(The Complete) fable, of: Big-chest [The Legend behind: Mystery Hill, New Hampshire]

The fable, of:
Big Chest

[The Legend behind: Mystery Hill, New Hampshire]






By Dennis L. Siluk





Copyright© Dennis L. Siluk, 2004
[Reedited and Revised: January & February 2007 for publication]

Art work done by the Author

The Fable, of: Big Chest
[The Continuing Saga of: ‘After Eve,’ Part Two]



For Rosa [my wife]



Advance
Prelude to the Past

Profile of the past
[And Big-chest]

1—The Decision
2—The Ice Sheet & Cave
3—Interlude
[Phenomena of the Ice Age]
4—Into the Arctic Winds
5—Quest for the West
6—The Ice Sheet
[Sub-chapter: Pekingg-girl Daydreaming]
7—Tattoo-woman Spots Land
8—Babies
(Sub-chapter to 8 & 9 Browbeating)
9—The Shaman
10—The Sleigh
(Sub-chapter in the middle of chapter 10;
Forty-four Months of Isolation ((behavior))
11—Hudson Bay and the Fire
12—Wall of Ice
13—Mystery Hill
Epitaph
[And Benediction]


Illustrations:
Not in any order

1) Pekingg-girl
2) Broody-bird
3) Jaguar-eye
4) The Cave
5) Single-tooth
6) Big-chest
7) Stern-toes
8) Walrus Grave
9) Map of the Pole
10) Circulation Map
11) Tundra, the Ice Hunter
12) Tattoo-woman [Tundra’s wife]
13) The Old Man of Mystery Hill
14) Graph of Language
15) Toma and the Turtle
16) Little Bird-turtle [the wise one]
17) The Dugout
18) The Two Headed Snake
19) Diagram of the Dugout
20) Language II
21) The Stone Bull
22) The Sleigh
23) Big-chest [Hudson Bay area]
24) Tundra, walrus hunting
25) Big Igloo
26) Mystery Hill
27) Wolf-dogs


Other Poems:

1—Man’s World
2—The Assemblage
3—The Last Member
4—Before Eve


Characters in the Story:

1—Big-chest
2—Stern-toes
[And reflections of Big-chest]
3—Jaguar-eyes [Begetter’s son]
4—Single-tooth [Pet]
5—End of winter [Big-chest’s daughter]
6—Toma [Arctic hunter]
7—Tundra [Older brother to Toma]
8—Pekingg-girl [wife to Big-chest]
9—Little Bird-turtle [the wise one/Arctic woman; no mate]
10—Half-turtle [sister to Little Bird-turtle]
11—Old White Man [?] of Mystery Hill [Qallunaag]
12—Tattoo-woman [wife to Tundra]
13—Ariel [wife to Stern-toes]
14—Fish-girl [wife to Jaguar-eyes]
15—End of winter [Daughter to Big-chest]
16—Six babies born, one dies
17—Poor al-ram



Groups of People:

1) The Assemblage
2) The Arctic-People
3) People of Mystery Hill

See book one, “After Eve,” [for better understanding of
These groups]:

4) The Horde [from the old world home; Stern-toes people]]
5] The Stone-People [from the old world home]
6] The Branch-People [from the old world home; Big-chest’s people]
7] People of the Fire [Jaguar-eyes’ people]


Notes on the making of the Story, and other books by the writer

Briefs on the Authors other books


A note about this story and book: This book has two parts or sections to it: the first being: ‘Before Eve,’ which is in essence, a poetic epoch, of how things were before the advent of the Garden of Eve, which was part of the first book: “After Eve,” and the second part to this book, is that of the ongoing saga of “After Eve,” called: ‘The Assemblage.’


ΒĆ

The Assemblage


Prelude to the past: there was a polar shift taking place in the Hudson Bay area, whereas, this area was not seeing any night at all and on the other side of the world it was not seeing any day: although there was what one might call a shift into a gray period, one for night, the other for day. Big-chest didn’t, or couldn’t reason what force could do such a shifting of the world’s axis had this even occurred to him, and it really didn’t, I am just kind of informing you the world he was living in, or the times: and possibly even the scientists of today might have had a hard time with this theory, but it took place nonetheless, or I should say, it was in the makings. You could prove this, or Big-chest could, had he looked at the stars—for their placement, but then to him the stars were merely light for his conquests within the dusty, and dangerous world he lived.
On a similar note: the earth being more of an egg shape, and is balanced more by the bulge at the equator, as most scientists would agree, and would also concur that the earth wobbles, and is not steady; thus, we have the makings for the perfect world for Big-chest, a world he will find absolutely, and unconceivable un-stabilizing as he ventures out and into a long journey, although he finds a mission in the process. It came, or a number of chapters came, I should say, in two dreams I had recently. So if dreams are true, it must be so—and if not, well, and then let it rest in the fictional world. As we get more into the story, I will try to update you on the earth’s movement [s]; it will help you adjust to the geology, psychology, and anthropology of the epoch.

