Mendaka was fascinated with what he was learning from this jovial giant. “Elmer, I have to assume you have never seen a grass beast in these parts or else you would have mentioned it.”
Mendaka noted his face scrunch up as he examined the rope that held the dogs. “Mentioned what? Come agin.” Elmer asked.
“A grass beast.” Mendaka repeated. “In the north lands we encountered a beast like a bear and three times the size of your eland, with shoulders like a buffalo. It usually walks like a bear on all fours and when attacked it rises up on its hind legs and uses its claws much as a bear does, but both teeth and claws are twice as long.”
“Boy howdy, can’t say as I ever seen the likes of such. ‘Cept maybe when I’s in my cups too deep. Prob’ly why we aren’t ever fixin to go into the north lands. Be guessin these here dogs would be give’m pure hell. Least wise they do the lions and drillenas.”
“Have you ever seen beasts that look to be half-cat and half-man? What we call wyrm-kats,” Coyote asked.
Elmer thought a moment, “Ain’t never seen one myself, but I recollect hunters claimin they seen some cat-men of sorts. Mostly we thought it to be just a good batch of white lightnin speakin. Swore them cat men fled our dogs. Course they didn’t have no skin to bring back. I did see me a monster cat though once upon a time. Long as one of them mule animals you gots. Damn thing be the color of fire with black stripes, but like ‘em cat men, t’weren’t ever seen agin.”
Mendaka made a mental note to relate what Elmer told him so he could include it in the log.
Coyote, who had been examining the rope the dogs were hitched to, inquired, “Elmer, what’s this rope made of? It’s so strong and yet soft.”
“Be made of kenaf, what else?”
“It’s a well-built rope, a little like our hemp ropes, but not so rough on the hands. I’d appreciate it if you could show me how you make the kenaf so soft when you get a chance.”
“Be right proud too. Simple scrutching and retching is all t’is” Elmer said with a pleased grin.
Coyote and Elmer conversed about their dogs for what seemed to Mendaka like hours, before Elmer announced, “Be time we be up and headin for Monongahela. Be hell to pay, if’n we keep the blufre waiting. Spect he might already be there. Soon as we were properly met, I sent Gopher his way.”
Mendaka offered the assistance of his men to help the Blues pack up, but had to admit that they traveled both lightly and efficiently with most of their wares and meat packed on drag poles. Once they were packed, they broke camp and moved down the trail with Mendaka and Elmer at the lead. At a large snow gum tree, they turned south and headed over the rolling grassland hills dotted with herds of ungulates and interspersed with blue gums, patches of hawthorn, and scattered acacia throughout the vast savannah lands.
While on the road, Mendaka got a better look at the beaucerons. “Elmer, those dogs you have, have the gait of a wolf, the power of an ass, and the fangs of a panther, and yet they are as gentle as a collie. I fear no danger in their presence. I know of no dogs that are their equal.” Once again, he caught the look of pride cross over Elmer’s face, almost as though Elmer considered them like his children.
“Fine dogs they be. Die for you in a pinch every time. Had one fight off a lion long enough for me to high tail it to safety. Gave his life for me, he did. I purely do miss Ol’ Bill.”
Several points of the medicine wheel later, as they came over a hill toward the large river the Blues called the Big Stream, the village of Monongahela popped up in front of them. Guinea fowl raised an alarm as they approached. The village was enclosed by an eight foot wooden fence with thorn branches piled against it to fend off roving predators. Both the fence and the gate would restrict entrance but was not up to repelling a modern army and looked more like a secure livestock holding. The gate was open. As they passed through Mendaka got his first view of the village.
Elmer said, “If you don’t mind tying those big muley animals out here along with your dogs so’s we don’t frighten the women and children, then I’ll lead you in.”
Mendaka ordered Stone Face to stay with the animals and secure them. To his surprise, the Blues lived in hogans very similar to some of the tribes of Red Men. A quick count told him there were thirty eight parallel hogans enclosed in a large semi-circle facing west. The roofs of the hogans were thickly thatched with a smoke hole in the top of each and only two holes on the sides for air.
