Chapter 16

Beyond the Cliff of Skulls

Beyond the cliff of skulls the ridgeline changed course, veering away from the river, which continued in a straight line north.

The expanse of the center channel was now wide, the opposite shore a dark green line of forested bumps.

The tribe settled on an old inlet from a time the water rose higher, an ideal location, sheltered by the hills to one side, the water on the other.

Once past the cliff of skulls, the ridgeline stretched away from the river, leaving the flattened inlet shaped like one side of an antelope print.

Now overgrown by hardwood saplings and grassy islands of palm.

As the ridgeline continued to angle away from the river, the further hills began to rise; a lone massif, maybe tall enough to be a mountain, loomed over the encampment, heavily forested as to appear dark and ominous.

Closer to camp, sturdy river reeds grew to the upriver side and would serve splendidly for shelters.

The wide and flat shoreline was enriched by the runoff of the forested hills and featured dark soil, speckled with pale stones.

A furred margin of shiny green water grass grew to a uniform edge, where the center channel deepened.

***

Establishing camp was like harvest: every able bodied person participated.

A steady rain fell as the izik-kosa attacked the grove of saplings at the edge of the old inlet, where the ridgeline sloped closest to the river.

The small trees were stripped of crowns to make flexible poles that Eku and Yathi helped transport to the center of camp.

They separated waka-waka vines, useful for construction and pulled brush to the barriers forming at each end of camp, alongside the very edge of the water.

When the izik-kosa headed to the upriver side where the tall swamp reeds grew, Eku and Yathi and many other young people followed to take part in a steady procession that transferred bundles of reeds from that end of the inlet, to the center where mothers and benzi-kusela secured flexible rods into rounded frames.

Young hunters slashed away at the periphery of camp, downing overhead limbs to enhance visibility past the first layer of mature forest.

Eku and Yathi dragged still more brush to pile onto the opposing barriers along the water.

A solid barrier now blocked both a downriver and upriver approach into the encampment.

While Ulanga remained above the mountain, waka-waka young people swarmed across the area, gathering every stick dead and dry enough to burn; collecting browned and brittled palm leaves, and even stacks of dry water reeds to add to piles of layit-umlilo, kept under a covering of palm leaves to remain out of the rain.

The day was already unusually long and everyone was tired; yet, there remained much to do.

The rain continued, but had at least lightened.

Good fortune continued with harvest, enormous catfish simply drifting into the shallows to be easily speared.

Yathi, who generally enjoyed all things fishing, was unhappy when the only work for him and Eku was hauling the carcasses to a gutting location—and then doing the gutting.

Slimy and smelly work that would require scrubbing and a fresh loincloth after.

“The fish here are silly,” Yathi said.

“For sure,” Eku mumbled, pensive and lost in thought.

He and Yathi were on the downriver end of camp with waka-waka young people.

They squatted a short distance into the water, ankle deep in trampled water grass, huddled over a giant catfish carcass.

Throwing entrails toward the open water to drift away.

They used short, bone hafts with blades on each end: an adze shaped end for slicing through scales and bone, and a chisel end for scraping away the entrails.

Setting his tool in the grassy and muddy water, Yathi used both hands to yank on a fat intestine.

Grimaced and said, “Why do these giant fish just swim up to where we can spear them? That is silly.”

Eku leaned back.

Wiped the bone tool in the water with one hand while tugging his muddy loincloth with the other.

Stayed on his haunches, peering along the smooth gray skin, to a gill he could fit his hand through and the eye, large and round.

Big eyes, Eku thought, for seeing in the dark water of this river.

Took a moment to watch raindrops splatter off the thin, but incredibly strong transparent layer of tissue that protects the eye.

Probably the same type of tissue that protects the eyes of all beasts.

Even humans.

Invisible, so that we can see through.

A part of flesh that became permanently ibe-bonakalio. Somehow.

He considered Yathi’s question.

Set a hand down in the muddy water and leaned close.

Saw his face reflected on the otherwise invisible covering of an enormous black pupil.

