Urch could see in the distance two places in different directions that appeared to be lakes or ponds. Waterfowl would certainly be available there.
Urch and Wapa both went to the chief and said, “Thank you.”
“Thank Buowaki, Flumhaha, and Putamoi,” the chief told them.
Cannta told them he’d introduce them. They followed him and Cannta took him to where the women stood, still serving the food. Urch and Wapa thanked the women, and then asked Cannta how to say it tasted delicious. He told them. They told the women, who hid their mouths and laughed a bit. Everyone knew the men had meant to say the food was delicious, but they said the food tasted like slime. Cannta told them the word again and they said it correctly.
“It is winter now, Cannta,” Urch said. I’ve seen no snakes recently. I haven’t seen giant lizards either. Do they sleep through the winter?
“You are free of snakes now. They sleep through the cold time. Giant lizards are called alligators. They don’t sleep in cold times; they slow down in winter. Don’t test them. If they’ve been sitting in the sun, they can be as active as in summer.”
During the winter the men learned the language well. Wapa had learned from Chief Backtament the local plants names and how each could be used for seasoning food and/or for medicinal purposes. Wapa and Urch worked very hard to learn all they could, for the survival of their people might depend on it. Occasionally, Wapa was distracted by the girl. Her name was Yotuimoa. He was terribly shy and so was she, so little developed from his interest.
One day Urch asked Cannta about their first native visit, sharing that they claimed to live a moon upriver.
Cannta smiled. “Generations ago our group grew too large. We divided and came here. We are all one people, but we make better use of land and animals by splitting when we become too large.”
Urch had spent time with several groups of men, teaching them to flake spear points like his. He was patient and the men learned.
One morning Micuit, Utteal, and Cannta came to invite Urch and Wapa to hunt. The two men dressed quickly and joined the group outside. Each carried two of their new spears. They had their backpacks. The men waited for the morning meal. They ate and then left. None of the men carried backpacks. Neither Urch nor Wapa felt comfortable without theirs.
They traveled to the west for half a day and then followed the bank of a narrower river that branched to the northwest. They came to a swampy place where it seemed a forest fire might have passed through. The water was blackish.
Wapa saw it first. A great alligator lay in the water, seemingly asleep.
“We are hunting alligators?” Urch asked.
“Best time to do it. They’re in their slow time unless warmed by the sun. There’s no sun out. The way you do it is to spear through the eye or the back of the head. It’s safer to go for the back of the head, as long as you don’t step in the water. There could be one under the water that you don’t see,” Micuit said. “You may not kill the alligator the first time. Don’t fight an alligator over a spear. Spears can be replaced. These beasts will snap your leg completely off, even when they’re half dead.”
Urch took the challenge. He laid down his backpack and took a single spear, handing his other one to Wapa. Wapa knew to stand ready to hand him the second spear. Urch crept up on the beast. His attention was focused, honed. His muscles were tight, ready for command. The beast neither offered an eye nor the back of his head. Urch studied the animal. He touched him in the back of the front leg, trying to cause him to move in a certain way. The alligator paid him no heed. Urch poked it hard enough to break the skin. The alligator moved, eyeing him. It moved slowly, and Urch took aim. He thrust the spear at the exact spot on the alligator’s head where he needed to hit it. Cannta was amazed at his accuracy. The alligator still moved slowly as if not affected at all. Urch felt Wapa hand him the second spear. He never looked at the spear or Wapa, he simply whipped it around to the position where he needed it. He thrust the spear into the alligator’s left eye. He thrust hard, with as much strength as he had. The second spear thrust finished off what the first one started. Urch was elated and exhausted at the same time. He rested while Wapa retrieved his spears. The first spear point had not broken, but the second one was broken mid-way from side to side.
Urch looked at the broken point. “It’s a knife now,” he said. The other hunters gave him an understanding look.
