by Nahum Megged
Xnen and Yankor broke through the circle, kneeled next to those who had been assaulted, and the dance of death immediately stopped. The warriors picked up the silent fallen ones who seemed to have perished, and placed them on a large table-like rock, as if they were offered as a sacrifice to the gods.
Sometime later, the fallen climbed down from the stone table and broke into an ecstatic dance. In a frenzy, they disappeared into an opening in the cave wall, and we all followed. The tunnel we entered curved and wound its way up. The climb up the mountain within the mountain had begun.
35
In the Great Cold
The climb was steep and difficult. From the corner of my eye, I saw Michael supporting Clara, and Marina and Christina walking together, supporting each other. Sometimes, the climb was made easier by stairs cut into the stone. They looked man made most of the time, but it sometimes seemed as if nature itself had carved and smoothed them into the rock. On the walls, there were carvings of hands. At first, they were separate, but then the hands joined together and clasped together into a figure I knew well. The maze of stairs twisted and broadened and shrunk, and there were places we had to crawl on our hands and knees, or even on our bellies. We continued without stopping in the ceremony of the great passage leading us to the upper regions of the world.
A blinding light suddenly fell from above, and a terrible chill bit into my flesh, burning with the effort of climbing. We went out through a ravine into the upper world and discovered we were on the slope of a huge mesa, very close to the snow line. A wide stream flowed nearby, leaping between the rocks in rhythmic waterfalls. Pyramids made of brown and black stones towered on the banks of the fiercely flowing stream. Beneath us, at the foot of the mountain, lay the endless grass prairie, dotted with lower mountain ranges that cut the landscape into valleys and gorges. On the other end, the rainforest spread all the way to the horizon.
Threatening rainclouds hid the eye of the sun, and the teeth of the mountains seemed to prick their flesh. Strange, enchanted stone mountains climbed all around us, holding rock pillars sculpted by wind and water in the images of gods and spirits. The mist of white clouds began to close on us, wrapping the black-and-brown pyramids and moistening our clothes and skin. The cold became blood chilling. Without shelter, exposed to the elements, we had been abandoned on the slope of a barren mountain rising to the heavens. Had we reached Omauha’s mountain? Was the journey about to end?
Someone gave the signal and we immediately began to walk. One of the marchers slipped on the sandstone and fell into a pool whose surface was frozen. He cracked the icy surface and disappeared in the blue water. But the shamans ordered us to keep walking. The rain ceased, and the mist cleared a little, leaving a trail of white fumes. Beneath us, we could see green craters and blue ones full of water. Thin green stripes issued from the craters and climbed the mountain, struggling for dominance with wide stripes of black stone. The rocks around us were also furrowed and cut into a jigsaw puzzle of black, green, and white, like the shell of a giant turtle. I didn’t understand how we would be able to continue to climb up the mountain between the tooth-like rocks, the crevasses, and craters. Huge stone soldiers wearing stone helmets stood above us, looking down as if they had been placed there as sentinels.
Not far from us was a large stone woman with white-water hairs on her green head. Her mouth was open as if meaning to swallow the entire world. There was a large crater beneath her feet, and the cloudy mist filled it like milk filling a deep bowl. A pearly column grew from the crater and threatened to swallow us again.
The torches in the warriors’ hands had long been extinguished, and now, the fire whose flame was everlasting, the one that had burned since we set out, was extinguished as well. Xnen made his way through the terrified men and women looking at the dark torch. They were all children of the forest, encountering such intense cold for the first time. Their bodies threatened to collapse. Xnen went to the stone woman, crossed through a small waterfall in her hair, and a moment later emerged and called us to follow.
We returned to the earth’s womb and entered a small cave that had just enough room for us. Fire was lit, I do not know how, and several campfires followed. We gathered round the fires, huddling next to each other and trying to thaw our frozen bodies.
The children of the forest clung to each other, shivering from cold, their teeth chattering. Coughs were heard from every direction, as if some illness had struck the journeying men and women. The mountain pilgrimage may exact many more victims before it ends, I thought. I saw Clara snuggling with Michael; I had stopped looking for Herbert. Xnen drew out the long reeds. Did the shamans believe the pilgrims would be able to overcome the great cold with the aid of the sun seed? A pot of water bubbled on one of the fires. It contained the leaves of a plant I wasn’t familiar with. I wondered if the long reeds might not serve for inhaling vihu this night, but would be used for a drug that works against the cold.
The concoction of leaves emitted a pleasant scent, and its effect was the opposite of what I had expected: instead of encouraging visions and hallucinations, I felt my body wakening, my eyes opening. I was filled with energy and my feet begged me to start moving, running, dancing. The people lying on the floor began to move their heads and limbs, and soon they stood up and began to jump and shake their arms. My body began to frantically move as well, and I felt my consciousness completely awake as my body performed its ecstatic dance, perceiving every minute detail of the scene around me.
