Euuuugh! Eyeball Stew!

by Alan MacDonald

  Flinted

  The following evening Iggy found Oosha sitting on a rock above the valley, watching the sun sink slowly in the west. At supper she’d been quieter than usual and didn’t want any wild pig’s liver. In fact Iggy had never seen her taste meat at all.

  He sat down beside her. Her eyes searched out the mountains in the far distance which were streaked with red.

  ‘I expect you miss it,’ said Iggy.

  ‘Missit?’

  ‘Your home.’

  Oosha shook her head. ‘I happy here. Like cave. Like Valley. Like making frogs.’

  ‘Making friends,’ said Iggy. After two weeks Oosha’s Urkish was improving but she still got certain words muddled. They watched the setting sun for a while.

  ‘But still, you must want to go home,’ said Iggy.

  Oosha shook her head. ‘Home far. Many walk.’

  ‘But you know the way?’

  ‘Forest not safe like cave,’ said Oosha. ‘Full of animal – boors and welves.’

  Iggy knew what she meant. His mum and dad were always warning him not to go to the forest by himself. By day it was a dangerous place and at night it was downright scary. Besides, Oosha was a girl – she probably didn’t know how to handle an axe or shoot a boo and arrow. If she was ever going to get home, she’d need help – someone strong and brave to protect her.

  ‘Why don’t I come with you?’ said Iggy. ‘I could look out for bears and wolves. Make sure you get home safely.’

  Oosha looked alarmed. ‘No, Iggy. I not ask this.’

  ‘Why not? You can’t stay for ever. What about your father, the Big Cheat? He’ll be worried about you.’

  ‘Mmm,’ said Oosha. ‘But you have Cheat. Hogglehead. He not let me go back.’

  Iggy shrugged. ‘I don’t see why he’d stop us. He’s my uncle so I’ll talk to him if you like.’

  Oosha nodded doubtfully. Talking about going home seemed to make her worried. Iggy supposed it was natural. She must be homesick. She probably didn’t want to get her hopes up in case it didn’t happen. In any case, he thought, it wasn’t a bad idea to get Hammerhead’s permission. If the High Chief agreed to the trip, then his parents could hardly refuse.

  In a large cave further up the hill, Hammerhead and Borg sat opposite each other absorbed in a game of Flints. Like most games the Urks enjoyed, it had very simple rules.

  HOW TO PLAY FLINTS

  1. There are two players. Each starts with a small pile of flints.

  2. The object of the game is to win your opponent’s flints until he is ‘flinted’ (or out).

  3. The player who starts holds out his fist in front of him. His opponent must try to guess how many flints he is holding.

  4. If a player guesses correctly he gains the flints for his own pile. If he is wrong his opponent whacks him hard on the knuckles. (This is called ‘knuckling’.)

  5. Players are allowed to put each other off by humming, farting, pulling faces or choosing a difficult number like five.

  Hammerhead was usually clueless at Flints, but today he seemed to be on a winning streak. Beside him was a large pile of shiny black stones, while Borg was down to his last three. It was the Chief’s turn to guess. Borg brought his fist out in front of him and recited the traditional rhyme:

  ‘Mud in your eye, mud in your ear,

  How many flints do I got here?’

  The Chief stared at Borg’s fist, trying to decide. His opponent had only three flints left, which, according to the Chief’s calculations, meant he must be holding one, two or all three of his flints (unless it was none). So far Hammerhead’s guesses had proved uncannily accurate, almost as if Borg was letting him win. He made up his mind.

  ‘One!’ he said. ‘No, wait . . . Two!’

  Borg raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Three!’ cried Hammerhead. ‘You got three!’

  ‘Is that your guess?’

  ‘Yes, three.’

  Borg groaned. He opened his hand to reveal three small black flints.

  ‘HA! I winned again!’ bellowed Hammerhead in triumph. He collected his winnings and added them to the large pile of flints beside him. ‘One more round?’ he suggested.

  Borg turned up the palms of his hands. ‘How? I’m flinted.’

  ‘Come on! You must have more!’

  Borg shook his head. ‘That were the last. Unless . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Unless you want to raise the stakes, like?’

