A NOVEL SET IN PREHISTORY
The Oak People
Chapter 18: An encounter with Sakaitz
Bidari
While there is still light, the men sing as they walk and Bidari hardly notices the ache of the long hunt in his muscles. Two mountain goats hang from their poles, promising good meat at last. It was worth the heavy climb up the mountain and another day’s trek along the heights, on empty bellies. This will be their last trip before winter sets in.
An uneasy quiet begins to settle over them, as the last colour leaches from the sky. Until Balqa appears there will be a time of deepening darkness, and they are far from home, and this mountain does not belong to them.
Bidari is relieved when Koldo signals to stop and make camp, just below the path, on a plate of rock which juts out from the mountainside. Scrubby bushes grow around the edge, promising them some shelter from the wind. They spread out to gather wood for a fire, leaving Goi and Tipi to guard the meat.
Among the pines on the ridge, firewood is easy to find. His arms full of dead branches and cones, Bidari is entranced to see Balqa appear, smiling on those alien flat lands on the far side of the mountain, just as he does on their own gentle slopes. The face hangs huge; it is only two nights since the women danced for Balqa’s fullness. Not Ansa, of course, because her blood has come again, the first time since Hua’s birth. Bidari shivers. It is bad luck to bleed at the time of fullness and when the men are on a hunt. Bidari turns back to the hollow and the reassuring sight of the goats, swinging in the wind.
Goi squats down low, hunched over a ball of tinder, while Tipi stands in front of him as a wind break. He strikes the firestones together, again and again, till a spark falls in the right place. Goi bends closer, blowing gently till the bunch of moss bursts into flame. He beds it carefully amongst the branches and soon the fire is burning strongly.
Koldo wants to butcher the goats straight away but Nuno says no. ‘The blood will draw the hyenas. Wait for daylight.’
To stay their hunger, Koldo breaks open the skulls with a few skilful blows, and scoops out the brains.
‘We should take the brains back, for curing skins,’ Goi protests, but he eats all the same.
The hunters sit around the fire, warmth spreading through their tired bodies. They are silent. Not even Bidari feels like singing here, in this unknown place. Earlier they had found a spring and now Bidari sees that Nuno has placed a bowl of water on the ground, beside the goats. The face of Balqa shines white on the water’s skin.
Goi begins to bank up the fire and Bidari settles down onto the ground, pulling his bed skin close around him. Koldo has climbed up onto the exposed path. Before long, he is back.
‘It’s quiet now,’ he says, ‘but we need to keep watch for hyenas.’
Bidari catches the look that passes between his brothers and fear stirs in the pit of his belly. Koldo is not saying what they all know: here on the heights, there are worse dangers than hyena. This is where Sakaitz have been seen.
Koldo is motionless, listening and thinking. At last he turns to Bidari. ‘You watch first. When Balqa has climbed as far as the Scorpion star, wake Nuno. I will take over from Nuno, then Goi.’
‘No! I’ll watch first,’ Nuno breaks in. ‘Bidari will go straight to sleep. He always does. It’s a wonder he kept awake long enough to put a child in Ansa’s belly.’
The sound of the men’s laughter is comforting in this alien place and even Koldo joins in. ‘That’s why I said he should keep first watch. Once he’s gone to sleep, no-one can wake him.’
The others settle, leaving Bidari to rouse himself and move over to the fire. For protection, he chooses a stout branch from the pile and places one end in the fire to catch alight. Then he sits cross-legged, where he can see up to the path.
Far from being drowsy, Bidari is wide awake, his senses now sharpened by anger. How dare they laugh at him? Even Tipi. Bidari tightens his grip on the torch till the knuckles are white, letting his rage flow into the wood. Ever since the spring, when Ansa shamed him by showing her knowledge of hunting, Nuno has been merciless.
He thinks about Ansa and feels uneasy. How did she know about the calf? Sometimes she seems more like a man than a woman. She does not behave like a mother to Hua. And now, at the wrong time, when the men are hunting on the high mountain, she begins to bleed. And yet, thinking of her body makes him itch with lust. The more she shames him, the more he seems to want her.
A low growling alerts Bidari, but it is only Goi beginning to snore. The anger has drained away and his exhaustion is returning but he will not fall sleep, not after what they said. He gets to his feet to do a circle around the fire and it is then he hears the noise. He stands motionless, but there is only the cracking and spitting of the flames. The sound comes again and the back of his neck prickles with fear. Did it come from above or below? A mountain leopard, crouching above him, ready to pounce? He goes to wake the others but stops short. What if there is nothing and he looks foolish? He picks up the torch and goes to look, but there is no movement on the path. It is quiet — nothing but the ordinary night sounds. He holds his breath: silence.
By now, the water in Nuno’s bowl will be full of the power of Balqa. To give himself courage, he drinks from it and as he does so the sound comes again, from above and along the path. He recognizes the chuckle of a hyena and breathes with relief. The sound is high-pitched, the call of a cub. When the answering cackle comes, it is fainter still and Bidari is not troubled. He adds more wood to the fire; they will not come close while the fire burns bright.
