Zan-Gah: A Prehistoric Adventure

by Allan Richard Shickman

  Far off they saw a glimmer of daylight reflecting off the dripping walls.

  11

  DAEL

  As the three fugitives approached the opening, they felt with increasing force the lively wind that had pursued them from one end of the cave to the other. Its low-pitched, whistling moan was more noticeable now as they ascended the last few feet of the tunnel. Lissa-Na was the first to emerge into the brilliant light of day. From behind Zan saw the bright sunlight strike her blowing orange hair, turning it for a moment into fire. He could not help himself. He was on fire too—he loved her! But he said nothing—for what was there to say? The constant attentions she lavished on his brainsick brother told him where her affections lay. And if anything in the world could nurse his twin brother to restored health, it was the open and affectionate heart of Lissa-Na.

  They did not know if they had been followed, either within the cave or over their heads. It was quite possible that a war party would be waiting for them nearby. Lissa, who was familiar with the area, scouted the terrain for pursuers lest they be ambushed. No one was there. When Zan finally regained his sense of direction he was able to inform Lissa of the path toward his home. Having neither desire nor choice but to go along, she led them to a shallow river which flowed from the direction Zan had pointed out. Zan, who had suffered so much from thirst and the desert’s heat, was amazed to see a river along which he might have traveled had he known about it. He simply had not located it before or during the agonizing trek that had almost killed him. It was the lake of salt that had gotten his notice from a distance, and had unfortunately become the focus of his journey. Zan could not think of that lake without nausea. But now they could travel along a stream of fresh water. It seemed too good to be true!

  Maybe it was! They had not gone very far when they realized that they were being followed closely by a band of several Noi warriors. There was absolutely no place to hide, nor did it seem likely that they could outrun these men; but they got ready to try. That in itself was dangerous. The blazing desert sun could be fatal to runners, and if they were forced to abandon the stream they would soon run out of anything to drink. True, Lissa-Na had always lived in this arid place, and knew any number of ways to stay alive. Survival was a game that Zan also knew how to play, but what chance had they against armed warriors in possession of an ample supply of water?

  “Always face your enemy.” These words of his father came back to him now. If he must be killed, let it be from the front, courageously, not from behind with the final wound in his back. But it was Lissa-Na who first turned to face the advancing men. “I am still a priestess of Na,” she said proudly. “I do not run from churlish men of war! Turn and face them, and see what I will do.”

  Wondering at her courage and presence of mind, both brothers did as she bid them. She ordered them each to take one of her arms, to hold their spears straight out, and to move their legs as she did. She raised first one knee and then the other in a rhythmic, angular dance. “Do what I do,” she yelled. Zan did as he was told, and Dael, who stood in awe of Lissa-Na, did his best to follow. Thus the three directly faced their enemies arm-in-arm, performing a slow and stately measure, while the twins simultaneously brandished their spears. Lissa-Na began to sing loudly an eerie, high-pitched chant, and continued to lead them in rhythmic movement. “Sing!” she commanded, and the brothers joined in her chant: Oa-ee-YU! Oa-ee-YU. The sun at their backs made a luminous halo of their hair.

  Suddenly Zan understood. The three were physically representing an ominous mystic symbol. It was the same protective emblem he had seen carved into the slab of stone when he had first entered this desert land. Its purpose had been to frighten people away. Would it work now? The emblem’s magical power would be recognized by the Noi warriors, but could they possibly be warded off by a mere dance?

  The result of this maneuver was wonderful. Ten Noi men stopped in their tracks, looked on for a moment in amazement at the radiant trio, and ran away in utter panic. What had frightened them so? “Keep moving exactly as I do,” Lissa said. “Do not stop until they are gone!” They both continued to follow her lead, but with a difference in the way they felt. Zan was greatly relieved to see that he was not going to die; Dael seemed completely indifferent, and only mechanically did Lissa’s bidding.