Table of Groups/at the end of the Book




The Assemblage

“God made man in his image;
But—in whose image did God
Make the people Before Eve?”

Dlsiluk




Profile of the Past
[And Big-chest]


Big-chest: before the Stone-People arrived, which was right after the couple who came out of the Garden, left the Garden, and became part of the first story of After Eve: Big-chest, like his people [the Branch-People], and the people of the Horde, and the whole world for the most part [in degrees and levels], were spread throughout the European, Mesopotamia, and Asia Minor world: that is, [according to contemporary standards]—the unspeakable stupid world that existed outside the world of the Garden. With the world we are stepping into now, it is a world of less language and more brute force, of more hisses and gestures, eye contact, body language you might say, but there were more city-states that had a better grip on the language barricade, it was as if there were a lapping over of time—if not period, from one species to the other during this epoch; some of these inhabitants had eyes like rocks that would stare at you, before they’d eat you alive. It possibly was a time when gene pools intermixed, and what one might want to call ‘Little Eve,’ born long before the other Eve, the one with Adam, transferred from among her group the mutation to create an advance life; yet even so, the mutation came from—or so it was said—from a male species, when a rib was extracted from him, and placed with a transferring mutation genetic code of mDNA; it was but a 2% advancement from the apes it was said, but it made the biggest difference the old and new world would ever know or acknowledge.

Big-chest was the worse of the lot, within a certain area of the old world order. He talk to the trees: nakedly talk to the sky and water: mindlessly think of nothing. He roamed the world unaware of reason, not senses: his sagacity was good, but reason beyond wits is what I mean, reason that said: is there a God; or: is there more to this than I thought. He had dignity though, dignity without shame, in his old world; in the new one there was no dignity, not until he left it—and that is what this story is about: new beginnings [but not without hardship, for life is made up of that very rudimentary ingredient, is it not—adversity?].
Before the Stone-Builders: the renegades that left the Eve-People that is, Big-chest was similar to a sole warlord: an assassin if you will, who dwelled in the forest, on the cliffs, until the bow and arrow was invented, and the spear was brought into his land, instruments of war he knew nothing about (at one time).
His childhood was not good to him either; as well you may know, or have figured out (if indeed you have read the sequel to this story, “After Eve”), nether was his adulthood for that matter: something like the contemporary world bellows out, out when they want to escape the punishing arms of society. In Big-chest’s world, society as he knew it, or I should say, as I am bringing it to you, was in its crib, and Big-chest was the last of the missing-links—if there is such a thing; and if there isn’t then we’d simply place him back in the hands of man.
Impressive to look at—he was with his long arms, thick and muscular frame, beady-stone eyes; frightening to look at—at best. He was hated by the world around him, and likewise hated the world he saw. But with his bare hands he challenged it, that is, the civilization of its day: its: settlements, hamlets, tribes, campsites, whatever existed, he took to heart and hands, gripping it with his deadly force, as foretold in his earlier exploits, now we are going to see him in a different light, which was lacking before.