But then the whooping begins, not so distant now and louder. They are grouping. Bidari climbs up to the path again. In the light of his flaming torch, he can make out the hyenas’ eyes, small glowing stones advancing towards him in the darkness. When the creatures see the fire, they become quiet, the points of light hanging motionless in the night. An impatient lowing starts up. Bidari runs at them, holding the burning stick high. The animals cravenly turn and run. When they are gone, Bidari climbs back down, only to find Nuno sitting bolt upright, listening.
‘It was only hyena,’ Bidari says. ‘I’ve frightened them off.’
‘Shh…’ Nuno hisses. ‘There’s something there! Can’t you feel it? It’s not hyena. Nor leopard either.’
Fear comes creeping back onto Bidari’s neck but he can hear nothing, feel nothing wrong.
Nuno is on his feet now. ‘Give me the torch,’ he whispers. Nuno’s hand is stretched out, waiting, and Bidari senses his contempt. Bidari makes no attempt to pass the burning branch. Get your own weapon, he thinks.
Suddenly, everything becomes confused. Nuno is shouting for Koldo, who wakes and stumbles up from the ground. There is a movement near the fire and a goat swings and bumps against the pole. It falls to the ground with a thud and then Bidari sees its hind legs disappearing into the shadows. Before he can understand what is happening, Nuno is running into the bushes after the goat, empty-handed.
Bidari looks around for Koldo but instead another figure emerges from the darkness. He is shorter than Nuno, shorter even than Bidari. Tipi? The figure turns into the bushes after Nuno, and Bidari catches sight of his large, squashed nose, the bulging muscle on his upper arm. He has something in his pale hand — a club or a short thrusting spear. Bidari aims his burning stick at the back of the squat man and hurls it with the strength of fear. The torch thuds to the ground in a shower of sparks but the man is gone.
Koldo appears, spear in hand, shouting. ‘Where did they go? Which way?’
Bidari points to the bushes and, in an instant, Koldo is crashing into the foliage, with Goi close behind him. Stopping to pick up his torch, Bidari runs after them. The ground beneath him falls sharply and he finds himself sliding, reaching out in the darkness to grasp at branches, boulders, anything he can hold on to. From below, he hears the crashing of torn undergrowth, twigs cracking, the calling of outlandish voices.
Bidari manages to break his fall, landing on his buttocks on stony ground. His shoulder is grazed and there is a dull ache in his wrist but he is able to stand. He hears a familiar voice and calls out in the darkness.
‘Down here!’ Koldo shouts back.
He finds a path for his feet, slipping and sliding down the slope. Nuno is lying sprawled under a bush, not moving. Koldo is kneeling beside him, examining his brother’s scalp under the matted hair. He holds his hand close to Nuno’s mouth.
‘He’s breathing!’
They spin round at the sound of breaking twigs, but it is only Goi, stumbling towards them.
‘Where’s Tipi?’ Koldo asks.
He cups his hands around his mouth and calls — a high sound, dropping suddenly low. They wait, but there is no answer to the danger call. All they can hear is the muffled crack of dislodged stones, way below them. Koldo signals again and now the answer comes faintly, from above.
‘That’s Tipi,’ Bidari says. ‘That’s his call.’
Koldo props Nuno up into a sitting position and he begins to moan quietly. There is blood shining dark on Koldo’s fingers, where he touched his brother’s head. The three men help Nuno to his feet and he stands, swaying, one arm round the neck of each of his brothers. They follow Goi, who has gone on ahead to search out the easier ground, but Nuno’s legs keep buckling under him. At last, the figure of Tipi appears on the ledge above them, dark against the light of the flames.
They lay Nuno down by the fire, and cover him with a skin. The fire still burns strongly. Tipi must have been tending it, thinks Bidari, even in all the confusion. He is proud of his nephew, who is becoming a man.
The mountain is tranquil now, as if her peace had never been disturbed, only where there had been two goats for them to take back, now there is only one. Bidari examines the empty pole, the lengths of sinew that had bound the goat hanging loose. Something down on the ground catches his eye. It is a small handaxe but not one of theirs: roughly struck, its edge unevenly sharp. He has seen a tool like this before, but he cannot remember where.
Nuno drinks from the bowl of Balqa water and soon he is asleep. In the light of the flames, Koldo probes the wound with his fingers. The blood is drying. Bidari has been dreading the questions that must come and now, at last, Koldo turns to him, cursing under his breath.
‘Did you go to sleep?’
‘No!’ Bidari stares at his brother defiantly.
‘What happened then?’ asks Goi.
Bidari shakes his head. ‘They were too quick…’ He shifts uneasily. ‘I saw one of them — he was no taller than Tipi. He was pale-skinned.’
There is silence and then comes Goi’s whisper. ‘Sakaitz? Was it Sakaitz?’
Tipi gasps, his eyes on his father’s face. ‘But you said they only come out when the nights are dark.’
Koldo does not reply, but gets up to feed the fire. Horror and fear hang over them in the cold mountain air. It is hard to think.
‘Lie down and try to sleep. I’ll watch,’ Koldo says at last.
‘They won’t come back,’ Bidari murmurs to Tipi. ‘Not now they’ve got meat.’
Bidari cannot sleep; every part of his body is tight and alert. He lies awake, watching Tipi’s shoulders tremble beneath his bed skin. It is a long time before the boy becomes still.
Thank you for reading. Chapter 19 is here:
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