  Zan was puzzled. Why would ten grown men flee from three youngsters? Only later did he realize what had happened. True, the symbol they had acted out held a fearful potency among the Noi, but that alone would not have been sufficient to repulse them. Was it that the three had faced them and shown no fear? Perhaps. But what had been most frightening to the men of Noi was the sight of twins—for they had been completely unaware of Zan’s existence. None but dead Ab-Lunt had seen them together, and the sight had turned him to stone! Now, a woman of magic, as Lissa-Na was respected to be, was flanked by a devil who had divided himself and his spirit into two parts! And why not next into four? The men of Noi would long afterwards talk with superstitious dread about the “demon” who had lived unrecognized in their presence.

  And so they escaped the vengeance of the Noi, although Lissa-Na continued to fear their return once they had consulted with the priestesses. The three sped on for a long time before they could safely stop and camp. Another cold night passed (the desert can be surprisingly cold once the sun has gone down) before they dared to build a fire. With three it was easier to make fires, build shelters, and even bring down game. Dael showed little interest in Zan’s sling, but Lissa-Na was fascinated with it. Before long she had fashioned one for herself, and with practice became adept at its use. It proved its value when they were surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves. That happened on the fourth day of their retreat. Zan could not have fought them off alone, but he and Lissa together pelted them with stones fired with such force and accuracy that they withdrew whimpering—except for the one that Dael had gored with his spear.

  Lissa’s knowledge of the desert, where she had always lived, enabled the wanderers to stay alive and well. There were all sorts of edibles and liquid sources that Zan had not dreamed of when he had been there alone, and they were able to stay with the river stream. Ages of flow had worn such a deep channel in the desert soil that they found themselves below the surface of the land, which itself provided some shelter. The three were covered with dust and sand when a rare desert rain came. The twins raised their mouths to the downpour as they had when they were little boys, while the river swelled and foamed with renewed energy. The next day the entire desert was gorgeous with bloom. Even Dael seemed to notice. Lissa busied herself with gathering honey-flavored edibles, and Dael was pleased when he tasted them.

  That night, when they had settled in a sheltered place in the river’s deep rut and had built a fire there, Zan decided to try to talk to Dael. During the journey his twin had said almost nothing, but had seemed intensely involved with his own bitter thoughts. As they sat apart Zan would glance at Dael, still almost doubting that it was the same person he had once played games with. Dael’s face was glowing in the light of the flame, but it was rigid except that his forehead sometimes furrowed or twitched, as if his spirit were deeply engaged in an invisible battle. Zan could not guess what poisonous scorpion had bitten, had infected his gentle spirit. Pleasant weather did not make him cheerful nor bad weather sad. He seemed not to feel the intermittent breeze nor to delight in anything, but was as one set alone in a dark place from which there was no exit. Yes, it was Dael, but….

  When Zan approached his brother, Dael was startled and his lips visibly tightened. He did not want to talk. “Soon we will be home,” Zan began with some hesitation. “What fun it will be to fish in Nobla as we used to do.” He recalled how much Dael once wanted to find the source of their river, but a sidelong glance at his brother now convinced him that Dael no longer wished to go fishing, and cared not where the river came from.

  “Dael, what happened in the land of the Noi? Would it not be better to tell me?” Zan waited for an answer but he did
not get one. Some minutes later, when Zan no longer expected a reply, Dael’s lips began to tremble and he muttered something. Zan did not have to ask him to repeat his words, for Dael kept on muttering the same thing over and over: “The night came and they took me…. The night came and they took me…. “

  “Dael, all that is past. We are free! We will be home soon, and imagine what rejoicing will receive us! Wumna, our mother, thinks that you are dead!”

  “I am, Zan, to her and to you.”

  Lissa-Na, who had been listening from a distance, came up to Dael and held his shoulders with loving hands. “No, Dael,” she said softly. “You will be like this dry desert, which receives a little rain and surprises us all with its new flowers.” Dael stared intently at the fire and said nothing.

  In the morning Dael lay down to drink from the stream and Zan lay down beside him. Seeing their remarkably similar reflections side by side, Dael moved away. “We are just alike, Dael,” Zan could not help saying.

