Chapter 17

Tribal Council

//

Eku saw Uta sat with Kafila.

His father and Nibamaz.

When Shona returned from the shelters, she said, “Eku I must step away for a moment.”

“Can you wait here until I check back with you?”

Eku nodded, looking at where he had been sitting just moments ago and said he would wait over there.

It seemed everyone was gathering around that area, anyway.

Krele and Shona headed away to where Eku saw them join Luvu and Nyama and other mothers.

Saw Kafila was with the mothers and talking animatedly.

Wondered where Ingwe was staying.

Felt a silly pang of jealousy.

Everyone his age was in a shelter.

A tribal council, Eku realized, suddenly excited.

For real!

Something Eku had been waiting his whole life to attend; of course, he always expected a fish eagle talon to earn admission.

Again Eku found sadness in conflict with the excitement of … Well, whatever was coming next.

***

After the short meeting with Kafila, Krele left the group of mothers to return to Eku.

The crowd had been larger and it seemed that everyone not young enough to be a shelter was now present.

Many young adults sat around Eku.

He recognized every tribe member by sight now, even the Bwana.

Some faces were not that familiar but they were one of his own.

Still, Eku was super glad to see his mother and let her know with a big smile when she approached, which she returned.

She sat beside him on the dirt, close enough to that when she leaned and spoke, her shoulder touched his.

“Eku, I have to be upfront with the mothers,” Krele said into his ear. “You can stay here. Or come up with us.”

Disappointed, hoping she would stay there with him, he looked to the front where the mothers were seated.

A large group of mothers, both Abantu and Bwana, near the big fire by the barrier, angled so they faced Uta, Kafila, Tiuti and Wutota.

He saw to the side closer to the fire his father, Nibamaz and other experienced hunters.

Tokuta and Kotuta and other nesibindi stood to the side away from the mothers.

Many people were gathered.

Rows of people seated on the ground stretched almost to where Eku was seated.

He looked at his mother, asking, “This a tribal council?”

“Yes, something like that,” Krele said. “We will be talking.”

Eku looked over her shoulder again.

He wanted to sit with his mother, but … not with all the other mothers around.

Thought he would look silly … like a child.

Figured his present vantage was good enough.

“I will stay here,” he said.

Krele nodded and kissed his head and headed back to the front.

Eku adjusted to a cross-legged position, only to have Yat suddenly looming 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 and sprang up to hug his sister.

“Two times in one night,” she said happily.

Beamed and said, “You are silly.”

“I am happy for you,” Eku said.

She smiled warmly. “And 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.”

She touched Eku on the shoulder and looked at him knowingly.

“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 much everything had changed.

Again.

But he sure was happy to sit with Yat.

Yanga had ridden his way into the sky above the river.

The arc of campfires was dotted with glowing coals and there was much potent fuel nearby.

The fires would become quickly bright, if necessary.

//why Yat is worried about Dokuk becoming a hunter this night….

Intermittent shadows chased each other amongst the trees and Eku looked to see low hanging clouds rolling past Yanga’s pale, half circle like puffs of smoke.

Wondered how the clouds could move so fast up in the sky, while on the ground, Ulayo’s breath remained tame?

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.

***

The tribal council began when Tiuti presented a gift to Kafila.

An ax, simple, but brilliantly crafted.

The haft was long, carved from a single piece of wood.

The thicker end bored to fit an adze-shaped blade of isipo-gazi.

An elegant fitting of blade to haft secured by cordage and sinew glue.

Kafila was visibly moved.

She wore splendidly colored skins of red and orange.

Such a weapon would have taken much time and she hugged Tiuti with obvious affection.

Kafila turned to the people seated and standing and raised the ax over her head, so that everyone could admire its beauty.

With a better view of the shape, Eku realized its purpose.

This was not an ax for harvest.

Not for butchering or chopping wood.

Tiuti had made Kafila a weapon designed to kill.