Micuit carefully took some heavy cordage to make a loop. He used his spear to hold out the loop over the water, lowering the loop to go over the alligator’s snout. He pulled it tight slowly, so it didn’t slide off. Then all the Hoomuhu people began to pull the cordage. Urch and Wapa went to help. They managed to pull the alligator to land. There, Micuit, Cannta, and Utteal quickly skinned it. They sprinkled some salt on the skin. They cut the back meat off either side of the spine and then went to the tail, where they cut the large strip of meat from both sides of the alligator’s tail. They laid the meat inside the skin, folded it around the meat, and tied it all together with cordage. The remains of the alligator went back into the water. Urch didn’t miss a single detail.
“I’ll start carrying now,” Utteal offered. Cannta and Micuit placed the burden on Utteal’s back and they began to make their way home to Hoomuhu.
Urch was excited. The adventure had been educational and fascinating, and he was eager to taste the alligator meat. The Hoomuhu were definitely showing him and Wapa how to live in this land.
“You did well,” Cannta told him.
“I have had an exciting experience,” Urch replied. “Thank you, Cannta.”
“You welcome,” Cannta said in Urch’s language.
After they had gone a way, Cannta said, “I’ll take over now.”
He and Micuit took the pack off Utteal’s back. Micuit and Utteal placed the pack on Cannta’s back. They resumed trekking.
“Don’t forget that Wapa and I are here. Please include us in the carrying of the pack. Cannta, when you’ve done your part, let me have it, please.”
Cannta said, “Very well.”
Later it was time for Urch to carry the pack. He discovered how heavy it was. Of course, he’d insisted on putting it atop his backpack, which did make for a heavy load indeed.
After a while, Micuit said, “Now it’s time for me to carry it.” The pack was transferred.
Finally, Wapa touched Cannta’s shoulder. He looked with a question. Cannta said, “It’s now Wapa’s burden.” Utteal took Wapa’s backpack without asking and put it on his own shoulders. Cannta and Urch transferred the alligator pack from Micuit to Wapa.
Later that night the Hoomuhu gathered around the fire. Each person had a stick to skewer their alligator meat. For all old enough, they took the meat which had soaked in oil and herbs, skewered it, and cooked it over the fire. Parents cooked for the younger children. Then they ate it. The rest of the evening meal was eaten either before or after cooking.
Urch and Wapa liked the alligator meat very much. They didn’t know what to compare it to, but they thought it was very tasty. Urch was grateful that the Hoomuhu had reached out to them. These were good neighbors.
While Urch sat in the sun one afternoon, Yotuimoa crept over to him. She had to speak to him, and her shyness was in the way.
“What is it?” Urch asked the timid girl.
“The chief asked me to make something for you. It is a backpack made of the skin of your alligator. I need to show you how to care for it.” She was grateful that she’d managed to speak through what she had to say without finding herself caught in silence.
“That is fantastic!” Urch said, frightening her with his enthusiasm.
“Will you come?” she asked.
Urch stood and followed her to a building at the edge of the village. He followed her into it. There he saw the backpack. It was the most amazing thing he ever saw.
“It’s beautiful!” he exclaimed.
“I need to let you know how to keep it that way. You should not use th
is when it will rain heavily. It is not good for it to become wet. To clean it, moisten a soft skin and wring the water out. Rub that soft skin over the alligator leather. Then dry it well. After that you use bees’ wax. Not too much. Like this,” she said while she showed him. “See how you rub it into the skin?”
He nodded.
“Then you take a dry skin and buff the surface of the skin so it shines.”
“I will remember that, Yotuimoa,” he said. “This is the most beautiful thing I ever had,” he said. “Thank you for doing it so well.”
You’re welcome,” she said blushing brilliant red.
“Am I supposed to take it now?”
She nodded.
Urch took the backpack and shrugged into it. It was exactly the right size. “How’d you make it the right size?” he asked.
“Wapa helped,” she admitted.