  “No, Zan, we are not alike. I do not wish to have a twin.”

  “Why not, Dael? We were born on the same day.”

  “I cannot tell you why! I can never tell anyone!” And nothing Zan could say or do would entice Dael to say another word. But that night Dael announced that he would not be going home.

  “Not home? What will you do?” Zan asked incredulously. “How can you hope to live in this deadly place?” Dael did not answer right away, but Zan understood that he had made up his mind.

  “I will find a cave just as you did.”

  Zan did not try to dissuade his brother. He knew that Dael had suffered so much for two years that the damage to his spirit could not be undone all at once. Zan-Gah, who had killed a lion, could not slay a beast he could not see—a monster that was consuming his twin. He withdrew and left him to Lissa’s care. The persistent, vivid memory of Ab-Lunt’s horrible death wore sorely on his mind, and doubtless on theirs as well.

  The next day Zan changed his tactics. Instead of approaching Dael, he spoke continually to Lissa-Na about his family, which he described in loving terms as they walked along. This was for Dael’s benefit, however, who was intended to hear most of what he said. He told her about the lion hunt and the name of honor Aniah had given him, and of his later visit to the great elder. He told her about his uncle, Chul, on whom he lavished much praise. Then he touched on beauty and respect, but mostly he spoke of the deep bond he shared with his family.

  Suddenly Dael, who had maintained a complete and stubborn silence, angrily spat at his feet. His face was torn between rage and pain. “I am no longer good like you, Zan-Gah (he emphasized “Gah”), and I am no longer your twin. I do not want your company, and I can never go home. I wish you would kill me with your spear and leave my body to be eaten by animals. Or show me that gorge you mentioned that I might throw myself into it and rot at its bottom, unseen by anyone!”

  Oddly, after that outburst, consisting of more words than he had spoken for many days, Dael’s ghost seemed quieted. Lissa-Na did not cease to speak to him and soothe him as best she could. She would hold his cheek to hers, whispering and singing softly, assuaging his mental hurt that he might forget, at least for moments, whatever it was that molested and tormented him. This much success she had: Dael did not repeat his wish to go away.

  The stream they were following flowed from the melting snow of remote peaks, now clearly visible. A second branch plunged over a cliff to a lake many feet below. It was a moment before Zan recognized the place that had once impressed him with its exceeding beauty. But they had to be watchful, for they had arrived at the lands of the wasp people. From his high perch Zan surveyed the entire area. He could see several clusters of their nest-like dwellings in the trees, noting that they were distant enough from one another that the three might be able to pass unnoticed between them. Night was at least two hours away. Perhaps they could cross the area of danger before it became too dark to see, while still enjoying the advantage of twilight, which was that they would not be so highly visible.

  There was a roundabout path that descended from the top of the cliff on one side, leading around the lake and directly between two of the wasp clans. It was nearly dark when they reached the place which they hoped to slip through. It was a small area forested with a few ancient pines, and carpeted with a bed of soft needles that would cushion their steps. As they passed, they could see the camp fires of the two clans, and could even hear their voices overhead. Their absolute quiet would be necessary if the passage was to succeed, and neither Zan nor Lissa dared to breathe the least whisper as they tiptoed carefully over the carpet of needles. Above their heads the wind brushed the tops of the trees, exhaling a hissing noise that obscured the rustle of their feet. But all of their fearful precautions were wasted when Dael, possibly troubled by the silence, began to scream and whoop like a madman careless of his life. Nothing Lissa and Zan could do would calm him down, and they were soon surrounded by a band of armed wasp men. At its head was the blond-bearded Naz! What evil luck to fall into their hands, and especially his, after having barely escaped the Noi warriors!