Elmer showed them every form of hospitality by explaining everything they were doing. The Blue Men began unloading the meat into domed smoke houses just inside the fence. The women of the village trilled a welcome home. Elmer had explained that he was the chief of this village and that there was a whole chain of villages like this one ruled by sub-chiefs, all of whom were under the rule of the Pita Blufre, the head chief of Blufredom. He said the blufre lived not far from here in the colony of Apalala, the land of blue butterflies.
“That is very similar to the way my tribe governs.” Mendaka explained. “We have a chief of chiefs who governs all the under chiefs.” As Mendaka surveyed Monongahela, he noted, “I see that you live almost at the water’s edge. But it seems to me your enclosure is for protection from animals only, not men. The way you’ve piled brush all around it would certainly keep the animals out, but all an enemy would have to do is set it aflame and poof, down comes your enclosure. Nor are you secure from an attack coming from the river.”
“Might not seem like it, but we can defend ourselves right smartly,” Elmer said. “We don’t need no wall. Ain’t a body stupid enough to come agin our dogs. Why them Chartreuseans never come this way.”
Mendaka smiled at him, realizing he knew naught of metal shields, long bows, pikes, or catapults.
Elmer led them toward a well-built pavilion, shaped like half of an egg shell, open on all sides with packed earthen floors. As they passed the inhabitants of Monongahela stopped what they were doing to stare and point. Laughing, Elmer climbed upon a dais inside the pavilion and announced, “These here men be travelers from the north, come to learn from us and meet the blufre. Please show these folk the hospitality we are capable of.”
Even though the Monongahelans went back to their business, Mendaka caught them stealing curious glances at him from time to time.
Eager to show off his village, Elmer beckoned Mendaka, Elijah, Coyote, and Herman to come across the hard packed earth of the pavilion. The pavilion was a structure that reminded Mendaka of a long lodge only without the sides. It had a palm thatched roof over massive wooden beams. The rest of the Syrfolk crew were standing on the north side of the enclosure where women in homespun flaxen garb were gesturing for them to be seated on mats. They had been warned of the blufre’s arrival, as witnessed by the bowls of vittles sitting on mats before them. They had hastily prepared a feast to honor their chief.
Elmer was still explaining the rotation of their hogans when suddenly a horn was heard from the direction of the gate. “Blufre be here soon. We best be takin our seats.” He led them to a row of mats in the front, then took up his position next to the blue mat, where Mendaka assumed the chief of chiefs would be sitting.
They had scarcely taken their seats when the blufre arrived with his entourage of ten warriors, nearly naked with only a white apron festooned with a bright blue butterfly over grass skirts. The inhabitants lining the path to the pavilion went silent, bowed their heads, and held their arms out in front of them until the large man passed.
Mendaka was impressed by his powerful carriage. Like Elmer, he was also a tall portly man with a long white beard that contrasted dramatically with his blue face, corn flower blue eyes, and bald blue head. Unlike the other men who wore grass skirts, skins, nettle cloth, and flax, the chief, like Elmer, wore a white lavalava made of cotton that hung below the knees. Additionally, the blufre carried a staff with intricate carvings similar to the Sharaka totem poles. Mendaka made a mental note to ask the meaning of that staff.
As if Elmer read his mind,
he said, “That there staff that he be carrying is a record of Pita’s lineage, going back to the first blufre, name of Zeke.”
Glancing to his left, Mendaka noticed that Elijah was writing rapidly in his journal.
The blufre looked regal in a folksy sort of way. He had a brow that reflected intelligence and a handsomely fierce demeanor which Mendaka had only ever before seen on Chief Onamingo.
After bowing to the chief, Elmer introduced the large Blue Man, “This be the Pita Blufre.” he announced before adding with a grin. “All us Blues respect him on account of his grit, strength, and wisdom. Course, we gotta say that on account of he be six foot of teeth and two hundred twenty pounds of bone-breaking muscle, that that goes a long way to earnin our respect.”
