In The Beginning

by Richard Webber

  Chapter Seven

  It was my fifty-first day of travel. The sun was well over the horizon and the day was full of light when I heard the sound of voices raised in the distance. People were shouting. Though I was still too far off to understand what they were saying, it sounded as though there was an argument going on.

  I ran up the next hillside, and taking cover behind some brush and trees, I cautiously peered over the top. Nothing there. I could hear the shouting more clearly, and they were definitely arguing about something. I could feel the anger in their voices as the shouting rose and became louder and more forceful. I paused and listened closely, and was now able to judge where the sounds were coming from.

  I ran cautiously down the hillside before me, moving from tree to tree quickly but confidently, keeping my ears wide-open and staying alert. I could hear the shouting very clearly now, and it became louder and even more intense the longer it continued. They were here, just ahead.

  I could hear men’s voices, and surprisingly, also a woman’s voice. She was shouting even more loudly than the men, and she sounded just as angry and defiant as they did. Now that I was getting closer I could hear everything they said, and I couldn’t understand one word. For some reason this shocked me.

  As I crossed the wasteland I had thought often about my first meeting with other humans, and what would transpire when or if a meeting occurred. While I walked I had gone over the various possibilities, and it had never occurred to me that I would not be able to immediately converse with anyone I met.

  Though I knew virtually nothing else about them, I did know that we had once shared a land, if only briefly, and I had assumed we would share the same language. Apparently it was too much to ask that I would share a language with strangers that were separated by so far a distance and so long a time. The information my father had given me and my brother had been very limited; I had no idea what they would be like, only assumptions.

  He had said they were also human, but they were different from us in the way they thought and acted, and he had sent them away for my families’ safety. It was odd that he said he sent them away for our safety, since he also said they were dangerous only to themselves and could not harm us.

  Given the incredibly difficult time I had crossing the wasteland, I found it impossible to believe that a group of people could have made it across safely. Now that I knew people were actually here, I wanted to learn how they had been able to cross, and if they really were the same people that had once lived with us.

  As these thoughts passed through my mind, I continued to slowly and cautiously move toward the voices. They were close now. I paused behind a tree and took my bearings once again. This was no time to be stupid and jump into the middle of something that could get me killed. These people sounded very angry, and I didn’t need any more trouble than I already had.

  I stayed low to the ground and slowly crept forward, picking up a few smooth, round stones as I moved. Though I wasn’t sure what I would do with them should I be threatened, they fit well into the palm of my hand and gave me comfort as I moved towards whatever lay ahead.

  I was now well within the foothills that I had been approaching for so many days. I had found large stones and boulders mixed in among the tall hardwood trees. There was very little undergrowth, and though I had been searching for food prior to hearing the voices, I had seen no edible plants, not even an herb or edible flower. The landscape was rough and ugly, and the soil too dry and rocky to support any good plants.

  I found this place to be without the grace and beauty of the forests which I was accustomed to walking through. The only positive about this woodland as I now tried to approach without being seen was the spacing of the large trees. I had good cover as I moved through them, my eyes searching, trying to pick out the objects of my hunt.

  I could hear the voices quite clearly now and they spoke no language I knew or had ever heard. Their language was very guttural and broken, and to my ears it sounding more like animal sounds than a human speaking. But from the inflections in their voices and the responses, it had to be some sort of a formal language. I had now come to the source of the voices. I crawled behind a large rock and slowly peered around to the other side.

  Humans, they were definitely humans; though to my eyes they were a strange and ragged-looking group. Just in front of my hiding spot was a single person with their back to me; this was the woman. She was the smallest of the group, though not by much, and from behind I could see nothing of her except a tangled mass of long black hair and her clothing, which looked like a shapeless collection of animal skins hanging from her shoulders.

  In one hand she held several dead rabbits; in the other hand was some type of a tool or most likely a weapon, something that looked like long strips of leather. As she shouted, she would shake either the dead animals or the weapon at the men, who were standing on the other side of a small clearing. There were three men facing the lone woman, and from my vantage point I could see them clearly.

