The First Colony: Book I: Settlement Chronicals

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The First Colony: Book I: Settlement Chronicals Page 11

by W. J. Rydrych


  It had been a good hunt. His kill had been made less than half an hour after the chase had begun, which was good. Several of the other hunters trailing in a loosely spaced line also had kills of their own to carry back to the village for division among the dens.

  Next week he would start Eric on the hunt, although it wasn't clear he would be successful. He wasn't very fast and lacked the endurance to run the prey down. But at least he could help in turning the herd when it broke from the planned route. Well, he would see. At least he should be given a chance at the hunt. If he failed at that, then the lower status occupations like flint maker were still open to him.

  Leading his hunters into the village, Hath headed for his den as the other hunters headed for theirs. The bustle of the village was in full swing as the evening meal preparation was completed, and the hunters and their families gathered around their cooking fires.

  As the evening meal was being completed the lowering clouds had completely shrouded the mountain peaks to the east and obscured the setting sun to the west as it dropped below the smaller western range. The air smelled of rain. The activity in the village speeded up as the evening meal was finished and the fires banked and covered for protection from the weather; with the Torgai retreating to their dens as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall.

  Barco sat and rocked back and forth on his haunches, smoke from the ritual fire wreathing around his head on its way toward the opening in the cave roof. His mind floated, thoughts and images passing in a timeless parade. Images of the ancestors, of places and people he had never seen, and thoughts of other times. Some of the thoughts were his own, while some from other shamen in other villages drifted in and out of his consciousness. Barco was troubled. He was the guardian of the welfare of the Torgai in the village, and felt a sense of unease at what the future might bring. Something unfamiliar and alien from he knew not where flitted through his consciousness beneath the covering of the more familiar thoughts and images. Things were changing, and change led to uncertainty. He sensed danger to his people, but could put no substance to the filmy feelings that ebbed and flowed below the surface of his conscious mind.

  Reaching into his pouch, Barco put more of the pungent herbs onto the coals, thickening the smoke, and forcing his mind to recede even further into a dream state. The images became more vivid, but the unease he felt resisted taking a form he could understand, and continued to creep under and around the fringes of his thoughts.

  CHAPTER 9: Kraa

  Untold millions of years earlier life had emerged on Alpha 2. At first single celled, after millions of additional years more complex forms. New species appeared, evolved, and died. Like in Earth's Cambrian period a time came when life forms entered a period of explosive expansion, with the very few proving to be successful forming the basis for the later evolution of life. As on Earth and other planets life began its journey in the seas and with time moved to the land; in those early years following an easily recognizable evolutionary pattern. But on Alpha 2, differing from Earth, the interference and rebirth caused by periodic mass extinctions was absent, resulting in a smooth progression.

  When complex forms of life first began to expand onto the land the temperature was higher than at the present time, with the water freed by the melted polar ice caps flooding much of the land; and while Pangaea was the only significant landmass, it had been reduced it to a fraction of its current size. What remained was a large, featureless area of plains, lakes, and swamps, vegetation consisting of fern-like plants; some as large as today’s trees. The continent was unmarred by today's large north-south mountain range, which was just beginning to form amid violent volcanic activity. The sea was large and featureless; the islands of the archipelago still just eruptions in the ocean floor.

  But events were occurring that would dramatically change the pattern. The planet was being torn by cataclysmic change. The drift of the planetary plates escalated, forcing the small central hills upward until they became an unbroken, snow-covered barrier bisecting the continent, and forcing the budding ocean-bottom mountain range to the surface, forming the north-south string of islands that became the archipelago.

  A byproduct of the creation of the continental and mid-ocean mountain ranges was a dramatic increase in volcanic activity which spewed forth large quantities of volcanic gasses, forming a heavy cloud layer which blocked the escape of heat from the surface, causing a further rise in temperature. As the major north-south barrier of the great mountain range reached its zenith, volcanic activity decreased, and the planet began to cool. Gradually, with the reduced temperatures the polar ice caps again formed, lowering the ocean depth, with the receding ocean changing the formerly flooded shorelines and shallow inland seas to broad plains and savannas, with the forests of fern-like plants replaced by the more sophisticated deciduous and coniferous trees of today.

  As the face of the planet changed, so also did the evolution of life; many of the immerging or existing forms unable to cope. The budding age of large cold blooded life was cut short by the changes in the planet, the creatures unable to survive the changing environment and a new threat from a competing evolutionary path. In the years following the climate changes the first warm blooded mammals developed, which were better able to adapt to the new conditions. At first small and insignificant when compared to the co-existing giant lizards, they found their food where they could. They throve on the eggs left by the giant beasts, providing the final push to extinction.

  With time the first, halting steps that had led to warm blooded mammals accelerated until a multitude of forms competed for a secure nitch in the environment. Hundreds of species evolved, both large and small, which competed for the lush savannas and forests, some as small as shrews, some as large as the largest saber toothed cats in the early days of Earth.