Pita’s grin matched Elmer’s, his white teeth gleaming against his blue skin. “How come you ain’t tellin these folks that you ain’t ever won a wrestling match agin me?”
Elmer laughed. “You be forgettin that time I sent you runnin home to your mama.”
“You mean when I’s four and you was six?”
Elmer grinned. “Don’t matter how old, I done won at least one match wid ju.” The two men grinned fondly at one another before Elmer turned toward them. “This be Mendaka from the north lands. Him and his Fellows here call themselves Syr Folk. They come to our Blue lands to be learnin’ our ways and tell us about the lands we ain’t ever seen.”
Mendaka rose and bowed to the blufre. Pita walked up to him, reached out with both arms hugged and slapped Mendaka on the back, apparently a common gesture of greeting amongst the Blue Folk. “Welcome stranger. Sit yerself down and have some ‘sang’ with us. I specially want to know bout those strange critters tethered beyond the gates.”
Mendaka awkwardly hugged him back and made to slap the blufre’s back, not quite sure of the protocol expected.
Pita looked pleased.
After the introductions had been made and friendly greetings exchanged, the blufre climbed up the dais and raised his arm and his staff. All went as silent as if no one was there. The only sounds were of curious children in the background who were quickly hushed by their mothers or siblings.
In a voice that carried to the far recesses, Pita said, “Greetings people of Monongahela. I be mighty happy to be amongst y’all, the people of my dear wife. It tickles me blue to share your table and chew the fat with my old friend, Elmer. Seems he be in good health and of fine fettle these days.”
Mendaka was startled when a cheer went up from the Ceruleans. “I’m right proud this here village of you’rn ‘pears right prosperous. Gopher done told me your huntsmen come back safe with a whole mess of meat.” He glanced directly at Mendaka and grinned. “Elmer and his boys have fetched these fine feathered guests with their eland sized rabbits, come to see what we got brewin down yonder here.”
Blufre then turned to Elmer and asked, “If you would be so kind, are you fixin to ever introduce these fine folk to the people of Monongahela so they won’t seem like strangers anymore?”
Elmer climbed the three steps to the platform to stand next to Pita. “Friends and neighbors, these here men done told me they come from way up yonder on t’other side of the Great Rock Fence, in what we call the Out Lands.” A great rumble went through the assembly as if the Blues found it shocking that anyone could bare living in the north lands. “Hear tell, they call themselves the Syr Folk on account of they are made up of these here three tribes, kinda like the joining of our clans. Hard to believe, but Chief Mendaka here knows all about our homeland in Kaintucky. Even swears he’s done met other folk from there. Like the blufre said, have dogs the likes of which none of us ever seen. Stead of havin them dogs carry their burdens, they got these big ol’ critters with rabbity ears. Damned if they don’t scream louder than zebra. Call’m mules.”
Nervous laughs circulated through the Ceruleans. Mendaka felt hundreds of eyes focused on him and the others.
Elmer raised his hand in a calming motion. “Now don’t go getting skired on me, cause we found them to be right friendly and good company when we was walkin home from the Tuscarora Hunting Grounds. They don’t even know bout the Chartreuseans, but won’t be long and we’ll give em the learnin they come all this way to be hear’n.” Elmer stepped back and with arms outstretched, bowed at the waist to the blufre.
“You told em right, fellow!” The blufre said with a smile.
After a brief lunch which they called the Feast of Welcoming Guests, Pita said, “My fellows, Elmer, and me will be takin our guests to Apalala so they can enjoy the mighty fine hospitality of my tribe’s potlatch and seein what we be all about.”
Chapter 11 : The Chartreuseans
Before the crack of dawn, Crooked Jack roused the camp for the packing and journey ahead. By the time the sun was up they had eaten, packed, and taken to the road once again. The closer they came to the village, the more the roads became intensely red, worn, and compacted. They had been on the road for three points of the medicine wheel when they came upon a sign post written in a tongue the Chartreuseans called Iliom.
“It doesn’t look like any of the languages I’ve studied,” Long Swan declared after a moment’s scrutiny, “but does somewhat resemble Keltic Ogham.”
