Survival of the Fittest

by Jacqui Murray

  For a long time after that, the simple act of talking made her head hurt. Remembering places or tasks felt like someone beating inside her head, trying to get out. The childless female who had agreed to take her soon tired of Zvi’s needs.

  By the time the injuries healed, her body had grown so large, groupmembers confused her with an adult and labeled her as dumb, lazy, and worthless, never realizing no one had taught her the skills. This made her cry which made everyone shun her. Even infants knew crying attracted the wrong attention.

  When her bleeding commenced and no male showed interest, her adopted mother rejected her. “We must trade you, Zvi. I can’t care for you any longer.”

  No one else wanted a huge unskilled female. When the dry time arrived, she escaped to the cool, restful, and shady world of the jungle. There, in the same nest, still her best friend, she found Giganto.

  Zvi could hardly contain her excitement. The light filtered down from high overhead creating muted shadows everywhere. The branches scratched her skin and slapped against her chest but it didn’t stop her from climbing the tallest tree. From there, the river flowed like a snake, coiling against its muscular currents, shimmering as its waves caught the sunlight like scales, the green meadows bathed in the humid light of a sinking sun.

  That was all distraction for her real interest.

  “Giganto!”

  It was time to finalize their plan.

  A day later, back in her tribe’s cave, Zvi couldn’t help but smile, despite that again they ignored her. It no longer mattered because her job was too important to be sidetracked by anyone. What she did now would decide the success or failure of Giganto’s plan. Moon would arrive and depart a handful of times before all was in place but in the end, she and Giganto would be together.

  "There is no bamboo for you today, Zvi. Giganto’s tribe wouldn’t share."

  "They eat only bamboo. Without it, they starve."

  "That's stupid."

  Zvi thought about that. "Well, they like fruit but the monkeys grab most of it and they scare Giganto."

  A giggle came from among the females. "Go, help with the deer."

  It was Zvi who had chased the deer being defleshed over a cliff. Before she could trundle her way down the slope, the People’s hunters claimed the kill. Zvi tried to explain her part in the hunt but no one listened.

  “There’s room for you here, Zvi,” and one of the males—Bork—scooted over. “Watch how I remove tendons to be used for tying and carrying.”

  Zvi gulped back her shock and crouched, watching raptly. When he separated the hide to be scraped for skins, her mind ticked off the steps. As she worked, her muscular hip jarred one of the females.

  The newly-blooded adult squealed and muttered, "Go over there where you won’t be in the way," pointing to those who were pounding bones to free the marrow.

  “Blood makes me sick,” but Zvi scooted over.

  With a thwack, the bone’s hollow interior cracked and a long squishy tube popped out, rich with nourishment and juices. This went to the females carrying children.

  “There’s no room here, Zvi. Help the children shape bone picks.”

  "It’s alright,” she mumbled to no one in particular because no one listened. To her surprise, Bork made room for her among the males knapping.

  "Hand me that gray rock, Zvi,” and he motioned toward the pile in front of him.

  Zvi did as asked. He ran his fingers over it, frowned at a dark line in the surface, and tossed it aside. Zvi pawed through the pile and uncovered a palm-sized chunk of chalcedony. Hard, almost transparent, its smooth surface felt cool to the touch. It would require time to knap but time was plentiful. Bork situated the rock on a flat surface at his feet and slammed the hammerstone into it to create the sharp flakes that became cutters.

  "I can do that," and Zvi grabbed a piece of chert.

  "We’re running out of those,” he motioned not unkindly. “Use the pond rocks."

  "Where are they?"

  Someone snickered. "Outside.”

  When Zvi looked confused—she hadn’t seen pond rocks outside, Bork motioned, “That’s OK, Zvi. Watch me.”

  When he finished one and another, he rested on his haunches and motioned, “Your name—Zvi—says you survived Buffalo.”

  She bobbed her head, not sure where he was going.

  “Why not run?”

  Any answer would come out a stutter. Then Bork would lick his lips and the stutter would get worse, finally making it impossible to talk. By that point, everyone would be laughing at her. She had tried a variety of tactics to prevent stammering—authoritative movements like the Leader, calm but assured ones like the Primary Female, self-deprecating and humble, even begging, but nothing worked.