  In the earlier years following the beginning of the cataclysmic changes there was still free movement over the continent, but as the mountain range rose and the Great River increased in size isolation increased. The result was that new experiments in life forms on one side of the mountain range were isolated from the other, and the Great River further created a partial barrier between the southern and northern hemispheres of the western coastal plain.

  In its isolation one species became dominant in the northern part of the western coastal plain. It wasn't one of the large cats as might be expected, but a small canine like species. What set this species apart was that early it developed the capability to hunt and operate as a member of a group larger in size than a family unit. The efficiency of this development early in the planet's life allowed them to spread from the forests where they initially developed onto the savanna, where they co-existed with the great cats at the top of the food chain.

  Eventually, from that successful experiment by nature, further evolutionary changes occurred. As they evolved they increased in size and developed powerful rear legs and longer front legs containing long retractable claws. With a long powerful neck, capped by a head with powerful fanged jaws, they became an extremely efficient killing machine; the Kraa of today.

  Like their forebears the Kraa were social animals, living and hunting in packs, but unlike those ancestors had the size and physical attributes that allowed even the largest of grazing animals to be brought to ground. With its powerful hind legs a Kraa could launch itself and fasten itself to its prey with its unsheathed claws. Impossible to dislodge the powerful jaws and teeth could rip and tear the hapless beast, using its long neck to reach the most vulnerable location. If the prey selected were too large for an individual Kraa, more and more of the Kraa could attack, until the prey was brought to ground.

  Nothing could withstand an attack by a pack of the Kraa, not even the large saber tooth cats, and tens of thousands of years before the present time the Kraa had become the dominant predator of the northwestern hemisphere. In their jealous dominance they hunted down and destroyed competing species as well as their own root species and any other evolutionary path which de
veloped from that root stock. The only other large carnivores that survived were those that adapted to life in the dense tropical forests near the Great River, or in the harsher environments not favored by the Kraa.

  Compared to other animals the Kraa was exceptionally intelligent. While they developed a rudimentary language to communicate within and between packs, it never reached more sophisticated levels because they had no need. They never developed the ability to use tools or to record history or leave a record, because they had no need. They never developed a complex society, again because they had no need. Their bodies were developed as powerful killing tools with the ability to grasp objects to the extent required for hunting, which fitted them perfectly for their environment. They had found their evolutionary niche, and most of their evolutionary progress stopped.

  In the high desolate mountain backbone of Alpha 2 little game existed, and the area was rarely visited by the Kraa. To this inhospitable environment a second evolutionary path of the root species had been driven and led a precarious existence. With time, this species learned to stand on its hind legs so it could look further for the approach of danger or for prey. It developed the ability to run at high speeds so it could make hunting forays to the savannas, catch smaller prey, and elude the Kraa packs. It learned to make tools and weapons to hunt because it lacked powerful jaws or tearing teeth or ripping claws. It learned to communicate in complex ways and remember and pass on to succeeding generations a record of the past. Eventually, it learned to develop a complex society for its species. It became the Torgai.

  Locked into their desolate mountain home the Torgai looked longingly on the savannas below with its abundant game and pleasant climate. Then, slightly more than 10,000 years before the present time, the Torgai had decided to contest the savannas, and emerged from their isolated mountain valleys to the richer foothills and neighboring lowlands. There they came in direct conflict with the Kraa. This conflict between the Torgai and the Kraa lasted thousands of years, with the Torgai with their better organization and weapons gradually pushing the Kraa to the north to the pine forests bounding the northern tundra. With the banishment of the Kraa from the savannas other species of carnivores, such as the great cats, were able to leave the isolation of the tropical forests and again spread over the planet. Tolerated but avoided by the Torgai, an uneasy balance once again returned to the planet. Only the Kraa were the enemy of the Torgai, and these they hunted unmercifully.

  While continuing to prefer their mountain valleys for a permanent residence, for thousands of years the Torgai dominated the western coastal plain from roving camps, rarely settling in one location, living by hunting and gathering. Eventually they learned primitive cultivation and slowly established seasonal farming communities, but still retained hunting as a primary activity. Progress beyond that point was slow in coming. Their culture, like that of the Kraa before them, became stagnant, and failed to progress. As with the Kraa, once they found their nitch they had no need to evolve further.

  Then, about 3,000 years before the present time, the Torgai had been sparked into a period of rapid development. Why this happened, what was the spark, was lost in the mists of time, more myth than history. Whatever the cause, the Torgai moved from their agrarian-hunting society to a higher level within a period of a few hundred years. While never reaching the sophisticated technology such as developed on Earth, the Torgai over that period developed a complex civilization with a sophisticated social structure, writing, new weapons and tools, and settled in large, permanent villages, some of a size that could be classed as small cities with thousands of residents. Gradually collections of villages became small nations, and with time conflict between the various villages or collections of villages began. The few Kraa left on the planet lived furtively at the edge of the tundra, near extinction. Plagued by hunger and isolation, they were a mere shadow of their former selves. The Torgai had nearly forgotten that they even existed.

