The Dream Time

by Henry Treece

  Once, his father Thorn had taught him a few words of the wolf language and he tried to remember them now. Words like ‘I am savage. Go away. There is nothing for you here.’ But he could not string all these words together because his teeth were chattering so much. He knew that if he said them to a man wolf, the beast would know he was afraid and would laugh at him. He thought he had better just point the spear-stick at the wolf and shout out as harshly as he could, and perhaps stamp on the dry ground with his good foot.

  But no wolf came. And at dawn he went on through the tangled wood, not feeling at all sure now that he was on the right track towards the river.

  To pass the time through the tangled forest, Twilight began to think about how things were shaped, from stone or clay or metal. Then all at once a thought came to him that stopped him as he walked. It came so fiercely and clearly into his head that he could not breathe for a while. He had to lean on a tree to keep from falling down with excitement. Then he became very frightened to think that he should know what he had just been told from somewhere. He knew that sometimes among the tribes those who were to go into the fire to bring a good harvest had strange dreams and knew things that other men did not know. He had heard the women talk of this often, and he wondered if what he now knew meant that he was going into the harvest fire somewhere.

  He sat down with his back to a broad oak so that nothing could get at him from behind, and went over his dream again. If he was doomed to be put in the fire, he wanted to be quite sure that he really knew the

  dream. It would be a waste to go into the fire if one had forgotten the dream. That would be a bad bargain. So he said to himself: All things come by shaping. Without shape there is nothing. Men are shaped. To shape a brooch you can take clay between the fingers and let them form it while it is wet. Then the sun helps to dry it. But to make a stone brooch you scratch the figure first on the flat stone, then get a harder stone chisel and chip pieces away. The hard chisel helps to make the shape. Now, there is another way, the way I have just dreamed in my head.

  He had to stop there because the dream was not running clearly in his head, like a brook, now. And also because a young hare had come out of some fern and was sitting listening to him with its head on one side. Twilight did not wish to eat the hare because among his folk the hare was not to be touched. Its flesh was forbidden meat. But he did not want the hare to know his dream either. So he whistled and looked up into the sky as though he was only thinking of clouds and birds. The hare got tired and went away. He heard its feet bearing down on the dry crackling bracken and smiled to himself, thinking that this beast could not carry away his dream to tell to the other hares, to spread it round.

  Then when all was silent he began again. He said to himself: When I pour hoof glue over a clay shape, the glue takes the shape of the clay. It goes into even the little scratches and takes their form. Suppose I made a big scratch and poured glue into it? The glue would take that form too. Suppose I scratched out the shape of a wolf and poured glue into that shape, then when the glue had hardened and I picked it out gently with a flint point, I would have the wolf shaped in glue.

  He grew so excited then that he stood up and began to hit the tree with a stick, just for something to do, because his dream was coming clearer than ever.

  Then he grew quiet once more and sat down. Now, he said to himself, glue melts in fire, it melts in rain, it is not hard and it does not last. But suppose there is something that lasts? Something that would first of all melt and run into the shape, and then grow hard and last a man’s lifetime? Clay will not do that, for clay goes back to dust when it is dry Stone will not do it, for stone will not melt. What is there that will melt and then go hard again?

  Suddenly he remembered the red copper that Wander had given him to shape. He remembered how soft that was, under his flint knife. It was so exciting, he almost began to cry. But then he stopped being excited and grew angry at everything. How can a man melt this copper? he said. A clay cooking pot would fall into dust if a man put copper into it and tried to melt it.

  He got up, feeling cheated, furious. He struck at the bushes about him and a little brown snake slithered out and ran away from him in terror, leaving its curly shape in the dust with each wriggle of its body.

  And as he watched the snake, the deep part of the dream came into his head so hard that he did weep now and the water ran like a stream on to his bare chest. Yes, first take stone, for stone lasts for ever and does not fall to dust. Then, with a chisel of hard flint, hollow the stone into the form of a cooking pot. Put the copper in that. Build a great hot fire and set the pot on it. Let the copper melt. And then, and then….