Said, “There are no Abantu here. Nor other predators that hunt from shore. So they have not learned to fear us.”

***

Once again the land changed dynamically; this time in favor of the people’s palette.

Surrounding the encampment were fig trees, tasty berries and bushes with yellow sek-unda.

Such a wealthy harvest usually led to spontaneous feasting and celebration, but the people worked silently, knowing no such frivolity awaited.

Mothers snapped off commands in voices brittle with stress.

Unsure of what to do, Eku and Yathi tagged along with Yat, Tar and Maz.

Everyone in the camp couldn’t help but keep an eye on the select Abantu and Mantel hunters going in and out of the forest, in the direction of the mountain.

There was an over abundance of food so they were not hunting.

Eku and Yathi followed the older females to a patch of tasty berries, the bushes on the downriver edge of the camp, where the land began to rise, the base of which was now speckled by the pale stumps of waka-waka-waka saplings.

Somewhere in the hills above the encampment, Eku heard monkeys scream in a way none of them had ever heard.

Certainly a new species and from the depth and volume of sound—large.

He wondered what Yat and Yathi thought, but no one seemed to have paid attention.

Yathi was a notoriously slow berry picker—unable to stop from eating more berries than he picked—but today he was downright miserable, accomplishing little.

Not even snacking.

His gaze kept wandering to where the mountain rose behind them.

Yat generally took advantage of any opportunity to chastise Yathi, but remained silent, staying busy plucking berries to deposit in a grass basket.

Unaware that he was even doing it, Yathi clicked softly and steadily. Nervous.

“Try not to worry,” Yat finally snapped.

But then she saw Tar looking in the same direction as Yathi, also with a frightened look.

Tar asked, “What are they doing?”

Yat said, “They are watching for the bubinzwana.”

“I know, but why?”

Eku, like Yat and Maz, kept himself occupied by plucking berries, saod, “They are the most skilled scouts. As good as father and Nibamaz.”

Maz added, “So they are keeping track of where the beasts are.”

Yathi and Tar clicked with worry

Thinking that he was explaining, Eku added, “We track them and they track 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.”

Tar exclaimed, “The bubinzwana have hunters? Like us!”

Eku clicked yes.

Yathi said, “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 a bit of humor.

Yat and Maz smiled, but Tar and Yathi only looked more worried.

***

The rounded shelters were finished.

Evenly spaced.

Dotted across a roughly oval area upon silt and grass at the very center of the encampment.

Water reeds tightly woven across the ribs of domed frames to enclose each dwelling.

Palm leaves laid across the top for waterproofing.

The encampment was large and plenty of space lay between the shelters and the barricades at both ends of camp.

The barricades were large and spilled into the water grass along the shallows of the river, a mash of branches and bush fortified with limbs sharpened into spikes.

After so much intense work, the entire tribe was voracious.

Roofing was erected over fire pits.

While the food cooked, young people scoured the encampment perimeter for a final gathering of layit-umlilo.

When at last Ulanga slipped behind the mountain, a feast was ready.

Eku and Yathi helped themselves to roasted duiker heaped on boiled corms and tubers, sweetened with figs and berries.

A communal stew was brewed in a pit lined with clay and leaves and everyone enjoyed bowls of catfish with sek-unda and other tasty morsels gathered from this wonderfully abundant land.

Comradery and good food were a true comfort after the busiest day of the pilgrimage.

The people gathered en masse across the center of the encampment, an open area in front of the shelters.

Eku, Yathi and Kolo settled with Dala and Longo amidst waka-waka young people, 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 an eating stick: stabbed on the end, a yellowish, dripping blob.

Eku leaned to peer close and said, “Gongthwana. Very 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, saying, “It is very big.”

“For sure,” Yathi said. “The ones we eat at home? When we live in the forest—they do not grow by the ocean—we eat gongthwana like this, but not as big.”

Kolo said with some enthusiasm, “That gongthwana that lives here? It grows into a beetle as big as my fist.”