  When he waited expectantly, the only thing to do was answer honestly. “I c-can’t outrun a b-buffalo. Can you?”

  No one could. Of course.

  As though he didn’t hear her stutter, he asked, “But what made you run toward it?”

  I couldn’t think of anything else to do! Her spear was a castoff but the buffalo wouldn’t know. Maybe flailing her arms, yelling and pounding her chest would frighten it.

  To her great surprise, the animal bolted.

  Her gaze caught Bork’s. “What would you do if you were there?”

  Bork shrugged. “Probably die,” and then rubbed his eyes. “You earned your name, Zvi, one-who-fought-Buffalo. Wear it with pride.” Most of those who heard him snickered but Bork’s eyes narrowed.

  Zvi had no idea how to respond so reapplied herself to the fascinating task of knapping. It was odd that everyone flaked only one side of the stone. Flaking both would make it sharper and why not all around so no matter how the cutter or chopper was grabbed, it would be sharp? It would take longer to knap but make better use of the best stones.

  By the time her courage grew enough to ask Bork his thoughts on this, he’d left to scout the area around the cave in preparation for sleeping.

  Everyone paired up to remove the insects, dirt, twigs, and lice that accumulated in their hair during the day. Zvi enjoyed this with Giganto but her groupmates complained that her grooming took too long. When she explained—between stutters—how fascinating the tiny bugs were that lived in fur, they laughed and refused to groom with her. Not even her adopted mother would.

  Zvi swore to be kinder with her children.

  The next day and every one after that, Bork invited her to join him on his daily tasks. A female doing male tasks was unusual but everyone agreed Zvi was barely female. Zvi eagerly accepted. Giganto wanted her to learn survival skills. Each day, Zvi’s knapping, foraging, hunting, and spear throwing improved. When they hunted, Bork always took credit but in return, taught her how to track Hyaena, Wolf, Bear, and the big cats like Panther. Soon, not only were their tracks clear but their voices—the greeting bark of deer, the call of the tiny musk deer, the cautionary rumble of the sambar with its treacherous antlers, the warning of Wild Pig, and the slap-slap of the giant beaver building its den. As they traveled, Bork showed how to orient her location to the sulfuric smell of the volcanoes on one side and the salty tang of Endless Pond on the other.

  Partnering with Bork made him the tribe’s best hunter and Mother no longer threatened to throw her out.

  When Bork pairmated with a female in another tribe and no other male would partner with her, it didn’t matter. She was ready.

  No one noticed her disappear into the jungle, clumping away at her quickest pace, eager to tell Giganto the good news. It had been a handful of Moons but Zvi knew Giganto would be waiting. A family of Giant Panda ate at his favorite spot so Zvi leaned against a tree, whittling and sleeping, knowing when the Panda left, Giganto would arrive.

  Except he didn’t, and a search of his other favorite places came up empty. When night arrived, there was nothing to do but curl into the hollow trunk of Leopard’s tree until Sun returned. For some reason, Leopard always draped carcasses over the boughs of this tree. It had b
ecome a reliable source of meat for Zvi, except when Leopard needed to feed her nursing cubs. Zvi wouldn’t take the meat then.

  After patiently searching for most of the next two days, Zvi began to worry. Did his tribe move on and he had to leave without her? When they showed up at the bamboo patch without him, her big body shook with fear that Giganto was dead.

  Chapter 28

  Zvi worked the cricks from her body after another night in the confined space of a hollow tree. Giganto’s family assured her he was around. All she could do was wait.

  “I’ll go see what the wolves are doing.”

  In the search for a nest last night, Zvi had seen a small wolf den dug into a hillside and tucked under a large log. Coming from inside were the growls of an adult and the whines of at least two pups. Now, Zvi quietly snuck back to it and hid in the brush where she had a good view of the pack.

  “They’re playing…”

  In fact, to everyone’s delight, the mother and father were romping and roughhousing with the pups. The yips and yelps made Zvi wonder what it would be like to live with such a loving family, in their den. Wolves were devoted to their mates and pups. They killed only for food, family, or their own protection. Zvi liked wolves better than her group but not as much as Giganto.