  He was out of the forest now, and suddenly knew that he had gone the wrong way. Everything felt wrong. The smell of the place was wrong too. It had a very old smell, as though men had been there for many lifetimes. Not like the place by the river where all smelled clean and still new, washed by the clear water.

  And while he was still stumbling along and sniffing his way, he almost fell into a little hollow where there was a hearth fire smoking. A handful of men sat about it, and as they turned and gazed up at him, he was more frightened than if he had fallen into a pit of snakes.

  the men were so alike that they looked like one man many times over. Twilight saw their flat heads and slow yellow-grey eyes; the broadness of their noses and their wide mouths. They had dark lips and the teeth that showed between them were ground down and the colour of whalebone. Most of all that frightened him was the reddish hair that grew on their arms and chests and shoulders. In his head he named them the Red Men. He saw their big stomachs and short legs and thick arms. He had never seen such arms, or such hands. The palms were long but the fingers short. The nails on the fingers looked as black as their lips. They gazed at him slowly and scratched with these finger-nails at their shaggy reddish cheeks, or pulled at their loose lips.

  At first he thought they would leap up and come for him. But they did not move, and when he glanced round the hollow he saw that they had no spears or bows, with them. One of them was holding a flat stone and throwing it up a little way then catching it, but that was the only weapon Twilight could see.

  He nodded down at them and smiled. One of the Red Men bared his teeth still further, as though it was in a snarl. But they did not nod, or wave when he waved. They only gazed at him silently.

  It was all so for the space of many breaths. Then they all looked away from him, as though they had lost interest, and held their round bodies towards the fire to get as much heat from it as they could before it died down to white ash.

  Twilight thought of turning away, back into the forest; but then he thought that if he did, they might rush after him and take him. So he did the other thing and holding his hands out before him so that they should see he carried no weapons, he went down into the hollow.

  The scent that lay there was so heavy and raw, he had to hold his breath for a time. Then he got used to it and almost forgot it. And when he stood near them, the biggest of them moved slowly sideways to give him room to get near the fire. He went forward slowly, and one with smaller arms than the others reached out and touched him with short furry fingers. Twilight let himself be touched, though he almost shrank from the black nails. Yet the touch was as gentle as when a moth comes down on to a man’s back.

  Then the smaller Red Man made a rumbling sound in his chest and the others leaned forward and touched Twilight, feeling his smooth brown skin, squeezing his arm muscles gently, even pulling at his long shiny black hair. It was all done so lightly and gently. Twilight could not believe they could be so gentle.

  And each time they did this they rumbled and their whole bodies seemed to nod to one another, as though they could speak without words.

  At last Twilight plucked up his courage and said in Dog talk, ‘I am looking for Blackbird. Have you seen her? She is very pretty and has leaves and flowers tattooed on her. There is no one like her.’

  The Red Men looked
down at the ground, then at each other, then scratched their hairy cheeks. They did not seem to hear him.

  Twilight said very slowly, ‘Where is your village?’

  The one with the flat stone suddenly dropped it on to the ground as though it meant nothing to him any longer. The biggest of the Red Men swayed back and forth on his rock and then picked up a stick and scratched at the fire ash, scattering it about the hollow.

  All at once they rose and shambled up the slope to the top, and Twilight thought that they would leave him by their white ashes. But the big one stopped and looked down at him, without speaking or moving his hands, and Twilight knew that they were waiting for him to go with them. He did not dare refuse.

  He went last, far behind them, hardly able to keep up with their thick, short legs. He stood two heads taller than any of them, but he saw that they were twice as heavy as he was. One of them could have picked him up like a corn doll and have flung him ten paces away. He thought he knew now why they carried no weapons. Such men would not need to defend themselves very often.