Chapter One

The Decision

To the north was where the ice sheets resided. Everyone knew it, that is, everyone that was left on earth knew where the ice sheets were—the cold land as they called it, and where the Arctic winds swept over and cooled the Valley of the Caves. It was said it was the frozen and desolate land no one could survive in; after all no one had, I should say a few may have, very few that is. That said, after the Stone-builders had destroyed the Horde, and for the most part, taken over the governing of the known world: to include, having destroyed the Branch-Peoples hebetate—so they didn’t have to govern them, and infiltrated the hamlet of the People of the Fire, there was not much left for the taking, that is to say, no surrounding area within a thousand miles was safe to live in, lest you be subject to the Stone-People, if they did not kill you first. As I was saying, everyone knew about the cold and freezing death trap of the north, but no one really wanted to go live there, not until now, not until this very oncoming winter; no one but Big-chest.
Even farther north was the Pole, the North Pole, and to the west low sea level. When alive, very few of the Hordes people every went their, a man named Moss at one time had, and he made history within the Horde for doing so; yes, he even made it back alive, but he was a seasoned traveler you could say; but how he survived no one knows, Moss was a bragger, and would make stories out that were—for the most part—half fiction, but all pretended to believe him: yet, it was too fantastic to be completely true—or taken as truth, the final word: up till now a lot of it was taken for trouble-free tales: but he knew things only a person from the North could have known; now the question of survival had risen, and the question was: could Big-chest survive in or by his birth place, which was the Valley of the Caves [?] a rhetorical question at best, for he knew he couldn’t with the Stone-Builders all seeking his head; the other question: could he survive in the north country, also known as the land with the ice-sheets? He knew much of what Moss had said, and if he could, why couldn’t he, a rhetorical question he pondered on.
After the Stone-Builders having integrated, The People of the Fire, through: marriage, forced labor, and so forth: into their habituate, and killing all those who would not, all those they found that is, for a few got away, at hand: was not much life left in the area as far as groups of people went—and not much hope for survival alone in this haunting, and hunting land of the Stone-Builders.
Stern-toes of the Horde, was the last of his sect; and to be honest, there were only a few of the Branch-People left—yes, almost all the Branch-People, were killed off, used for target practice by the Stone-Builders, decedents of the Eve-People, who came out of the Garden of Eve, but decided to go their own way, thus, called renegades for the most part.
The next quest for the Stone-Builders—having conquered all that was conquerable in the known world—was to find and kill the one main enemy they had: Big-chest. Five decades had come and gone since the Stone-People had arrived out of the Garden of Eve, whom were in the beginning, really the People of Eve, thus, the ones who left that group, were turncoats one might say, so called by The Stone-Builder’s in actuality, they had build towers and fortresses and outposts all over the known world; all would agree, agreed, this was the world that was hunting for one person: one person alone, that being: Big-chest, number one enemy to the new world order, the known: civilization.
Big-chest’s friend, I say friend in a salty way, whom was known in the Horde as Short-legs, was now dead, and had been for a little more than a decade, but his brother, whom now lived on the cliff above the caves, in fear of the Stone-Builders also, in fear they would come and kill him one night in the caves remained on the top of the cliffs: knowing they would not dare climb the cliffs at night, should they, they’d die from stepping in the wrong place perhaps, and they cherished life too much to be so foolish: hence, Stern-toes made his home nearby, right on top of the cliffs—out of rocks, boulders, whatever he could find, putting those all together like a cave might be, actually making a stone house of sorts. He was now sixty-five years old. No one in the history of the Horde ever lived to such an age; the normal life span, life expediency, was between thirty-five and fifty years. Well, a few of the Horde lived beyond this, even his brother, but very few and I suppose Moss was a bit older than normal too, but he lived a stress free life for the most part. Big-chest on the other hand, was beyond his life expectancy at age of seventy. But again—and one must know, these are all exceptions I am bringing forth—Big-chest, was different. He was a mountain of muscle, had a narrow mind, and was evil incarnate, at least in his younger days, and was as cleaver as a fox: no, he was not your ordinary Branch-person, or Horde member, or for that matter, he was not your ordinary warrior, like the Stone-People. He was, or could be crueler than they, that are why he out lived them. And he was stronger in cleverness also, this is why he out lived the Horde, and he was a little smarter than the Branch-People, that is why he was not dead laying over some branch in some old tree.