  Naz and his spearmen had no fear of twins as the Noi people did. When after a moment they recognized Zan, they only were surprised to discover that their numbskull servant of old had a double. As for the third, the flame-haired Lissa-Na, Naz immediately claimed her for his own—above the objections of several of the men—and grabbed her by the wrist. That was a fatal mistake. In his long life, Zan never could forget what followed. Dael, his head bowed but still holding his spear, let loose a terrible, paralyzing scream and stabbed Naz in the throat. Naz’s proud thoughts had been far from death, but now, with his eyes still open, he fell to the ground a corpse. The other men were much astonished, and seizing all three they pricked them with their venomous spears and let them fall down in helpless agony. When they recovered hours later they were in a cage that was strong enough to hold a bear.

  That night they were sufficiently miserable. Zan now had no reason to pretend that he was stupid, and judging from the way he was addressed, he gathered that he would fool no one with the old subterfuge. Speaking to the guards directly in their own language, he asked through the bars of the cage what their fate would be. He received only a coarse guffaw for an answer. Then one of them asked where he had come from. Fearing that they might all be sent back to the Noi in pieces, he told them that they grew up in the land beyond the great chasm in the earth, which they had expected to cross before they had been taken prisoner. The men laughed again. “You will see it but you will never cross it. You will visit its bottom! You have killed, and now you must die the Terrible Death, which we reserve for special enemies. Then we will cross it ourselves at the secret place, right over your shattered skulls, and take revenge on your coward people, for we know them well!”

  It was about three hours before dawn. Zan and Lissa were still wide awake, although Dael, heedless of death, had fallen into a deep sleep. So had their guards. In this captivity Zan visualized the horrible death that was planned for them, but he also thought of Naz. He had never detested any human being as much. But was Naz—proud, stubborn, and with a certain blindness—so very different from Zan? Then he contemplated Dael, sleeping like an exhausted child. He was not sorry that Naz was dead; only that Dael had killed him. He nearly wept to think that his happy, smiling twin had twice shed blood without the least remorse. This gentle brother, whom he had always tried to protect, had become so violent, so dangerous, that Zan was almost afraid to be near him. With these troubling thoughts Zan looked gloomily out of his cage into the dark and silent night. Behind the strong trees that supported the wasp-dwellings was a full moon, but Zan could not see it. What he did see was a bush—that started to move! It appeared to be a large animal in the blackness coming between the trees. Was it a bear? It was too dark to tell. For a long time the animal stopped moving, possibly wondering whether it dared to come any closer to the camp. Zan envied its freedom. If only that bear were in this cage and he and
his companions were able to roam or find shelter in the woods!

  Slowly and very cautiously, the creature came forward a little; and suddenly it reared up on its hind legs like a huge, imposing ape. Yet Zan saw dimly at last that it was neither a bear nor an ape. Emerging from the opaque darkness was a gigantic man! It was Chul! Zan was never so glad to see anyone in his life! He roused Dael even as Chul dispatched each of the guards with a single blow of his great fist. Then grabbing two of the bars of their pen, Chul snapped them like twigs and Zan and Lissa stepped out, ready to flee for their lives. “Come Dael, come,” Zan whispered urgently, but Dael would not come! “No, Zan,” he said. “I do not wish to go home. I will not.”

  It was said that Chul was slow-witted, and it was true. But more than most, he had powerful and sure instincts. He saw at once that Dael was not himself—was sick—that something awful must have happened to work an earthquake in his mind. Chul did not pause to argue. Grabbing Dael by his arm, he flung him across his mighty shoulders and ran so fast that Zan and Lissa could scarcely keep up with him and his load. Dael was too dispirited to resist.

  In his simplicity, Chul had never doubted that he would find both Zan-Gah and Dael. He had made careful preparations, bringing large supplies of food and water and leaving caches of both in caves, tree hollows, and under rocks all along the way. There were a couple of weapons too. They soon retrieved some necessities, especially the spears. The dawn was breaking and they were going on a downhill slope toward the land of red rocks where there would be many hiding places. Meanwhile they had to make haste. Their footprints were easily visible in the dusty ground, and it might not be long before spearmen were on their trail. Because they were traveling downhill, the wasp men, from their higher vantage point, would be able to see their progress from a considerable distance. They could not stop to eat or make a fire, at least until they had crossed the great gorge that was supposed to be Zan’s burial place.