  The civilization of the Torgai flourished for over a millennium, but something was lacking in the psychological and possibly in the physical makeup of the Torgai which kept them from advancing beyond that level. They were unable to sustain their civilization and, riven by political and social unrest and constant warfare, collapsed into anarchy. Now what remained was a pitiful shadow of what had been before. The Torgai not only lost their higher civilization, but they lost their ability to read and write, and with it much of their history, relying on oral legends passed on from generation to generation. Links holding the various villages together dissolved to be replaced with clan groupings held together by remote blood relationships.

  But as the Torgai civilization collapsed, and the overall population dropped, the competition that had led to warfare also ended. With time the Torgai learned again to live at peace with one another. As the Torgai weakened, the prolific Kraa once again moved south to the savanna for seasonal hunting expeditions, but they still preferred the protection of the northern forests. They didn't try to again gain full control of the savannas; something held them back. It was a deep seated fear of the Torgai which had been bred into their bones.

  The present time, to the north . . . .

  The pack leader leaned back on her haunches, and scratched at the fur on her chest with partially extended claws. Around her the dozen members of her pack lay sprawled on the ground enjoying the patches of sunlight filtering through the trees and warming the snow covered ground. Swiveling her long neck the pack leader eyed the other packs spread in all directions, numbering in their hundreds. The Kraa were gathering for the winter hunt.

  Raising her head, the pack leader sniffed the wind blowing from the northern tundra. Over the last several days reports had been received from packs scouting to the north of the approaching herds. Faintly, the smell was there. The tundra ox herds were on the move, migrating from the edge of the northern ice sheet to the tree line to escape the onslaught of the oncoming winter. While in her native language the name of the pack leader would be incomprehensible, for identification she will be called Kraa-Ki. Kraa-Ki was young for a pack leader, barely 40 years old compared to the typical 50 to 60 years, but her strength and intelligence had allowed her to overcome the previous pack leader many years before, and kept challengers in check.

  During the summer months, when the tundra ox herds moved north to the edge of the ice sheet, the Kraa operated as individual packs to hunt the wide belt of pine forests between the tundra and the savanna to the south. In these forests game was scarce, and it was the season of hunger for the Kraa. But with the coming of winter the packs of the Kraa gathered to await the southward migration of the tundra ox herds. Then, working in coordination against the herds sheltering at the edge of the forest, the Kraa led a fat existence. Almost like the cattle of today, the tundra ox were herded and, when food was needed individuals isolated and killed. It was a time of feasting which would last until the spring sun again brought life to the tundra, and the herd would disperse and again move north.

  It was also a time for mating. The packs consisted primarily of female Kraa, since most of the smaller males were killed during the mating frenzy. In this particular pack of 13 members 5 males remained, but that was unusual, most packs having no more the 2 or 3 males, some having none. If the number of males became too large they were driven from the packs and, since hunting was a province of the larger females, would often die from hunger. Only during the gathering of the packs for the winter hunt were the males allowed to wander between the various packs and be accepted, but the females remained separated in their own packs, well spaced from their neighbors. Only during this time would a Kraa pack tolerate the presence of a member of another pack in its boundaries, and then only a male member. At any other time of the year a pack impinging on the space of another pack would result in a bloody battle.

  As was customary, this particular pack consisted of members of the immediate bloodline, and its members were sons or grandsons and daughters or granddaughters of the leader, Kraa-Ki. As suc
h the members shared many of the attributes of the leader. They were more intelligent, larger, and fiercer than the typical Kraa. The reason this pack allowed such a high number of males was in itself an indication of the intelligence of its leader. They were her tool for expanding her bloodline to the other packs, and, while she may not have understood her own reasons, she instinctively knew that by protecting her sons she was accomplishing some goal of importance. And through their larger size and increased intelligence the males of her pack were better able to compete.

  While hunting in the pine forests was poor, which led to a sparse existence for most of the year, the Kraa rarely ventured onto the game-rich savanna to the south. The aversion of the Kraa to the savanna was instinctive, based on uneasiness when they were anywhere near the Torgai; and northern clans of the Torgai occupied the foothills overlooking the savanna. When near the Torgai the Kraa were the hunted and not the hunters, and this fear of Torgai was deeply imbued in their nature. The Kraa could not match the speed or weapons of the Torgai on the open savanna, and only by stealth or by night could they overcome the Torgai hunters. But times were changing, and the ancestral memories were growing dim.

  It had not always been true that the Kraa could successfully pass the winter feasting on the tundra ox herds. When first driven to the forest fringe near the tundra thousands of years earlier the Kraa had often been near starvation. Operating as uncoordinated individual packs the tundra ox herds could be frightened by the first few attacks and move from the area, leaving the frustrated Kraa behind. But while tens of thousands of years before the Kraa had found their evolutionary nitch and ceased to evolve, now the need to avoid extinction proved the catalyst necessary to again spark changes in the species.

 

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