hands as though to grab someone by the throat, adding in a savage voice that made many wince and pull back, “And as you die, they seize you and bite ferociously at your neck and face.”
He demonstrated by snapping his teeth and there are looks of horror, even amongst the hunters.
Uta nodded with lips pulled tight.
Eku thought the scar had somehow grown more vivid, glowing in the firelight, the memory of terrible past battles coming to life on his face.
The Bwana chieftain looked more ferocious than any person Eku had ever seen, but apparently, the bubinzwana were more ferocious.
As though answering Eku’s question, Uta said, “The weakest male bubinzwana is stronger than our strongest. The largest are very powerful. Very dangerous. Very hard to kill.”
He looked over the tribe, again trying to find as many eyes as possible.
“I have seen the bubinzwana do things my mind could never imagine without my eyes showing me.”
Paused, as if reluctant to continue, but knowing he must.
“The bubinzwana killed the people of ichi-Bwana and ate them. Cooked and ate them in the same villages in which they lived.
“They killed the people of my village. My family. When I was a young male. I was one of few to survive because I was able to flee with others.”
He nodded at the pain he saw in the faces of his people and appreciated their empathy, but this was no time to be soft.
“The bubinzwana hunted and ate the linwelewana,” Uta said. “They captured the linwelewana to bring back to their camp for entertainment. To let the young males play with them by practice hunting.
“Over and over and over until the linwelewana simply died of fright.”
Uta gestured toward the darkness of the forest, away from the river and said, “The bubinzwana will come for us. Here. Tomorrow. Or the next day.
“You ask why?”
He paused, one last time.
Took another step forward so that he was hovering over the front row of mothers.
“The bubinzwana hunt us to take our youngest back to their camps for the females, who will fight over who gets to distribute the tender meat from the bodies.”
There were visceral reactions and some of the people sobbed.
Bringing everyone’s heart to their throats, Uta said, “They hunt us for our young females. They intend to capture them and bring them back to their camps. Keep them for their own pleasure.
“That is what the bubinzwana intend to do if we do not stop them.
“So we will stop them here, at this place.”
***
Yat cried softly beside Eku, who was awestruck.
Eku knew Yat was worried about Dokuk, being a hunter now.
Fascination, curiosity and wonder were so profound that Eku had no room left for terror.
He really wasn’t sure what to think of the bubinzwana.
He imagined them as some kind of large, baboon-like beast. Maybe with a kind of a human body? Or face?
Or maybe they would look like a linwelewana, only larger.
That would be very scary.
“I am going to lie down in a shelter where Tar and Maz are,” Yat said. She sniffled and surprised Eku by leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Ingwe is in the same shelter as me. See you in the morning little brother.”
Eku watched Yat until she faded past the first row of shelters closer to the upriver barrier.
The council continued and voices were often low and again Eku had difficulty following.
Suddenly his eyes snapped open.
Horrified, Eku realized he was falling asleep!
No way can he allow that!
This was far too interesting.
Eku tried to focus, but then it was dark again.
***
The next thing Eku realized, Krele was rubbing his shoulders, coaxing him into wakefulness.
Slumped over with his chin on his chest in a cross-legged seated position, Eku raised his head and automatically started to protest, but a series of soft clicks from his mother told him not to bother.
Besides, his mother’s hands rubbing his shoulders felt so good that his eyes were already growing heavy again.
“Come with me to the closest hut,” she said in his favorite mother’s voice.
“Where is Yat,” Eku mumbled.
“She is in the same shelter as Ingwe. You can see them later. For now, come stay in the small shelter on the outside. It is for the mothers, if we have a chance to rest. But I put your bed mat down. And your ula-konto is in there.”
Eku smiled. “How did you know to do that?”
She smiled. “We left this one hut empty. For you and any mothers who may need it before Ulanga rises.”
Eku stood and followed his mother, who told him, “I will be coming to lie down with you soon. But first, there are things we must finish.”
“What other things?”
Krele shook her head, but the movement was lost in the low light.
“You are not done talking?”
“No. Almost. Come, you can still hear from the shelter.”
***
The shelter that Eku crawled into was smaller than the others. More toward the downriver side of the encampment and fitted into a space about halfway down the outer row.
As soon as he is in the dark the fatigue hits hard.
He found his bed mat through a familiar feel and laid down. Checked to make sure his ula-konto was beside him.
It was.
His mom really was the best.
Immediately the bubinzwana appeared in his imagination, as some kind of phantom.
Like a baboon?
Like a linwelewana?
Like a human?
Eku was surprised to not feel afraid.