  Once as they crossed the moorland, an old dog wolf got up from under a bush where he had been sleeping and stood in their way, snarling, his hair bristling. But they went on and the wolf dropped his tail between his legs and scuttled away into the dark bushes.

  They went in single file, the big one leading and the small one at the end. Twilight knew that it would be useless to try to break away from them. They could have caught him without trouble, and have destroyed him with one twist of their powerful long hands.

  At last, by dusk, they came to a rocky outcrop where no trees grew. And there he saw many cave holes. The setting sun made the rock red in colour. It was the same colour as the men. He knew that this was their home. It was far away from any other men.

  11.

  they went through many tunnels, until at last they stood in a great round cavern where Twilight could stand upright. In the middle of the rock floor burned a great fire set round with stones. Piles of dried grass and brown fern lay against the walls.

  At the far end waited a crowd of smaller Red Folk, some of them with less hair and with sharper teeth. One of these came up to Twilight and stroked his smooth face. He thought that this one even smiled at him, so he stroked this one’s face, trying not to pull away from the shaggy mask. Then all at once he knew that this must be one of their young women, for she held her face close to him again to be stroked. The men who had brought him stood nodding with their thick bodies and rumbling in their chests.

  Twilight felt very hungry. He turned gently and went to the big one and pointed to his open mouth. Big One gazed at him with flat amber-grey eyes for a time, then put out his hands and felt inside Twilight’s mouth to touch his teeth. Twilight let this happen, then shook his head and made the movement of chewing tough meat. Big One suddenly turned away and rumbled at one of the smaller folk. She came running with a square of hide on which lay nuts and wild apples. Twilight smiled and nodded and took them. They were not the best food he had eaten, but they were welcome then. And when he had eaten these, the woman came again with a white cheese in her hands. She was squeezing it as she came, making the whey run out. Twilight did not care for such food, but he took it and ate it. Then Big One rumbled again and the woman fetched water in her cupped hands. And when Twilight had lapped at it, she wiped the rest of it on his hair and face, and snarled. He knew then that this was their smile. It was not meant to be savage.

  He sat down near the fire. Big One rumbled in his chest and all the Red Folk came and stood round Twilight. He smiled and nodded at them all, but they did not smile or nod in return. He spoke to them in all the tongues he knew, but they did not answer.

  Some of them were getting tired of him, he could tell. They were turning away and snatching up pieces of fern and breaking them. They were restless in their movements and were making short grunting sounds and bouncing a little on the soles of their hairy feet.

  Twilight bent down and picked up a dropped twig. With it, in the grey dust by the hearth fire, he swiftly drew a leaping wolf.

  They watched him in silence, then suddenly began to prance and beat their chests. Big One leaned forward and took Twilight by the ear and drew him to his side. All at once they began to snarl-laugh and touch Twilight. It was like an army of moths lighting on him. Then Big One held him so close that Twilight almost stifled in the thick reddish hair. But still he smiled. Then the woman put another twig in his hand and pointed to a spot by one of the fern beds. Twilight drew away from Big One and sketched a flying eagle with five strokes.

  Then the cavern was alive with rumbling and dancing. And Big One came to Twilight and took his ear in those big teeth and nibbled it gently as though he was pleased with the eagle. Then all the young men lifted Twilight on to their shoulders and carried him along the winding tunnels, sometimes forgetting that the roofs were low and they held him high in honour. His head was bumped and his back scraped by the rock, but he laughed now, ignoring such small things.

  And at last they came into the inmost cave which rose in the centre like a dome and echoed with the sounds of shuffling feet and chest rumbling and snarl laughter. And here, by the light of thin reed-flares, Twilight saw something he had never even dreamt of —a whole cavern covered with coloured shapes. The

  Red Folk stood in silence watching him. He saw all the beasts of the land—bulls and wolves, foxes, dogs and wild cat. He saw eagles and owls, hawks and gulls, and a hundred small birds he had never even set eyes on before.