As they gathered around, Siwel translated the sign, “Few know how to read it, but father taught me Iliom. It says, ‘The land of Ele-Anor-Ness, a holy land. Let the profane beware’.”
As the crew continued, they found more sign posts, which Siwel explained pointed the way to various other plantations. “Each plant named corresponds to a constellation in the heavens and the path we are now on says ‘sun-tato.’”
As the day approached late afternoon, the sound of conch shell horns and drums could be heard. Alerting the Chartreuseans that someone or something was approaching. Very much like Syr Folk smoke signals and trumpets.
Yorel explained, “The message of the drums says all the people should gather at the Mushroom in the Nyrth Village of Arym Gael. The far off towns of Duminabith, Eng-Ness, and Ele-Anor-Ness are likewise being summoned to this gathering to meet you. You must understand, we’ve never had strangers from as far away as you in these parts. Most likely runners have already been sent to the three villages of Conasg, Iubhar, and Huath, all led by Chief Sassenach the Hunter.”
Yorel turned to his brother, “Siwel, run ahead and inform Chief Eyf that we are about to arrive and that we bring friendly strangers with us who are eager to meet and converse with him.”
Ary looked puzzled, “How did they know we were coming?”
Siwel declared, “The moment we came into the realm of the bee queen, her scouts sent drumming messages and most likely, Chief Eyf sent word to the other villages.”
As the day wore on, multitudes of green natives gathered along the path to catch sight of the queer looking visitors. Some waved and shouted, others stared suspiciously, and a few looked close to terrified.
Upon entrance of the Agathis Grove Village, Ary took a quick look around, noting woven fences and the most curious wicker-work huts with grass roofs. Sheep and goats grazed in small pens, collies tethered nearby, and strange creatures ran through the trees, which Yorel identified as their local band of Lemurs. In the heart of the village, rose a multi-storied round wicker building with a mushroom-like crown supported by large columns of timber. The entrance supported a wicker door in front of which stood two green men with spears tipped with crude stone spearheads. The only clothing most of the men wore was a blue bordered white loin clout. The women wore smocks or dresses of linen or hemp.
Elf Beard said, “The damned thing does look just like a mushroom, just like Yorel said.”
Walking slightly ahead of him, Xelph was all wide eyed and enthralled, overcome with wonder.
These poor Chartreuseans have no idea how many questions one man can ask. Arundel thought.
Crooked Jack nudged Ary. “It’s clear, this is not a warrior society, lad. Not only is their weaponry primitive with stones and flints, but also t
heir positioning of those ‘so called guards’ shows they are more symbolic than protective. Look at the people watching us. I can’t detect any hint of aggression or preemption even postured.”
As they approached, the wicker door opened and a tall, slim, bearded man with intensely green skin greeted them with a staff in one hand and a conch in the other. “I am Chief Eyf of the Arym Gael Clan of the Chartreuseans. Welcome to our village. Please, Siwel, has informed me that you have been on the trail from the north for many days and are most weary. We will meet later. For now, suffer Yorel to lead you to a safe place where you can make your camp and refresh yourselves. When it is time, I will send a runner for you and you may come and meet with the sages who are still collecting from the far off villages. At that time we shall be pleased to receive you properly.”
* * *
Yorel led them through the village to an open gate where a wide path led down to the Aber Gael River with a grassy area that was enclosed by yew hedges and buckthorn stretching for the most part of the length of the peninsula on the west side.
Yorel halted, “Here you may set up your tents in privacy and security. You have my assurance none will molest you here, for it is marked for guests only. In time you may choose a campsite further down along the peninsula since you say your fellow countrymen will be arriving by boat from the south and the peninsula gives a commanding view overlooking the Lir Delta.”
The guest camp was situated on a flat plain abutting the wide river with plentiful grazing and easy access to water for both men and animals. Several small pavilions offered shade and shelter from the winds. There were numerous fire pits, and a convenient well was already there on the base of the peninsula.
The Bok of Syr Folk Page 16