  I studied them, and immediately noted that compared to me they were a small people. The man in front, who was the largest of the three men, reached no higher than my shoulder. The other two men were only slightly shorter. They were thin and wiry, and they looked strong enough for their size, but my first impression was that they were a weak imitation of my family. All of them had long black hair, which was dirty and tangled. They also had hair growing on the lower parts of their faces, which was a great shock to me since my family did not grow hair on our face.

  They looked a complete mess, and there was an aura of uncleanliness about them that immediately disgusted me. Their clothing, which was made from the skins of dead animals, appeared foul to me, and as the breeze shifted and blew toward me, I could clearly smell them. They stunk even worse than they looked! It was an almost overwhelming odor of unwashed bodies and dead flesh. The smell turned my stomach and caused me to gag involuntarily, but I swallowed hard and continued watching.

  They all wore the same coverings of crudely sewn animal skins, which hung from their shoulders and were belted about their waists with strips of leather knotted together. They wore no shoes on their filthy feet, nor did they carry packs or bags. Into their belts were thrust knives with simple handles, while in their hands they carried weapons that were foreign to me. These weapons had rough stone blades that were similar to the knives in their belts, except the blades were lashed to long straight shafts of wood, essentially giving them a knife that was as tall as I. They vigorously shook these long weapons at the woman, and this, combined with their continual shouting, made them appear quite formidable.

  They were focused on the woman, and as I was careful to remain hidden, they did not notice me. Though they were all quite angry, the fact that the men and the woman looked the same and spoke the same language made me believe they were of the same tribe or family.

  The largest of the men seemed to be their leader, as he was doing the majority of the shouting. The other two men pitched in their voices occasionally, but for the most part seemed satisfied to nod their heads and shake their weapons for emphasis.

  Now that I could see them and hear the language they spoke more clearly, I realized that many of the words sounded relatively similar, but they were combined with a great variety of verbal inflections, as well as some hand gestures. Though I could not understand the language they spoke, it was obvious they had a fairly limited vocabulary in which tones and sounds were often repeated. Communication through the inflection and emphasis put upon the words seemed to be as important as the words themselves. Their communication was crude and decidedly rudimentary, though they obviously understood each other quite well.

  I remained where I was and continued to observe the interaction between the woman and the three men. They were still shouting and gesturing; the argument had been going on for some time now, and I was getting concerned that it would escalate into real violence.

  The disagreement appeared to be about the rabbits the w
oman held. Several times the leader had pointed at the rabbits and seemed to indicate that the woman should give them to the men. The woman had responded in a way that made it very obvious, even to me, that she would not be giving up her rabbits. For a reason that was as yet unclear to me, the men felt strongly that she should not have them, and they were getting angrier as she continued to hold them in her hand.

  That this confrontation seemed to revolve around the animals confused me. Why the dead animals? What did they need them for? They were so small; I couldn’t imagine that they would make an adequate covering for anyone. Why were they all so upset about the dead rabbits?

  Though I was disappointed that we did not speak the same language, after watching them for only a short time I was glad to see they could communicate verbally at all. My initial impression was one of shock. Their appearance was so primitive; their behavior so uncivilized and violent. Was this how they had acted when they lived with us? Was this crude language the way they had communicated when we lived in the same land? That we did not share a language was not logical to me. Given that they had the intelligence to converse, I saw no reason that they would not be able to speak my language if it was taught to them.

  If these were the same people that had lived with us, based on what I saw before me I concluded that they had been sent away because of their fierce behavior. My father had said they were dangerous to each other and they were different from us in their behavior and thought process. Though I did not know why they were arguing or how serious the situation was, I could not imagine even in the worst of times acting in the violent way these people were acting with each other. I was starting to fear for the woman’s life. Perhaps I was wrong and they were not of the same tribe. Perhaps they were enemies, because they certainly behaved that way.