Pekingg-girl


It was the beginning of fall, for the leaves were turning colors, and the cool air from the north was seeping down—and Big-chest felt: should he wait tell spring, when the growth of the land would flourish again, he’d be dead, he’d never make it that long, till spring that is: it was what the Stone-Builders were counting on, surely counting on, hoping for. Hunting him down in the snow—so they could see his path, spot his tracks: and when there was no food, he’d have to try and pilfer from the fortress—again, another chance to capture the number one enemy of the world. So there was no winning in this game, that is, staying in this land, it was all a loss, a wobbly deal no matter how one looked at it; and it would be capture all the way by staying put, staying in this area of the Valley of the Caves; as a result, he made up his mind to leave, “why not? Oh yes” he convinced himself; what did he have to lose. When put in the corner you either come out fighting, or die, and the only way to fight a thousand against one was to run, go to the North Ice Sheets, unwillingly, but most defiantly he would, he would have to. But first things first he told himself: he went to find, and did find, Pekingg-girl, she was the younger sister of Javaa-girl; the one who got killed many years ago by a hunter, and he killed her assailant. He also mated for a while with her mother, so he was no stranger to the family.
Pekingg-girl was sweet, and was twenty-year old, middle aged for their sect. In the old days, when he was more vibrant, he’d simply grab whomever he wanted, female species that is: or any gender for that matter, no one could stop him, yes, by just grabbing the girls he wanted, they’d come: but his age was catching up with him, and he did not have the energy to force himself upon her, to drag her all the way to the northern ice sheets, having to watch her every move, wondering when and where she’d escape, or stab him with a big tooth or something similar—so he asked her in a kindly fashion, if she wanted to stick around and be slaughtered by the enemy, or protected by him; --not much finesse in his mannerisms, or approach, and to the point, but there wasn’t any need for such nonsense.
Although he was of an old age, he was still powerful—and could be a good protector if he was willing: for his back, shoulders and upper arms were still brawny and muscular; his legs, a strong point, seemed to be as willing as his heart—physically powerful. And so she said willingly, in her mannerisms, for speech among the Branch-People was still limited to grunts and gestures for the most part, said: “Yes,” and followed him out of the Valley of Caves.
As they walked on out of the Valley, Stern-toes was looking down on them from the cliff above: Big-chest waved, it was the first time in Stern-toes’ life he had ever seen Big-chest wave—even with a smile, actually Stern-toes had to take a double take on that—and waved back, and again, Big-chest waved. ‘My gosh,’ Stern-toes whispered to himself, ‘is that really Big-chest?’ Yes, he was questioning his sanity, his observations, and his eyes. As unbelievable as it was, it was so. It was Big-chest in the flesh, waving at Stern-toes. Oh, he had showed his kindness in ways before, but he was a brute, and showed his dominance in many other ways at the same time when he was supposedly trying to be kind; and so it was only wise to think the worse of the seemingly, unbelievable event. Nonetheless, Stern-toes copied him, waved back a third time, but Big-chest was no longer looking up, he was on his way out of the Valley, past the Branch-Peoples habitat and heading north-bound.
Thought Stern-toes—as he watched Big-chest and Pekingg-girl walking steadily to the north: it was a gesture picked up from the Stone-Builders [the waving of hands that is], when they left one another. Yes, the Stone-Builders on one hand, was a murderous bunch of hominoids, on the other, they offered a new kind of existence, one that had more reasoning to it than theirs, but with such reasoning came reckoning, if not for them, for everyone else—and for better or worse, everyone picked up some of their good and bad traits: qualities if you can say that.

—Big-chest wasn’t sure how this all was going to turn out, he didn’t even know north from south to be honest, but he did know when the Arctic air shifted akin to a whirlpool, and started seeping down upon his shoulders, his hairy and broad shoulders, some eight feet above his feet, and it was doing it right now, right this very minute: the beginning of fall had arrived; it not only cooler it was seemingly more colorful, that being, the leaves on the trees were turning colors, the foliage was drying up, and some trees were sucking up all the water from the ground to store it for winter—that Big-chest knew about, yes, O yes, Mother Nature was his sidekick if anyone was. His best bet, he figured was to go as far north as he could, as far north as to not make it not worth the while for the Stone-Builders to follow him, and thus, try and find a way to either live in that climate, or keep going north and possibly either fall off the earth, fall into a hole that would take him to the middle of the earth, or walk around it until he couldn’t walk anymore—and end up at the back door of one of their stone castles. He didn’t know which options were available so he took them all and just kept walking north. For some reason beyond his knowledge he currently acquired, or had captured the capacity of life to want to go on living; before this, it was not really thought of, it was more on the line of you lived you died, and never thought why, there was not ‘why’s’ available for his kind, or at least, that is how it was in the past. At one time this would not have been fixed in his mind either, that being, to escape to the north, no, not at all, but that was a time before the Stone-Builders, before Eve walked out of that so called Garden, where Short-legs and his friend Little-eyes talked about all the time. He never saw the couple called Eve and her husband Adam, not eye to eye: like Short-legs and Little-eyes proclaimed they had—but every one talked about them all the same.