She brought the ax down and playfully ran a finger across the cutting age, drawing the hand away quickly to lick her finger, smiling.

There was laughter and Eku thought of Ingwe’s wonderful sense of humor and edgy toughness.

Realized once more how Kafila was radiantly pretty, like Ingwe, just older.

He also remembered what Ingwe told him about Kafila being nesibindi.

Eku watched closely as she adjusted the wrap of orange and red around her shoulders.

Moved with the same grace as her daughter to sit beside Uta, the ax on her lap.

Yes, Eku thought.

He could see the bee-eater.

Her beauty was her feathers and the axe was the sharp beak.

A beautiful, but deadly hunter.

***

Eku and Yat were engrossed by the proceedings.

Much of the discussion centered on how the camp would be defended in an attack.

Where each of the different groups of people were expected.

An attack, 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 Uta and others.

Eku saw the izik-kosa and hunters with a single talon sitting near him and Yat.

He spotted Dokuk, next to Kozik, surrounded by other young hunters.

The young hunters would all remain together tonight, Eku knew.

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 preparing 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.

Many in the crowd leaned forward, eagerly.

Kaleni looked impressive.

Held the 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 nearly twice his height, the blade long and wicked and sharp enough to slice hair.

He wore a shorne loincloth and leopard-skin belt.

An ax hung on either hip.

Kaleni strode forward and 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.

“We track where they go. Where they make camps. We have known their movements for some time.

“Normally, they stay close to the water, as we do. And they move as we do. Every night.

“Now they are camped up on the mountain. They have been at the same spot for three nights.

“They are preparing for a hunt.

“They are waiting for us.”

Someone cried from the crowd, “You know this? For sure?”

A mother.

Eku heard the fear in her voice.

Kaleni shrugged, almost as though to apologize and said, simply, “Yes.”

Another mother 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 shouted.

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. “Not in the forest.

“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 paused and many voices quickly rose.

Questions flew back and forth too fast for anyone at the front to answer.

Kaleni looked at Uta, who stood.

The talking came to a respectful stop.

Kaleni retreated to where the other hunters stood.

Uta stepped forward and bowed to the mothers and said, “The bubinzwana do not stalk us for food.”

A voice called, “For what then?”

Uta was quiet.

The entire group of people became silent with him.

Similar to the way Kaleni had, the Bwana leader seemed to shrug his broad shoulders in an apologetic way and said, “We will get to that.”

***

Uta sat down next to Kafila and the tribal council continued.

There was much talking and Eku did his best to follow; though at times, it was difficult being all the way in the back.

Tiuti and Wutota talked briefly about the overall preparation of the encampment.

Kafila covered the duties of the different groups of adults who were not nesibindi or Abantu hunters.

No matter how interesting, Eku was not accustomed to late nights and grew sleepy.

Found it difficult to concentrate.

Snapped to attention when the loud question rang out—“But what are they really like?”

There was a pause.

Everyone looked at Uta, who finally turned again to Kaleni.

Kaleni motioned to the hunter Juka, standing next to him.

Eku had always admired Juka.

He was muscular and had sturdy legs.

Juka handed his javelin to his father and stepped forward.

He wore his loincloth and leopard skin belt.

There were three eagle talons on his chest.

Eku knew that Juka was renowned for ibe-bonakalio.

Like his father, he could remain unseen and track any animal, over any terrain.

“From a distance, you think they are human,” Juka said. “They are shorter than us, but thicker, especially here.”

He motioned to his shoulders and hips.

“Much bigger than we are here,” and he slapped the muscles of his thighs, which Eku actually found impressive.

Juka turned to the side and lifted his loincloth to slap his butt cheek, adding “And especially here!”

Yat and Eku joined the laughter of others.

Juka, happy to have inspired a bit of mirth, quickly became serious again.

“Only the males are big,” he said. “The females are not.”