  Which made her worry again about her friend.

  Where is he?

  She rubbed her face and trotted along the path to the bamboo patch. When Giganto finished whatever kept him busy, he would join her there. In her neck sack were bird eggs. Zvi had taken only two of the handful in the nest. If the eggs’ mother was like the wolves, it would upset her to return from hunting and find all her babies gone. But Giganto loved eggs, maybe more than bamboo. His favorites were from Ostrich but the huge birds—some as tall as Giganto—violently protected their eggs, slapping with their massive wings and stabbing him with their beaks. Even Giganto had trouble stealing those.

  These eggs were small but he would appreciate her gift.

  Food was plentiful here in the jungle, providing a vast selection of corms, seeds, nuts, lizards, larvae, burrowing lizards, and grubs. These last were hard to spot in the cold time’s moist soil, but when dry like now, fine cracks appeared above the tree roots they favored.

  Zvi passed all of it, too eager to see Giganto. A cool breeze made her check the clouds—wispy, with a mix of streaks and curls. It was colder than expected.

  Once at the bamboo forest, a playful huff greeted her and Zvi almost toppled over in her excitement.

  "Giganto! Where were you? I worried. I have this for you," and offered the egg.

  Usually, he greeted her by slamming his palms to the ground but today, worry shadowed his face and he looked lighter, less robust, as though he hadn’t eaten well.

  "Unh," was his only response as he gulped the egg down whole, not even chewing once. “Unnn,” and he handed Zvi a chunk of bamboo.

  He seldom used his voice or gestures but Zvi always understood him as he did her. She munched the woody stalk, which tasted like dry tussock grass. It would abate her hunger until something tasty showed up. As she chewed, trying to keep the distaste from her face, Giganto sat quietly, eyes staring into the distance, arms hanging listlessly. Her friend never sat still when he could eat bamboo.

  “Giganto, what’s wrong?”

  After a succession of his mewls, chirrs, and sighs, Zvi motioned, “I feel it too. The cold lasted longer.”

  He waved the bamboo.

  “Yes, I noticed there wasn’t as much. Even the Pandas seem unhappy. Giganto—if you leave, can I come with you? I’ve learned many new skills since we last talked—knapping, tracking, hunting, even more. I think you and I will survive well, even with just the two of us.”

  The friendly giant uncharacteristically wielded the bamboo stick like a club and beat his chest, snarling and barking.

  “My People–they don’t appreciate the importance of sharing.”

  Giganto moaned, leaning tiredly on his knuckles.

  “OK. I’ll see what I can do. Meet me here tomorrow!”

  The thought of helping her friend brightened Zvi’s day so, even returning to her People didn’t depress her.

  The next morning, Zvi entered her People’s cave as Sun awoke and asked who needed help. As expected, no one responded or asked about her long absence. It no longer mattered. Her only purpose here was to save Giganto.

  Squeezing in among the females allowed her to eavesdrop on their discussions. It took every bit of restraint to remain silent—well, except for one coughing fit—when they talked openly about raiding Giganto’s territory, killing his family, and taking all of the bamboo.

  The next day, she again waited for Giganto at the agreed spot. A heavy mist lingered from the nighttime drizzle, dripping from the trees and forming puddles on the ground.

  “I’ll never go against you or your tribe, Giganto,” she muttered to herself. “I will leave my People. It will work out.”

  When he didn’t arrive, Zvi padded along the mossy forest trails, saw where he scratched his back against a tree and easily followed his prints, as deep and long as both of hers, to his favorite waterhole, but they disappeared. A warm sunny patch of shoreline called to her, so different from the bleakness of the dense humid bamboo forest.

  “I’ll wait.” He would be here. He had promised.

  A fish swam back and forth, just below the surface.

  “If I had my bamboo spear, fish, you would make a good meal.”

  Overlaying its scales was some sort of mossy growth.

  "Is that how you avoid predators, fish, by blending into the pond’s bottom? Or is that greenery to make prey think you and your fins are nothing more than unthreatening green plants? That would make it easier to catch them.”