The Follower

As they walked several days north, they noticed a shadow following them, and as Big-chest hid behind some rocks with Pekingg-girl, he jumped out of the bushes to attack the stranger, only to find it was Stern-toes. Thus, standing there for moment, they both stared at one another; like Big-chest Stern-toes knew there was nothing left for him either, that if he had stayed, he’d also meet his fate, which was death. Again, they both stared at each other—a moment longer, to study one another, like two bears: for Stern-toes wasn’t sure if he could trust Big-chest, he did a lot of malice throughout the years to the Horde, such as, stealing their wives and so forth and so on, but on the other hand, he was trusting in him at this moment, which meant, he’d have to sleep at night, and he could kill him just as well as anyone could kill the other. Matter of fact, Big-chest could kill him right this minute if he wished to, although Stern-toes was built solid, and for his kind was strong, he was not the equal to Big-chest, not over eight feet tall, nor 400-pounds, not a monster as often he was called: hands as big as his head, his neck as thick as his thigh. At one time, Big-chest would have killed anyone who dared to follow him—not even think twice about it, but life changed, he had few friends, and the few he had he was not about to walk away from, again most were already dead. And what he really needed as he stood there looking, thinking, deliberating, was just that, a good friend, a comrade, another person who could share this endless journey with.
Big-chest nodded his head, up and down, up and down, indicating it was all right (with a little perky smile to boot), then beat his chest several times to show he was the boss, and Stern-toes said in his limited language: “yes, si, yes, si…” and got the message across that he was, or could be the leader for the time being. Had Stern-toes stayed back in the Valley on the Cliff, at his age, or possibly at any age, for he was the last of his kind—and surely the Stone-builders would have sought him out eventually—it would have been his last fall and winter and he knew it. Climbing up and down those cliffs to get fish and water every other day was too much. And somewhere along the line he’d end up being someone’s meal (probably the dogs or the pigs or the Manticores).

Jaguar-Eyes


They now walked past the old campsite where the People of the Fire used to live, and were heading on up towards the ice-sheets [the beginning of the glaciers]. Stern-toes was much wiser than Big-chest, being a level higher in the evolutionary line than the Branch-People, whom were the descendents of Big-chest, actually; to set the recorded straight, it was rumored Big-chest had a father from the Horde, and a mother from the Branch-people, and so it is feasible he was a mixture of both divisions of evolution. And Stern-toes, was one hundred percent from the Horde faction.
As they settled in, within the beginnings of a forest not far from where the People of the Fire once lived, covering themselves with leaves, eating some acorns, Stern-toes notice a fire going, burning, it was deeper within the forest. He could smell the burnt logs: hear the crackling of the fire, see the smoke seeping down and around the trees and branches, almost feel its warmth. He made a sound to Big-chest, and pointed, Big-chest jumped up as if to run in that direction and attack, but Stern-toes signaled him to stand-down—and they both started to creep within the thick of the forest, while Pekingg-girl remained hidden under the leaves where they had started to nest for the evening. When they got close to the fire, no one was there; then all of a sudden, Big-chest seen a movement by some trees and started to walk toward that direction, he was at times over confident in his ability, yet no one had ever seen him get beat in a fight. He spotted the figure of a man, he had seen this person before, it was Jaguar-eyes, the younger son of the chief of the People of the Fire, known as The Begetter, and he was now dead, killed by the Stone-Builders, a decade earlier. As Big-chest got closer to the person, Jaguar-eyes did not run, he was tired of running, and where would he run to, in the direction of what (?) He had heard of Big-chest, the whole known world had heard of him; but he took his chances after seeing Stern-toes befriended by this monster like figure approaching him. When Big-chest—and now Stern-toes, had somewhat cornered him, it was obvious, he was feelings like them, that being: left out in the cold: no place to go, no family, no anything; plus, Big-chest knew he was not afraid to die, he could read a man if anything, and Big-chest did not have the will to kill, like he used to, nor did he find pleasure in it for his insecure ego any longer, for unneeded profit.

Single-tooth

Jaguar-eyes moved a little closer to the fire—he was some twenty yards from it, now he was twenty feet from it: as did the other two, just looking at everyone, each other; everyone trying to get acquainted, and familiar, and comfortable—if possible, not moving about too quickly, lest someone take it for a threat and a war start between them, and now Pekingg-girl joined them. Jaguar-eyes, was now holding his pet, a small Single-tooth Presiadapis.
Over the fire was a huge body of meat, a huge body known as the Brooding-bird, with several eggs by the fire [Carnivorous in nature]. Said Jaguar-eyes with his own language of sounds and grunts, and a few words, actually he had more words than the other two for his group was even one level higher than Stern-toes in development, yet one level lower than the Stone-people: which Stern-toes understood slightly,
“et, et dith mee,” he said, and he and Stern-toes both looked at Big-chest, all knowing one another somewhat from the past: all smiled, and Big-chest for the second time in Stern-toes’ life, Big-chest didn’t kill anyone out of enmity. He actually smiled—thought Stern-toes—and was so hungry, and getting weak, he grabbed the leg of the monster-bird, and devoured it in a few minutes while the others ate vigorously, but at a slightly slower pace.
Even though Big-chest seemed to be a new person inside to everyone, and his ferociousness was tamed compared to how it used to be, he demanded his female mate be by him, he was not willing to share her: but then he normally didn’t, I mean, he just never did, or never would, he had a double standard, and didn’t think anything of it, as if it was supposed to be that way. But this was not of any consequence to the other two males; they always knew Big-chest had a passion, if not a lustful desire for all the sex he could get, even in his aging it never seemed to cut back.