Held up his hand and made a fist, squinted with one eye and pondered before adding, “Actually, bigger. They make a loud noise when they fly.”

Eku couldn’t help but smile and 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 muddied their skin.

Despite so many individuals packed into one area, the tribe and its temporary roost of dimpled shelters blended into the forested background as though a natural part of the shoreline.

Ulayo blew steadily from the great lake to the north, as though to send her mother a kiss along with the excess water.

Above, the last puffy clouds whisked along the same route.

When Ulanga disappeared behind the mountain, nightfall came swift.

Large fires close to the barriers at each end of camp began to burn.

Fire pits, previously dug and packed with layit-umlilo and kept under cover from the rain, formed an arc along the periphery.

Flames were added and gray smoke rose.

Dark gray clouds discharged from each fire collected over the encampment to eventually form a single large cloud that billowed slowly over the rounded shelters before grabbed by Ulayo’s breath to rapidly spread outward and join the fast falling darkness.

The people covered faces and mouths, not minding the momentary inconvenience, as the smoke discouraged emerging insects.

Once the moisture of the layit-umlilo burned away, the flames turned yellow and the smoke was only a smell or memory.

The larger fires that flanked each of the barricades continued to burn steadily, with logs added to ensure steady burning into the night, while the arc of fire pits were allowed to settle to orange coals, which would also be maintained through the night.

On most evenings, young people ate in two shifts.

First, a quick filling for an energy boost to send everyone into a frenzy of playing, before another go-round filled bellies enough for sleep.

Tonight, there was no running or playing.

Besides, after so much physical work, it was an evening best spent relaxing with familial groups.

The people continue to nibble food and talk, the youngest clustered at the center of the encampment.

Adults hovered in front of the shelters or along the periphery and close to the large fires at either end.

The tribe was solidly together, but separated into functioning parts.

Older adults watched over their children with concern.

Younger adults yet to bear children watched the forest with concern.

For the youngest, in the center and away from the fires, the light was low, but enough so they could make out each other’s features.

Eku, Yathi, Kolo, Dala and Longo made somewhat of a circle, sitting cross-legged.

Next to their group were Maz, Tar, Sisi and Kat, surrounded by other groups of young people.

Eku noticed Yat was not there and wondered where she might be.

Holding a half-filled melon husk that held pieces of catfish, Yathi waved his free hand at the forest and said, “The scouts are still going in there.”

“They are watching the bubinzwana,” Kolo said.

He plucked a fig berry from the sack of hide on his lap and popped it into his mouth, then joined Yathi pointing past the arc of fires.

All day long the bubinzwana were the topic of conversation.

Everyone felt some level of fear.

Or at least curiosity.

With so much activity and distractions, worry had not taken root amongst those young.

Eku’s group was closer to the barrier on the upriver side; he sat like the others, on his butt, feet crossed in front at the ankles.

Facing the forest and the mountain, Eku noticed a brightening and turned to look.

Over the rounded tops of the shelters and across the river, Yanga’s pale face snuck over a dark hill.

Turned back and saw where the hunters and nesibindi stood or sat alongside the arc of fires.

His father and Nibamaz were there, talking with Uta and Kafila.

Beyond the encampment, Yanga’s fresh light brought individual trees to form.

As though waiting for the same signal, cicadas and crickets gained momentum.

From stands of water grass and swamp reeds came the croaking of frogs and the buzzing of countless wing rubbers and body shakers.

Ulayo’s soft breath made some of the bladed leaf palm leaves wave just beyond the arc of fire pits, but the forest beyond remained dark and forbidding.

Eku looked again where his father stood with Uta and Kafila.

Wondered about mother.

Krele was nowhere to be seen … The same as Yat.

Returning his attention to the group, Yathi exclaimed, “We are all going to stay in the same shelter!”

“Oh yes,” said Dala, seated next to Longo, across from Eku and Yathi, adding, “That will be good.”

Enthusiastic, Longo leaned his shoulder against Dala and added, “As long as we start in the same shelter, we get to stay together all night!”