Decided to focus instead on his new favorite daydream—thinking of Ingwe and her blue pendant and his fish eagle talon becoming intertwined while they lay together.
Only now that will not happen now!
Well, maybe not the necklace part.
Hopefully.
Eku felt suddenly sad.
Was it because of Goguk?
Or because he was alone.
Painfully he found himself missing Yat and Yathi, as though part of his body were missing.
Felt tears well up and was glad of the dark, even though he was alone.
Only Ulayo sees in the dark, Krele had always told him when they lay together and Eku was afraid.
“And genets and owls,” he always said back, because she laughed every time.
Maybe the dark makes us a little silly, too, Eku thought.
No.
Fear makes us silly.
He thought of the nesibindi who sacrificed himself.
So brave.
The vubu would have killed others. Perhaps even Yathi or Yat or himself.
“We serve the tribe,” he whispered into the dark.
Eku lay in the pitch black, the murmurings of many voices all around.
Reached once more to check his ula-konto.
Sat bolt upright.
Spine rigid.
Horrified at the thought of giving away his ula-konto to another, aspiring hunter.
But that was tradition, after all.
When someone changed their course of apprenticeship, they gave away their tools.
All actions are to the benefit of the tribe.
Eku was learning the meaning in a whole different way.
But the thought of giving away his ula-konto was simply too gut wrenching to bear.
He had practiced so long and so hard.
Eku had splintered so many wooden spears that uncle Lume introduced Eku to the intricacies of wood carving so he could carve his own wooden spears.
Lume even told Eku he had gotten pretty good at it and joked about him becoming izik-kosa.
The day finally came when Eku demonstrated such throwing prowess and accuracy that Lume readily agreed to carve him a genuine ula-konto—with bone for the killing end, as Eku was still growing into an adult.
Eku proudly remembered overhearing Lume tell Krele that Eku, tiny as he was, was frighteningly accurate with a spear.
Uncle Lume carved Eku, a truly magnificent weapon.
A smaller, lighter version of what a real hunter would use.
Perfectly balanced for Eku.
Lethal.
Completely wide awake now, Eku wondered if he should go back to the fire to be with the adults?
No.
Mother wanted him to stay here.
***
It was nearly dawn when Krele crawled inside to find Eku asleep.
Backed out on all fours and rose to face Kaleni, waiting.
They walked from the cluster of shelters into the open area.
The night sky remained clear, well lit by Yanga and many stars.
River crickets were fiercely trying to outplay the competition.
Around them, the camp appeared deserted.
The arc of fires along the periphery burned steadily, illuminating the interior of the encampment, but the dark outline of the forest was a darkened mystery.
Krele and Kaleni looked at each other with a kind of hunger.
Their features were stiff; emotions raw.
Kaleni asked, “Asleep?”
Krele offered a terse nod. “Do you want to see him?”
“Not now. There is not enough time. Are you going to stay with him or remain outside?”
Krele clicked that she was undecided.
“There is still time for you to rest,” Kaleni urged. “Go back with Eku. At least lie down until Ulanga begins to rise. We are fine until then.”
Krele looked back across the rows of shelters, able to map in her mind where everyone was sleeping.
She knew it had been a filling meal and all of the children were asleep or comfortable with the young mothers.
She could wake Eku and squeeze him into one of the larger, inner shelters.
Looked at Kaleni and said, “We are safe here. Yes?”
Kaleni clicked yes.
“Then I will stay here with him until Ulanga rises. It will not be long. You know how he is once he wakes up. He needs rest.”
Kaleni nodded and kept his face neutral.
Krele no longer hid the fear. Bitterly she said, “They are coming.”
“Yes.”
Kaleni put hands on her shoulders and sighed. Shook his head at the frustration of such a brief moment. Yearning for his feelings to simply jump into her mind, so that Krele would know how much he loved her.
How much he has loved her every moment since she cut her hair for him.
Krele and Kaleni have been together for many cycles.
Endured and triumphed.
Which was why she understood that he must do what a hunter does.
Krele touched her mate’s face tenderly. The tips of her fingers brushed his nose and mouth, caressed his throat and went to his chest to slide aside the four eagle talons so she could place her lips against skin, whispering, “I will sing in my mind for you come back to us, as you always have.”
Kaleni put fingers to Krele’s chin, raised her face and kissed her.
“When something is meant to be, something happens.”
Kaleni left and Krele went back to the shelter and crawled inside to lay beside Eku.
She even managed to fall asleep.
Briefly.
Her and Eku woke when the bubinzwana attacked at dawn.