  The fish fixed its unblinking eye on her, snout forward.

  "Why do you never blink?”

  Zvi wished it would answer but all it did was open and close its mouth. When her shadow had almost disappeared, the fish long gone, Zvi too left. A bird chirped, carrying twigs for its nest.

  “Where are you going, Bird? Can you spare eggs for me?” She smacked her lips thinking about their slimy taste.

  A yap made her drop and perk her ears. Wolf! But not the 'calling my brother' cry or the playful huffs of enjoyment. This was an ‘I am injured’ plea. Zvi raced toward it and found a female, her leg bent awkwardly in a crack. Her cries had attracted a pack of hyaenas who sized up her desperate situation.

  "Go! Leave her!" Zvi threw fist-sized rocks with enough force to stun one and another and another of the hyaenas but there were too many. Some forced her into a tree while others killed the female wolf.

  Such was life. Predator became prey whether ready or not.

  To Zvi’s surprise, milk squirted from the dead animal’s teats. Why would a nursing mother abandon her pups?

  “You died trying to feed your family.” Her hunger must have been desperate. "You are like me, Wolf, with no one to help you. I could feed your pups. I'm good at finding food."

  Over the noise of the hyaena’s slurping and chewing, Zvi heard pathetic high-pitched mewling. Several of the hyaenas heard them also and padded toward the cries.

  “I must get there first.”

  She slithered down the tree, earning only a glance from the pack, and flew toward the plaintive yips. In front of the wolf den, one hyaena already padded forward, slowly and deliberately, to draw out the adult who must be protecting the pups. They would get rid of her first and then eat the babies.

  "Argh!" Zvi bellowed and flailed a tree limb at them, making herself look as big and intimidating as possible. "Go!" and flung a rock at one of the beasts. It thunked off his skull and he stumbled, whining, blood dripping over his muzzle.

  Another hyaena hissed.

  "Leave them—it is enough you took their mother,” and Zvi tossed a boulder the size of Ostrich’s egg at the Leader.

  It knocked him over and another one crushed his leg. With a squall, he limped away, to be r
eplaced by a more impressive hyaena, maybe sensing opportunity in the void created by the Leader’s absence. A low growl rumbled from his chest. He bared his vicious fangs. Saliva drooled from the corners of his lips as he fixed an unwavering stare on Zvi. Without a thought, Zvi pitched another missile and it smacked him in his eye. He yelped, shook his head, and pawed at the leaking blood. Zvi aimed and fired another and another. Finally, he tucked his tail and sprinted into the trees, as did the rest of his pack.

  Zvi bellowed her most fulsome howl and waited a moment to be sure they left for good, and then crawled toward the mouth of the den.

  "They're gone. You're safe," her voice a soothing shush as her eyes searched the dark interior for the pups.

  There, one and another, huddled together at the back, shaking with fear. She gently withdrew the wiggling balls of fluff. Tails tucked, they moaned. Their eyes were still closed but they knew Zvi’s odor didn’t match mother. A few jabs with clawless paws, nips with toothless mouths and they gave up the defense, choosing instead to snuggle into Zvi's arms, lick her arms and chest, tasting her scent. She nuzzled them, remembering how comforting Giganto’s arms were when he rescued her.

  "You're OK," she soothed until their furry, round bodies stopped shaking.

  Not knowing what to do for such small pups, Zvi took them to her People’s cave to seek help from the Primary Female, Leader of the females and the one who would know how to care for an orphaned animal.

  "Mother, look." The elder glanced up at the bundles of fur in Zvi’s arms.

  “Where is their mother?” She motioned while dropping her work and taking the first of the wolf pups. He mewed plaintively, pink tongue tasting this new creature.

  “Killed by hyaena. These are—”

  "Food. Zvi, you did well,” and bashed the wriggling form against a rock, its head exploding.

  "No! We must care for them—" but the Primary had already closed her hand on the last pup. Zvi swatted it away and scuttled backward, her massive feet stepping on one of the new adult females who squealed as others tried to pull Zvi down.