It was wonderful to watch Clara, Marina, and Christina yielding to the intoxicating, redeeming dance. Only Yakura stood among the dancers as if the scent spreading in the cave did not concern her. The smoke merely made her weep and sigh. The shamans filled their long reeds with a mysterious powder and blew it into the campfires and the cave. I felt as if a bonfire had ignited inside me, causing my limbs to move. The heat pulsed inside my body in waves, agitating and exhilarating. Sweat covered all the dancers in the cave.
A few of the dancers asked to go outside, perhaps to breathe some fresh, cool air, but the shamans stopped them with the long reeds, and blocked their way to the world beyond the walls. A few shamans poured water on the flames, and the heavy smoke rising from the doused fires drove the senses to the verge of insanity. We emerged as one from the cave. This time, the shamans did not stop us. The gate of long reeds was opened, and we emerged into the great cold lost in dancing. We ascended rocks like sharpened knives, and they cut our climbing feet, our shoes, and sandals.
Soon, the coiling human snake formed again, a serpent of dancers twisting its way down the mountain. Xnen walked first, and Yankor was last. Instead of ascending as I had expected, we began to descend toward the large prairie. I could see vast obstacles and deep chasms awaiting us, but the human snake continued to dance its way downward.
Winged people flew beside me, and my departed loved ones were waiting for me beside rocks that constantly changed color. As soon as I approached them, they disappeared as though they had never been there.
And you were there too, alone, or accompanied by strangers or acquaintances, sometimes spreading your arms to me, welcoming me with a smile, other times ignoring me, angry even. My father, older than ever, was sitting on a milestone and allowed me to approach him without his image dissolving.
“This is not where I had hoped to meet you,” he told me, placing his head between his hands.
The dancers suddenly turned to blind and mute sculptures, and only Yakura continued to walk with me in the forest of still stone figures.
I saw the homeless man who had told me how he had caused your death. He told me he had invented the story of your murder because a nameless force had demanded he comfort my tormented soul. I asked whether he had been devoured by the big cats on the day he told me his story in the round house, and he answered that the jaws of the wild beasts had not opened in the forest, but in my spirit.
Then he disappeared
and George appeared in his place. I asked him what his connection with Michael, whose sculpture stood not far from us, embracing Clara’s statue. A mysterious smile curled his lips and he said, “We both have an important mission to complete.” The town teacher stood beside him and nodded.
The visions disappeared, and I saw myself standing among the pilgrims in the great prairie, not far from the edges of the forest, with the mesas towering behind us. I turned around and looked at them. We were in the same place I had reached after the flood, when I had walked down the footpaths of the Sekura and the pilgrims, visited their deserted camps, and reached the edge of the forest. I was struck with shock at the sight of the new, yet familiar view. Why had we taken such a long and arduous path through the earth and on the slopes of a vast mountain, when our destination was the border of the forest and the prairie, not far from Xnen and Yakura’s village? We could have reached this place by taking the forest trails for a day or two.
And where was Omauha’s sacred mountain? If the mountain we had just descended wasn’t the sacred mountain, why had we climbed into its depths and danced our way over its slopes? And where were we headed now? We continued to march and instead of turning to one of the other mountains, entered the forest, where the temporary camp awaited us, just as I had remembered it. I looked about me, and discovered many of the pilgrims straggling beside me were carrying men and women in their arms and carefully placing them on the ground. I didn’t know whether these were bodies of the dead or people who had stumbled during the dance down the mountain and were unable to continue on their own. I was overcome by a terrible fear and felt the strength draining from my body. I collapsed to the ground and immediately fell asleep.
36
The Pyres of the Dead
When I woke up, the pyres of the dead were burning, illuminating a moonless night. Now I knew: Many of the pilgrims walking to the god’s mountain had died on the way. The sacred mountain had reached them before they could reach it themselves. Or they had managed to reach it, and the mountain had simply collected their souls. There was a loud noise overhead, competing with the sounds of the wailing women until finally drowning them out completely. Helicopters were flying above us, throwing flares into the sky over the jungle. In spite of the intense light cast on the forest and the many pyres of the dead, it seemed that the people in the aircraft had not seen the camp. I couldn’t understand their blindness. A deafening blast sounded, and a serpent of fire spread through the grassy plain. I waited for a sign to extinguish the flames, but the shamans sat still and the signal was not given. To my surprise, I watched the fire go out without our assistance.
The noise of helicopters and bombs continued. I wanted to get away from the camp, but Xnen gave me a severe look that made me remain in my place. Yakura came to me, an especially soft smile on her lips. Was the danger over? She held my hand and pressed herself against me, almost cuddling, and told me forest warriors had raided the camps of the invaders and slaughtered them. The survivors were enclosed in pens, and a few converted men, who knew the ways of the white people, but who cooperated with the people of the forest, flew into the air in the invaders’ metal birds and chased another foreign gang seeking to defile Minare’s kingdom.
The smell of burnt flesh and the scent of ritual grass rising from the pyres of the dead struck my nostrils. My senses clouded, and a terrible nausea gripped me. I pulled my hand from Yakura’s. I was convinced I was about to be cast into the flames and join the numerous dead. The nausea intensified and I began to vomit. Then, all I could sense was silence shrouding me.