  Borg reached inside his furs and brought something out. The Chief’s eyes lit up. It was a firestone the size of a ripe plum. In the dim light of the cave it seemed to glow and wink like a diamond. Hammerhead had seen his nephew, Iggy, wearing a stone like this and ever since he had been dying to get his hands on one. It was just the kind of thing a ruggedly handsome Chief ought to wear.

  ‘So, one more game?’ asked Borg.

  ‘Let’s play.’

  Borg laughed softly. ‘And what’s in it for me?’

  ‘Flints. I got plenty,’ said Hammerhead, indicating his pile.

  Borg shook his head. ‘Flints I can get. This is worth a thousand. Look at her!’

  Hammerhead was looking – in fact he was having trouble tearing his eyes away. Borg turned the crimson stone so that tiny pinpricks of light raced across the roof of the cave. It was hypnotic.

  ‘What do you want for her?’ asked Hammerhead, wiping the dribble from his beard.

  ‘Depends what you got.’

  Hammerhead cast around his cave. ‘Skins? Furs? Mammoth horns? Name your price.’

  Borg’s eyes narrowed to slits. There was only one thing he wanted and it was hanging round his opponent’s neck: the ceremonial whalebone necklace passed down from one High Chief to the next. Just as a king needs a crown, no chief could rule the tribe without the necklace.

  ‘One more game,’ said Borg. ‘But let’s make it interesting . . .’

  ‘HELLO?’

  Borg cursed his luck. Someone had blundered in, just when he was getting so close! Why didn’t people learn to knock at a cave before entering? Quickly he tucked the firestone inside his furs, out of sight. His business with Hammerhead would have to wait for another day.

  ‘Oh, sorry, Chief,’ said Iggy, coming in. ‘I didn’t know you were in the middle of a game.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ said Hammerhead. ‘Borg were just going. He’s flinted. So what brings you here?’

  Iggy took a deep breath. He wished Borg would hurry up and go – the grim-faced elder gave him the creeps.

  ‘It’s about Oosha,’ he said.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You know, the girl we found in the forest. She’s been staying with us but I think she wants to go home.’

  ‘Ah.’ Hammerhead looked relieved. He thought it might be some difficult question like what to do about the dreadful stink from the bone-pit. ‘What’s it to do with me?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, you’re Chief,’ Iggy reminded him.

  ‘High Chief.’

  ‘Yes, High Chief. So I thought we should ask your permission.’

  ‘Permission? Oh well – hmm – that’s different!’ said Hammerhead. ‘I got to think about that.’

  He stood up and put on his deep thinking expression, which was very similar to his I’ve-eaten-too-many-nuts expression. He paced up and down a few times, then looked up.

  ‘I’ve decided. She can go.’

  Borg coughed loudly. ‘Is that wise? This Henna girl, what do we know about her?’

  ‘Not much,’ admitted Hammerhead. ‘I didn’t even know she were a girl.’

  ‘Just my point. Then how do we know she’s not . . . a SPY?’

  Hammerhead looked startled. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Maybe her tribe sent her,’ Borg went on. ‘Maybe they’re out to steal our caves, or our women.’

  ‘Or our flints!’ cried Hammerhead.

  ‘But Chief, she’s not a spy!’ protested Iggy. ‘All she wants is to go home. What if I go with
her?’

  ‘Hmm, I don’t know, ’ said Hammerhead. ‘It’s a risk.’

  Iggy’s eye fell on the shining pile of flints on the ground. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Did I mention her father is a Chief?’

  Hammerhead looked up. ‘No!’

  ‘Obviously not a High Chief, but still, I’m sure he’d be grateful if we return his missing daughter. He might even offer some sort of reward.’

  ‘Reward? Like what?’ said Hammerhead.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Iggy. ‘Maybe some of these stones. He touched the gleaming firestone hanging round his neck.

  Borg saw the look of pure greed in Hammerhead’s eyes. It was remarkable the attraction of these little stones, he thought. They cast a spell over people. If he could just get his hands on a dozen or more, what power he would have then! He would make a necklace that would drive someone mad with desire – someone like Hammerhead, for instance. The old fool would give anything to possess them. But first things first. He needed the firestones – and the girl could lead him to them.

  ‘Maybe the boy’s right,’ he said. ‘If she’s a Chief’s daughter, we should help her get home.’

  ‘Really?’ said Iggy, surprised to find Borg agreeing with him.