“Good for him,” Urch said meaning one thing, and, he knew, she’d understand it differently from the way he meant it.
He met Cannta outside on his way to put the backpack in his temporary home. “Isn’t this the most beautiful thing?” he asked Cannta.
“It is!” Cannta said, touching it and truly admiring it. “We’ll have her do more with alligator skin. This is special.”
Urch went into his home and put the new backpack beside his sleeping place. He touched the skin once more, then went outside to find the chief.
“I want to thank you,” he told Chief Backtament. “The backpack you asked Yotuimoa to make for me is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had. I’ll remember learning to spear an alligator every time I look at it, and I’ll know I learned it from the Hoomuhu.”
“Thank you for what we have learned from you. There is a huge world outside our little place about which we knew nothing. Now, we have seen parts of it through your sharing. I will ask you to remain with us until you must leave for your cache and crossing. You are free to leave any time. We have enjoyed you and I am convinced there is more sharing we can do. You have contributed well to our people, and we hope to have done the same. I want you to know that when your people come, we welcome them here. They may come to our village or establish one at your campsite and visit here whenever they like. All are welcome. You and Wapa are good men.”
“Chief, I am overwhelmed. I knew it was coming to the time when we should leave, but our lives have been so enriched here, I hated to think of leaving. I will plan to stay here. When we decide to leave for our crossing, I’ll let you be the first to know. Know that both Wapa and I are grateful for all you’ve done for us. I think you’ve done something special for Wapa that none of us planned.”
“Wapa is a fine young man. If he and Yotuimoa come together, I think that is very good.”
“Thank you, Chief. I agree.”
Urch left to take a walk. He was happy. There was something good here. After all the years of having the young blocked from being able to take a wife, here in this place, things were the way he would have liked to have had them all his life. He felt a fullness that embraced his thinking place and his feelings. It brought all together and gave him a sense of stability. Urch stood with his face to the sun and said quietly, “Thank you Mother Earth and Father Sky. Thank you Pale-Faced Moon, Water that moves, and Fire. Thank you for letting me know that a place like this exists. Thank you for letting me live among these people. Grant that Wapa and I survive the sea crossing, gather our people, and return here to live. I have not many years left and would like to live them here among these people.”
Over the months from winter to the next winter, Wapa and Yotuimoa came closer. The backpack construction requiring her to obtain a size estimate for Urch is what brought them together. Mutual sharing was the glue. Yotuimoa had never shared her feelings and thoughts with a man; Wapa had never shared his with a woman. They talked to each other as they had never talked to anyone.
The seasons passed. One late winter day, Wapa and Yotuimoa walked to the pond where there was a great blue heron rookery. Its chatter was above comfort level. They passed it by and continued on the path thinking of nothing but of each other. Once they passed the noise, they stopped at a grassy spot to rest. They stretched out on the ground and stared at the clouds passing by.
“That looks like a large cat,” Yotuimoa said savoring the scent of the man who lay beside her.
“Yotuimoa, you know that soon Urch and I leave to return to our people across the sea to bring them back here to this land?”
“Yes, I know. I dread that time, but I’ll be hoping it passes quickly. I will worry for your safety.”
“It is a dangerous crossing, but with Urch, I have the best chance of making a safe crossing. He is wise.”
“Do you have a girl back there that you love?” she asked the question that had plagued her for a long time.
“No. I did not play with the girls my age as I grew up. I was interested in learning the healing plants in our area and wanted to know how to help people who were sick, so I didn’t play much at all. I was shy where girls were concerned when I matured, and I felt awkward. I felt strong when dealing with healing plants.”
“I understand. I have been that way with my work—making things.”
Wapa took both her hands in his and looked into her eyes. He said, “Yotuimoa, I have come to love you. You are beautiful. You impress me with your amazing work with leather. You create beauty in something practical. It brightens the lives of those who receive your things. You are kind and gentle. Around you, I feel the world is a better place.”