You came to me and stroked my head. Your smile was sad and concern clouded your face. “It is coming,” you said, or perhaps you asked, and the sadness returned to stop the wellspring of words. I felt a damp piece of cloth on my forehead and realized I was lying in a hospital bed, white-clad figures walking all about me. Now and then, I felt a needle piercing my left arm, and I could not understand how I had traveled so far, to a hospital, because I was supposed to be among trees, in a forest clearing.
The respirators sounded like the blades of helicopters, and the lights of the operating table gleamed like a spreading fire. I tried to recall where exactly the flame had ignited and couldn’t. I asked you how the children were. They are concerned, you said, but in good health, and despite everything that had been going on, they were protected from the dangers lurking outside. I did not understand what you meant.
A side door opened in the operating room. How was I able to see the activities in the room if I had been anesthetized? And what were you doing there, in the operating room, among the masked doctors? Three nurses entered through the door, dressed in white as well. Their appearance was foreign. One seemed to be mulatto, and the other two were dark of skin. Many people crowded in the room. I guessed my condition wasn’t good. There were flashes of light, and noises coming from the respirator. Some of the doctors looked like Indians.
The senior surgeon came into the room, very small of stature. From his movements, I realized he was an old-young man. The others referred to him by a strange name; I heard them calling him Ken-Ken. His face was very stern. He entered the operating room barefoot, and the syringe in his hand looked like a spear. I was afraid, but the three nurses held me still, and one of them soothed me by stroking my hair.
What was my illness? The arrow in the hand of the surgeon neared me. I had lost my voice, but even so I pleaded for my life. A door opened and you appeared again, your arms stretched wide, welcoming me.
I opened my eyes. I was lying in a hut covered by hides and skins, and my body was trembling. Yakura was sitting next to me and she sprinkled a caustic-smelling liquid into my nostril. I gave her an appreciative smile. She returned my smile, put down the vessel she was holding, and stroked my head. It was already daytime. I don’t know how long I had been lying like that, with feverish images running in my mind. In a feeble voice, I asked about the other women. Yakura told me they were still sleeping. She explained it was only early morning, and they had been awake most of the night. Two metal birds had crashed in the prairie beyond the sacred mountain, and the fear in the camp was great.
I dived in a stream. Fish swam past me smiling. I had never seen such fish, bearing human faces. I swam after them, and from time to time, I saw a school swimming in the opposite direction. The fish I was following dived toward the bottom of the sea, and I feared I wouldn’t have enough air in my lungs and would have to go up for air.
A diver suddenly appeared beside me. His diving gear was extremely sophisticated. I asked him to let me breathe through an additional tube dangling from his oxygen tanks, and he simply smiled, as if mocking me. With a dismissive gesture, he denied my request and maybe my chances of surviving as well.
A rock in the bottom of the stream turned out to be a giant octopus, and the octopus clutched the diver’s feet. Mesmerized, I watched without being able to help. His face was familiar, and then I realized why: He looked remarkably like the young man I used to be. The diver was absorbed into the rock, and with my last remaining strength, I managed to get out of the water.
Close to the banks of the stream there was a rock that had a striking resemblance to the one I had seen in the depths. It also possessed many appendages, but these weren’t arms, but vines and weeds. Then I realized the one in the stone waited for me in the water, and the children of stone waited for me on the outside. I felt frightened down the very depths of my soul.
You gave me an unreadable smile. The little doctor hit my head with an instrument he was holding, and the three nurses nodded together, as if agreeing with what was taking place. The movement of the heads looked like a dance, and the dance was saying Yes, yes. I held out my hand to them, but they drifted away and hid behind each other…
I opened my eyes again, and saw Yakura laying wet leaves on my forehead. Xnen came into the hut, his face full of concern.
“I’ll end up dying from an illness,” I hear
d myself say.
Xnen’s face drew close to my left ear, and he said in a clear voice, “You will live. Your death won’t be caused by an illness.” A triumphant smile lit his face, but Yakura’s face darkened.
When I woke up for the third time, I felt my strength had returned. Yakura, Christina, and Marina were in the hut with me, and all three of them were very busy. I assumed Clara was outside with Michael. I sat with difficulty in my hammock, and Marina’s and Christina’s faces beamed with happiness, obviously delighted to see me feeling better. I looked at Yakura, and saw her expression remained dour. A wooden tray was placed next to me, bearing fruit and a gourd full of liquid.
I couldn’t bring myself to eat. My stomach was churning. I rushed outside to find a private spot to relieve myself. The camp was teeming with people, and a few of the forest people welcomed me with a smile. I hurried away down one of the pathways and soon found myself a secluded spot. After covering the place with leaves, I looked up and saw a large rock not far away, covered with climbers swaying like living arms. A fleshy, thick-lipped flower, red and yellow, hung at the end of each stem. I couldn’t take my eyes off the waving flowers. A small hummingbird flew to one of the flowers and poked its long beak into the calyx. The bird drove its beak deeper, and the thick lips gradually closed on it. Right in front of my eyes it was swallowed inside the flower, until its tail feathers disappeared. And then the dance of the climber’s branches resumed.