“But that is not all,” Yathi exclaimed, “Once we pick where we are staying, we cannot leave to go to another shelter. Not even to find a snack!”

He seemed to ponder with a bit of concern, then brightened and threw up both hands, almost spilling his bowl of fish chunks, adding, “But there will be snacks in the huts already because we harvested so much extra so who cares!”

“The shelters are very big,” Kolo agreed. “Maybe 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.”

There were groans of disappointment and guesses to whom it might be.

Yathi declared, “Just no adults in ours!”

“And no farting!” Kolo called.

Yathi grinned and responded by burping impressively, which the young males acknowledged 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.

“But we cannot shit alone,” Dala declared.

Kolo groaned and said, “The dung pit is in only one spot!”

The young males shook their heads at the contrived inconvenience, Dala adding, “And we have to go with someone else!”

Yathi said, “My mother told me waka-waka times already.”

Longo said, “My father said to hold it until morning.”

Now Yathi groaned, saying, “I cannot do that. Shitting for me is the same as life.”

He glanced at Eku and smirked, before adding, “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 said.

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Dala said. “What does that even mean?”

They all looked at Eku, who shrugged and answered, “I do not know, but my father and Uta picked this spot.”

Thought for a moment, then added, “I heard my father say this is the right place. That it is embi-kulunge.”

Yathi groaned again, saying, “Another one of those life things. I just hope the bubinzwana stay away. That would be the best.”

***

There would be festivity after all.

A commotion rose from amongst the rounded shelters.

Because of the somber atmosphere, a sudden explosion of happy noises brought the entire tribe to its feet.

Mothers singing a simple chorus, with a vibrant, uplifting tone:

he waits

she cuts her hair

female to male

Uwama, Umawa!

Every Abantu knows this song.

Having 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 from amongst the shelters.

Behind her, Krele, Shona, Luvu and Nyama lead a parade of mothers, their arms are raised and their fingers wave in the air as they sing with gusto:

he waits

she cuts her hair

female to male

Uwama, Umawa!

Yat came away from the shelters and was mobbed by Abantu of all ages.

Everyone—even the Bwana and Mantel—joined the next chorus:

he waits

she cuts her hair

female to male

Uwama, Umawa!

And they repeated, even louder the second time through.

Finally the people around dissipate and Eku sees Yat holding hands with Dokuk.

Filled with such happiness, he pushed past those around him and charged for his sister, practically knocking her over with a spectacular hug.

They are the same height now and Yat staggered backward, laughing.

“Thank you little brother.”

Eku released his sister and hugged Dokuk, only to find he had a close up view of a fish eagle talon.

There has been no formal presentation, but that did not change that Dokuk is a hunter.

“You have an eagle talon,” Eku breathed, stepping back.

Dokuk nodded in a peculiar way, without saying anything.

His eyes were red-rimmed and he looked at Yatyambo with such love that Eku felt his own tears begin to well.

Eku knows that becoming a hunter means the same to Dokuk as it does for himself, but he understands the sadness.

There is pride, for sure, but it can only come out later, when the sadness of missing Goguk 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 have such happy looks.

Everyone knew Dokuk and Yat were going to be mated together.

It had only been a question of when.

Eku tried not to be jealous.

He was happy for Yat and Dokuk, of course.

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.

Mothers gathered children for shelter deployment.

Excitement amongst the young people led to good-natured trash talk between potential shelter groupings.

Everyone was eager to see which of the big huts would be theirs.

Eku, Yathi, Kolo, Dala and Longo stuck close behind their mothers, who all knew they wanted to be together and had planned accordingly.

Eku was just beginning to look forward to a different kind of fun at night, when he saw his mother waiting at the outer row of shelters, the line of her gaze no doubt singling him out.

She clicked at Eku to stop even though she didn’t have to.

When Yathi paused to linger with him, Krele and Shona both clicked for him to go with the others.

Eku looked curiously at his mother.

“Tiuti wants you to stay,” she said. “To listen. For as long as you can stay awake.”