  They were drawn round in black, and tinted in with yellow and red, green and white. Here and there he saw blue that signified the summer sky, and circles of reddish-gold that meant the sun.

  And every lump and bump of the rock walls had been used, sometimes to mean the bulging back of the wild bulls, sometimes the curve of the eagle’s breast.

  And among all these creatures on the walls ran men with spears and bows, thin, black shaped men, hunting the creatures, fetching them down with skill and craft.

  Twilight shook his head with bewilderment. Tears ran from his eyes down his cheeks. To be among such

  makers, he thought! To live with men who did not need to kill other men, who were too strong even for the fierce wolf to attack! Who did not even need to talk!

  He turned to Big One and held out his hand. Big One placed a charcoal stick in it and then watched. Twilight reached up and felt the smooth pale rock until he found a long bump in the surface, then with swift strokes he made a running stag, its antlers flaring out, the dust rising from beneath its hard hooves.

  Big One took hold of his reddish cheek hair and began to tug at it, stamping his feet up and down. The other men did the same, until the domed cavern vibrated with the sound.

  Then he went to Twilight and picked him up like a child and swung him into the air, passing him to the next man, and so to the next. And each of the Red Men slapped him on the back or nibbled at his ears, or tugged his hair—but always so gently that it was as though they thought he might break in their strong hands.

  Then, when they had set him down, the men and women took charcoal sticks and drew on the walls, each in his own place, stags and stags and stags—as though Twilight had given them a new magic to make.

  And at last they were all so weary and so happy that they went back to the fire-cave and lay on the fern beds, snarl-laughing at one another and gazing at Twilight with bright golden eyes.

  Then the young woman who had brought the food to Twilight came and sat beside him and stroked his black hair with her furry hand. He was about to stroke her shaggy head when something told him not to. He saw that she wore about her thick neck a hide thong on which hung a shining black stone. And now he remembered that Big One also wore such a stone. So he did not stroke the woman, but looked away from her and snarl-laughed with the men. And after a while the woman got up and went to the dark part of the cave, among the other women and the furry children.

  And in the morning, much before dawn, Big
One came to Twilight and stood before him, looking into his eyes so softly that Twilight thought the chief was sad, and he wished that he could speak the Red Folk’s language. Then all at once Twilight knew in his head that Big One was saying: ‘What do you want? What can we do for you?’

  Twilight took up the charcoal stick and drew Blackbird in the dust of the floor. At first he was afraid that he could not make the right shape, to show how her face was different from other faces; but his hand caught his dream and he drew her so rightly that he felt she might speak to him from the dust. He even drew her pretty tattoo-markings.

  Big One stared down at Blackbird’s shape for a long space, then nodded with all his body. But his eyes carried something else in them, as though he was not sure. So Twilight made two other shapes—one of Wander and the other of Adder the war-man carrying his spear. And when he had drawn these two he shook his head and waved his open hand from side to side, to tell Big One that these were not folk he wanted to make him happy.

  Big One snarl-laughed then and seemed to understand. Then he turned and rumbled in his chest at the young men. They gathered round and gazed down at the floor-shapes and nodded with their bodies. But one of them, with brighter eyes than the others, and light yellowish hair on his body, suddenly touched Twilight on the chest and then swayed his head sideways with his eyes wide open and puzzled, as though to ask where Blackbird could be found. Twilight bent again and drew the river, with the hills behind it and the huts along the bank among the reeds. Then he put boats on the river with men fishing in them, and the long shelter where the folk gathered to be fed by Wander.

  Yellow One nodded with his body then stubbed his his thick forefinger right in the middle of the river as though he knew where this place could be found.

  The Red Men began their dance, beating on their chests and grunting through their broad noses. And when they had finished this, Big One’s daughter who wore the black stone brought them nuts and white roots on broad green leaves, and after they had eaten, they bent: low and ran from the cavern.