  ‘Certainly,’ nodded Hammerhead. ‘It’s our duty. And if there’s a reward . . .’

  ‘I only said there might be,’ said Iggy.

  ‘But if there is, then I should claim it – as Chief, like.’

  ‘Just one thing,’ said Borg. ‘This tribe – the Henna. Where do they live?’

  ‘In the Cloud Mountains,’ replied Iggy.

  ‘A long way. We can’t have you going by yourself.’

  ‘I thought of that,’ said Iggy. ‘That’s why I’m taking Hubba.’

  Borg laughed drily. ‘Even so. Take someone else – someone who can hunt. ’

  ‘Makes sense,’ agreed Hammerhead. ‘Who was you thinking?’

  Borg stroked his chin, pretending to consider the question. His face brightened.

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘What about Snark?’

  Chapter 4

  And Snark Makes Three

  ‘SNARK?’ groaned Hubba, when he heard the news. ‘What’s he coming for?’

  ‘Don’t blame me!’ said Iggy. ‘It wasn’t my idea. His dad insisted.’

  ‘Yes, but why Snark?’

  ‘Who is Snork?’ asked Oosha, who had been doing her best to follow the conversation.

  ‘Snark,’ said Iggy. ‘He hates us.’

  ‘He’s a noggerhead!’ muttered Hubba.

  Oosha looked puzzled.

  ‘But I not know any Snork. Why he come for?’

  ‘Don’t ask me,’ said Iggy. ‘But it looks like we’re stuck with him.’

  To tell the truth he was as mystified as they were. In his experience Snark never helped anyone but himself, so why would he volunteer for a dangerous trip to the Cloud Mountains?

  In a dark cave further down the hill, Snark was asking the same question.

  ‘Why me?’ he complained sulkily. ‘Why can’t you go?’

  ‘Don’t be a dungwit!’ snapped his father. ‘I’m Chief of the elders – how can I go? I’m far too important.’

  ‘Then let Iggy take her. He wants to,’ said Snark. ‘And if he dies, no one’ll care!’

  Borg shook his head. ‘Hasn’t you been listening, boy? I want you to go. They need a good hunter.’

  Snark sniffed. It was true he was a brilliant hunter. He was brilliant at a lot of things – boulder-ball, climbing trees, bullying – but hunting came as naturally to him as breathing. Other boys of his age fainted at the sight of blood; he actually enjoyed it. All the same, this wasn’t a hunting trip or he might have been more enthusiastic. The point was to escort this Henna girl back to her tribe. But the question was – why bother? She could find her own way home, and if she got eaten by wolves then too bad– who was going to know? In any case, he didn’t see why he should tramp halfway across the world to find some tribe he’d never even heard of. He tossed the bone he’d been chewing into a corner.

  ‘But what’s the point?’ he grumbled.

  His father slipped a hand inside his furs and drew something out.

  ‘There,’ he said. ‘There’s your point.’

  ‘Huh!’ grunted Snark. ‘A stone.’

  ‘Take a proper look.’

  Snark took the smooth red stone over to the fire where he could see it better. It was different from any stone he’d seen before. This one shimmered with light, like a fish just before you bashed it on the head.

  ‘Ever seen anything like it?’ asked Borg.

  ‘Never.’ Snark shook his head. ‘Can I keep her?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid – give her here.’ Borg snatched the stone and held it up. ‘Now listen. Say I got twenty of these stones, what then?’

  ‘You need a sack.’

  ‘I got power, you dungwit, that’s what. People love these firestones – they’ll give anything for ’em. Hammerhead most of all.’

  ‘But he’s the Chief,’ said Snark. ‘If he likes ’em so much, why don’t he just get some?’

  Borg shook his head. ‘That’s the beauty of it, boy. They’re rare. You only find ’em in the Cloud Mountains, where the Henna live.’

  He paused, waiting for Snark to work it out. It took a while.

  ‘Oh! That’s why you want me to go! You want them firestones.’

  ‘Exactly. And not just a few, mind. I want twenty or more.’

  ‘Twenty or more,’ repeated Snark. ‘You mean like a million?’

  Borg sighed. ‘Never mind. Get some sleep. You got a long journey tomorrow.’