Kafila called out, “But the females are as vicious and aggressive as the males. They fight ferociously, as we found out when we attacked their camp. But we killed many of them.”

A mother asked, “But are they truly the same as us?”

Juka said, “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 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 butts.

Because of the tension, the people laughed loudly.

Perhaps too loudly.

The people were confident because of their numbers, but everyone felt the nervousness.

Juka retreated to be with the Abantu hunters and Eku noticed Uta and Kafila looking at each other.

They seemed concerned.

Once again, many voices from the crowd called back and forth.

“They are hairy and ugly!”

“They have big teeth.”

“They smell like 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, you stab the belly or throat!”

Yat was visibly upset and no longer laughing, but Eku was excited at the enthusiasm.

He stood on his knees to better see over the people sitting in front.

Voices rang out with no sense or order.

A nesibindi tried to explain to someone’s question, “On the savannah, we can outrun the bubinzwana, but they are very fast for a short distance. Like a lion.”

A mother cried, “With the river behind us, there is nowhere to escape?”

Another cried, “We are trapped here, no?”

One of the hunters responded, “Yes, but we are the trap.”

Eku saw Uta stand up and begin pacing.

***

Uta and Kafila looked at each other.

Kafila was fearful. Uta was angry.

The two of them know what is coming.

Amongst a very large tribe of people, they are the only ones to have been face to face with bubinzwana.

Uta, many times.

He wants to stand up and scream.

Not at any one person, but everyone.

He shares Kafila’s fear.

That fear is what drives his anger.

Uta has personally trained all of his young nesibindi, but not a single one has fought a bubinzwana.

And the Abantu and Mantel?

Their forest skills were remarkable and they have observed the bubinzwana from afar, but one cannot judge the true nature of such a beast until they have fought one.

The bubinzwana were singularly ferocious.

More agile and powerful than a human.

Fueled by pure aggression.

Uta knows the Abantu have faith in the hunters and fearsome weapons—and for good reason.

Uta has witnessed enough to know their skills are without equal.

But there is too much confidence.

Not enough fear.

Uta stalked back and forth, fists clenched, arms corded with muscle.

When he turned toward Eku, the pink area of the scar shined in a way that conjured blood.

The talking subsided.

Eku heard the snap and pop of the fires.

The background whine of insects.

Everyone watched Uta.

He stopped pacing.

Wearing only his zebra loincloth and ornate necklace of claws and fangs.

Deliberately looking over the crowd, as though trying to find the gaze of every individual.

Finally, offered the barest of nods.

He did not raise his voice.

Not yet.

No one as much as clicked or whispered,

The words he spoke were clear for everyone.

Uta raised a hand to point to the scar and said, “A bubinzwana did this to me.”

The fire near the upriver barricade cast a flickering yellow glow across the scar.

Uta opened his pointing hand, palm out to the crowd, splaying fingers and thumb.

Now his voice rose.

“A bubinzwana did this to me with a blow of his hand! A hand like mine, but nails hard like claws.”

Pointed to the scar again, adding with an edge to his voice, “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.”

Shrugged his broad shoulders.

Looked around.

“The bubinzwana kill and they eat what they kill. They are predators, like hyenas, but worse. Much 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 a spear.”

More stabbing motions made Uta’s strong arms flex.

“I have seen them do this,” he shouted.

Took an impressive leap forward and swung both hands together as though driving a spear in a two-fisted stabbing motion.

“A single thrust skewers through a strong Bwana,” Uta cried. “The spear enters his stomach and comes out of his back.”

Uta threw up his hands as though to grab someone by the throat, adding in a harsh voice that made many wince and pull back, “And as you die, they seize you and bite ferociously at your face and neck.”

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, as though Uta had brought memories of terrifying battles to life.

The Bwana chieftain looked more ferocious than any person Eku had ever seen.

But apparently, the bubinzwana were more ferocious.

No longer shouting.