“Wapa, I love you also. You are strong in your body but gentle and tender in your care of others. When you took care of Glatehut, when he injured his leg, I was so touched with how gently you treated him. He was so old, but you made him feel he mattered, mattered as much as our hunters. I’ll never forget that. I have always been terribly shy, and words failed to come when I needed them to flow. Around you, I am free, and my words flow as they do for others. You give me a sense of freedom and joy.”
“Yotuimoa, I want you to know that if I were not about to leave, I would ask you to be my wife. You must know that.”
“And I would be the happiest person alive.”
“You understand why I don’t do that now?”
“Yes, I think so. You know that the sea crossing could take your life.”
“True. I would not want you tied to someone who might be dead.”
Yotuimoa’s pale gray eyes bored into his to the depth of his spirit. “I understand, but I will worry no less not being your wife than I would being your wife. When you love, or at least when I love, my dearest Wapa, it is not about being a wife or not. I have already committed to love you. That happens regardless of what becomes of our lives. If I had to lose you, it would be more to my happiness if you had already planted a seed of yourself within me. That way, I would always have part of you with me.”
“That thought had never crossed my mind, lovely Yotuimoa. You would prefer that I take you as wife?” Wapa’s thoughts were swirling. He adored this quiet, shy woman and wanted her desperately. “Suppose you are my wife and I die on the crossing. Wouldn’t it be harder for you to find another husband if you had my child?”
“Have you not seen how the Hoomuhu live, my dear Wapa? Why would anyone reject my child? We live as a great group, not separately depending only upon each other, but we have a larger group on which we all depend. We all depend on all the others. We are a people that includes, not excludes. You have lived here this long, but you have not understood?”
“I do understand, I just want to be sure you are well cared for.”
She leaned over him and hugged him.
He looked long and hard into her eyes. “Will you be my wife, Yotuimoa?”
“Yes.” She lay back beside him, reaching for his arm.
They lay there unmoved and knew that they had just taken a huge step while lying down. They would no longer be the same.
Finally, Wapa stood up, offering a hand to Yotuimoa. She stood besi
de him.
“I must see a chief about a wife,” he said.
“Yes, you must,” she laughed, “and it’s about time.”
They walked briskly back to the village and Wapa went to see the chief. The news went out and people planned to celebrate that evening.
Urch was delighted that Wapa had made the decision. He knew that Wapa would never find anyone like Yotuimoa, and he felt his young companion was wise. He also was aware that the change in his life would give him more impetus to make the trip over and back, some of which could cower a brave man.
That evening, there was dancing and Urch was surprised that Wapa and Yotuimoa danced as well as they did. They were tuned together like the drums and flute players. Surely, Urch thought, Mother Earth and Father Sky had a hand in planning this joining of two special people. Urch whispered his gratitude.
During the dancing, Wapa and Yotuimoa left the group to go to their new residence. They did all they could to plant the seed of life.
In the brief time they had remaining, the two young people spent much time together. Wapa told her that if the people chose to move to their campsite, he would come to her to live at Hoomuhu, because he loved it there. He knew that’s where he belonged.
She would put her hands on either side of his face and look down through his eyes to his spirit. She would say more without words then than she ever said in many when she spoke. Yotuimoa absorbed him at those times. That absorption had to last for a long time, and she knew it.
The day before Urch and Wapa’s planned departure, people from the tiny village began to come bearing gifts. The gifts such as jerky were from the village. Some were from individuals, who brought bladders for filling with whatever they needed, skins of various sizes, a small bladder of honey, various bundles of special herbs, several fire starters, bladders of oil. Others brought services, such as helping to oil the boat, checking the boat for strength of skins and sewing. But the most prized gift was the warmth of the people, the special way they made Urch and Wapa feel. They felt if they could bring their people to this people, they would give a gift greater than any they could have imagined. This is, they both were convinced, how life should be lived.
The SealEaters, 20,000 BC Page 32