  Snark went to the back of the cave to lie down while Borg remained sitting by the smoky fire, thinking evil thoughts. Once he had the firestones, he would string them into a necklace and invite Hammerhead over to see them. The old fool wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of all those sparkling stones. He would give anything in exchange, even the ceremonial necklace that was his prize possession. Once Borg had that it would be easy to persuade those gormless elders that he was the rightful Chief. Borg, High Chief of the Urks. It sounded good.

  Chapter 5

  Journey to Cloud Mountains

  Early next morning Iggy, Hubba and Oosha set off on the long journey to the Cloud Mountains and the Land of the Henna. At the foot of the hill they found Snark waiting for them armed with his spear and long-handled axe.

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘We got a long journey, so let’s get one thing straight: I’m in charge.’

  Iggy and Hubba looked at each other.

  ‘How come?’ said Iggy.

  ‘’Cos I say so, numlugs. I’m the oldest and I got the brains.’

  ‘Brains of an ant,’ muttered Iggy.

  ‘What you say?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘What if we don’t want you giving us orders?’ asked Hubba.

  Snark took a step closer. ‘Then I might have to learn you, Dum-Dum. Got that?’

  Hubba glared but said nothing. It was pointless to argue with Snark when he was in this kind of mood. He was bigger and stronger than either of them and it would only end in someone getting hurt – though obviously not Snark.

  They walked on, wading across the river and entering the forest. Oosha caught up with Iggy and spoke in a low voice.

  ‘This Snork. I not like him.’

  ‘No, nor me,’ agreed Iggy.

  ‘He show-off. Big belly.’

  ‘Big bully,’ smiled Iggy. ‘But you’re right, big belly too.’

  ‘What he want anyways?’ Oosha went on crossly. ‘Why he come for?’

  Iggy watched Snark striding on ahead of them. He had given the question some thought, but he had yet to come up with an answer. Maybe when they reached the Cloud Mountains they would find out. In the meantime he decided to keep a close eye on Snark – he was definitely up to something.

  They walked for four long days, leaving the forest behind and crossing a dismal wilder
ness where the wind howled like a wolf. They soon lost sight of the Cloud Mountains but Iggy hoped that Oosha could find her way. On the fourth evening, Snark announced they would make camp in the shelter of a clump of trees.

  ‘You two find some food,’ he ordered. ‘Oosha make a fire.’

  ‘And what are you going to do?’ asked Iggy.

  ‘Keep watch,’ said Snark, making himself comfortable. ‘Someone’s got to.’

  By the time Iggy and Hubba returned, Oosha had the fire going while Snark was evidently keeping watch with his eyes closed. Oosha had made one of her tasteless stews in which soggy green bits floated round in circles. Iggy flopped down wearily by the fire.

  ‘We didn’t catch any rabbits,’ he said. ‘We saw a lizard but Hubba frightened it off.’

  Oosha nodded, stirring the stew with a stick.

  ‘Oosha not eat rabbit,’ she said.

  ‘What do you eat?’ asked Hubba.

  Oosha looked at him sharply. ‘Nut,’ she said. ‘Leaf.’

  ‘Great,’ said Iggy. ‘Nut-leaf stew it is.’

  ‘Can’t wait,’ said Hubba gloomily.

  Later that night Iggy woke up. The fire had died low and it was as cold as the Ice Age. Hubba was talking in his sleep as usual, mumbling something about roast meat, but that wasn’t what had disturbed Iggy. He had the uneasy feeling they weren’t alone. Pulling his furs around him, he sat up and stared into the darkness. Nothing stirred except the long grass and the trees sighing in the wind.

  ‘Hello?’ he called. ‘Who’s there?’

  His voice died away on the wind. Searching around for dry twigs, he tried to rekindle the fire. For a few brief seconds it flared into life and he thought he glimpsed something beyond the tree: a shadow watching them. But when he looked again it was gone. Perhaps it was just his imagination or the darkness playing tricks? He decided if he was going to lie awake feeling scared he might as well have company.

  ‘Hubba!’ he whispered, shaking him by the shoulder.

  ‘Noo! It’s mine!’ moaned Hubba.

  ‘Hubba! Wake up! There’s someone out there!’

  Hubba rolled on to his back and opened his eyes. ‘Uhhh? What? Where?’

  ‘There! I think I saw something.’ Iggy pointed to the clump of spindly trees where the shadow had appeared.