Voice low, but in a way that everyone could hear, Uta said, “The weakest male bubinzwana is stronger than our strongest. The largest are very strong. Very dangerous. Very hard to kill.”

He looked over the tribe, again trying to find as many eyes as possible.

Uta said, “I have seen the bubinzwana do things my mind could never imagine without my eyes showing me.”

Paused, as if reluctant to continue.

The strong shoulders drooped.

“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,

Uta deeply appreciated their empathy and felt great love for the people who asked him to lead them, but this was no time to be soft.

“The bubinzwana hunted and ate the linwelewana,” Uta cried. “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 past the mothers, toward the darkness of the forest 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, to hover over the front row of mothers.

“The bubinzwana are not hunting us for food, but for our young females.

“They intend to capture them and bring them back to their camps.

“To keep them for their own pleasure until they are tired of using them.

“I have seen this happen before.”

There were visceral reactions and some of the people sobbed.

“The bubinzwana will come here and attack us and try to scare us by killing our youngest,” Uta said.

“They will take the bodies back to their camps for the females, who will fight over who gets to distribute the tender meat.”

More sobbing.

Uta nodded, sad to cause such fear, but knowing this was necessary.

“That is what the bubinzwana intend to do if we do not stop them,” Uta said.

Kafila sprang up, the flaps of her colored vest almost like wings.

“When the bubinzwana want something they do not stop,” she cried. “They will come for us again and again and again until they get what they want.”

She stood beside Uta.

“So we will stop them here,” she said. “We will stop them here, at this place. Once and for all.”

***

Yat cried softly beside Eku, who remained awestruck.

Now he understood why she was so worried about Dokuk becoming a hunter on this, of all nights.

For Eku, still too young to realize the true nature of the danger they faced, fascination, curiosity and wonder were profound; there was no room for terror.

He wasn’t sure what to think of the bubinzwana.

He imagined them as some kind of large, baboon-like beast.

Or maybe like a linwelewana, only larger.

He thought of the linwelewana’s amazing strength and agility and realized 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. Made sure he remembered where she had gone and turned attention back to the tribal council.

Talking was now ordered.

Back and forth between those in the crowd and the four up front.

Having difficulty hearing, Eku quickly grew sleepy.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open.

Horrified, Eku realized he was falling asleep!

He 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, still in a cross-legged position.

Eku raised his head and his neck ached.

Grimacing, he opened his mouth to protest, but a series of soft clicks from his mother told him not to bother.

Besides, his mother was rubbing his back and shoulders in a way that already had his eyes getting droopy again.

“Come with me to the closest hut,” she said into his ear. “It is set up for us. And any others for later.”

“Where is Yathi,” Eku mumbled.

“He is in the same shelter as he went to earlier. It is next to Yat and Ingwe. You can see join them later. When Ulanga comes.

“For now, come with me to stay in the small shelter. It is extra. For mothers. Or anyone else who may want to rest.”

Still sleepy, Eku clicked that he was confused.

Krele smiled.

Put a hand on Eku’s head and said, “I already put your bed mat down. And your ula-konto is in there.”

“How did you know to do that?”

Krele moved his shoulders in a way to get him to move.

“Come Eku, you can stay there until Ulanga rises.”

She straightened and beckoned with one hand.

Eku took her hand and stood.

Followed his mother as she told him, “I will be coming to lie down with you later. But first, there are things we must finish.”

“What other things?”

Krele shook her head, but the movement was lost in an area of low light.

They moved away from the crowd behind them, toward the downriver barrier.

Eku asked, “The tribal council is not over?”

“Almost. Come, you can still hear from the shelter.”

***

The shelter that Eku crawled into was smaller than the others.

More to the downriver side of the encampment, fitted into a space about midway, on the side away from the water.

The oval opening was on the backside, facing the other shelters and Krele led Eku past one of the large rounded shapes currently filled with people, but silent with everyone asleep.

Her and Eku crept around the shelter to find the opening to their own.

Krele crept in first and guided Eku to the familiar outlines of his bed mat.

Eku reached to the side and sure enough, there was his ula-konto, set on two rocks.

Clicked his gratitude and Krele clicked back.

She shuffled back and stretched part of the opening further, to allow enough firelight to seep through and let Eku make out the rest of his possessions and get settled comfortably.

Then she left.

Eku lay still on his back, hands folded on his stomach.

All of the shelters were silent.

Fatigue hit hard.

The bubinzwana appeared in his imagination, as some kind of phantom.

Teeth and claws.

Maybe like a baboon?

Or a linwelewana?

Eku was surprised to not feel afraid.

He wished he had talked more to his father.

Eku maintained absolute trust in the adults.

Their wisdom and planning.

He decided to focus 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!

Well, hopefully only the necklace part.

Still, Eku felt sad.

Because he would not be a hunter?

Because of Goguk?

Maybe because he was here, all alone.

Being alone was the thing an Abantu feared above all other things.

To be alone was worse than death.

Painfully, Eku realized how much he missed Yat and Yathi.

As though parts of his body were missing.

He felt the tears well up.

Only Yanga sees in the dark, Krele told him when he was little and afraid in the utter black of an enclosed shelter at night.

“And genets and owls,” he learned to say, because she would Mom-laugh.

And when his mother laughed, Eku felt better, no matter what.

Maybe the dark just makes us a little silly, Eku thought.

No.

Fear made us silly.

His father taught him that.

Eku thought of the nesibindi who sacrificed himself.

He had thought many times about what the Bwana nesibindi did.

So brave.

The vubu would certainly have killed others.

Very possibly even Yat or Yathi or himself.

“We serve the tribe,” Eku whispered in the dark.

***

It was nearly dawn when Krele crawled inside to find Eku asleep.

She backed out on all fours and rose to face Kaleni, waiting.

They walked around Eku’s shelter and out into the open area.

The night sky remained clear, well lit by Yanga and many stars.

Around them, the camp appeared as though everyone was sleeping or resting, though that was far from the case.

Beds of coals glowed a steady orange arc along the forest side.

What lay beyond was only shadow and the black of the mountain.

Krele and Kaleni stood close, face to face.

Finally, Kaleni asked, “Is he asleep?”

Krele offered a terse nod. “Do you want to see him?”

“Not now. Are you going to stay with him or remain outside?”

Krele clicked that she was undecided.

“There is time for you to rest,” Kaleni urged. “Lie with Eku. At least until Ulanga begins to rise. Nothing will happen until then.”

Krele looked across the rows of shelters, able to map in her mind where everyone was sleeping.

Knowing it was a filling meal and an unusually busy day, all of the children were peacefully asleep, along with the young mothers.

She could wake Eku and squeeze him into one of the larger, inner shelters to be with others, but that would mean disturbing both.

And with dawn fast approaching?

There was no point.

Krele peered into Kaleni’s eyes, searching for his strength.

“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.

But Krele no longer hid her fear.

Bitterly she said, “They are coming.”

“Yes.”

Kaleni put hands on her shoulders.

Frustrated at such a brief moment.

Yearning for his thoughts to simply enter Krele’s mind, so that she would know how much he loved her.

How much he has loved her since even before she cut her hair for him.

Krele and Kaleni have been together for many cycles.

Endured and triumphed.

Which was why he knew that she understood that he must do what a hunter does.

As if reading his mind, Krele touched his face tenderly.

Ran the tips of her fingers across Kaleni’s nose and mouth.

Caressed his throat and chest.

Nudged the four eagle talons aside and placed her lips against his skin, whispering, “I will sing in my mind for you to 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 crawled inside the shelter to lay beside Eku.

She even managed to fall asleep.

Briefly.

Her and Eku woke when the bubinzwana came for them at dawn.