Broody-bird


As the night lingered on, both Jaguar-eyes and Stern-toes drew pictures in the sand, and tried to communicated with one another, as well as with Big-chest, all trying desperately not to offend anyone, especially Big-chest, lest they die before they even touch the ice of the north; so they seemed to connect and all fell to sleep, happily for once in their lives; and to be blunt and for the first time in Big-chest’s life, he shut both eyes and fell into a deadly sleep. He had never done this before, he had never dared to; he slept with one eye open always, and that was not an uncommon practice for any species of his environment. Sleep meant death in the past.
—In the morning, when all awake, Big-chest again—somehow understanding, and hit his chest several times at Jaguar-eyes, and Jaguar-eyes knew his reputation, and nodded his head, almost bowing it, but short of that, in essence, saying he was the leader, or that he did not protest to his being the leader. Then Big-chest smiled, and started to eat another portion of the big-bird. It was the second time now that either Big-chest or Stern-toes had eaten meat cooked, and the faces they were making showed it. Even Pekingg-girl, whom was swallowing the meat down whole, was surprised at its flavor. Stern-toes started to vomit it up at first, and then slowly he started chewing it with more vitality, like he did last night, thus, finding out, it digested well that way.


The Fable of Big Chest


Chapter Two

Notes: Ice Ages are often triggered by warmer climates by the poles (known as: polar warming)—: this snow from the ice cap falls to lower latitudes; in essence, this is what was happening during Big-chest’s lifetime.


The Ice Sheet and the Cave
The Cave

And so it was, or seemed: a new group was born, or was being created, a good sample of everyone who existed in the old world environment seemed to be stepping into Big-chest’s path (except for the Stone-builders), a little bit of this and that, that is to say. At hand, were three groups now, the Branch-People, the last survivor of the Horde, and a royalty of the Fire-People? ‘Had fate brought them to gather’ thought Pekingg-girl, as she looked at each and everyone within the group, as they all sat around the fire—watching it flicker about, warming up; that in itself was a new experience for all but Jaguar-eyes: who still eating the big bird three days later, as they all sat around enjoying the evening; possibly it was fate yes, why not, mixed with necessity of course.
Stern-toes had weapons of stone, and Jaguar-eyes had spears, and Big-chest, muscles to spare, and they had a pet that seemed to be able to sense any danger, incoming predators that is, long—long before they could be seen: even when birds flew over head, or were about to, Single-tooth would squeal with a high pitch: “eek…eek…eek,” and all eyes would look where Single-tooth was looking—and sure enough, the birds would appear a minute or so flying over head


[Manifestations]

as they all sat by the fire, Big-chest seemed to fall into a staring means, a reflection mode, one that carried him off to a vision world: it was dim, faded as always, but it lasted longer this time, that is, his reflections. He’d get those off and on, but they’d fad reminiscent of a dream, not being able to put the pieces together, but he sometimes could—like this very moment—remembering someone who seemed to represent his father, a caretaker of sorts, a big blob of muscle and anger, a breathing thing, with not much laughter, and this personage would come back to the huge tree they lived in and eat everything in sight: bananas, and other fruits, and kill animals and rip them apart, sometime sharing, most of the time not. He’d then grab his ear and push him out of the branches, instructing him to go hunt, and bring back prey, food, and they’d eat it. He was a harsh father, yet he knew it was a harsh world
at times, he’d sneak down to the Horde and visit an old woman, he never knew who she was, but she was always kind to him, possibly his mother, if not, he had wished it were. She’d sit in the back of a cave all alone just rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth with her body, her back arched, and her head almost touching her feet, hour after hour: then he’d show up, and she’d get an erect back, and a slight smile. Oh he remembered that smile, and he’d often leave a piece of meat for her, and she’d be thankful. And when he left she’d rock back into her rhythm again, the smile gone
she always seemed to have a little water for him, a piece of old banana waiting or him, old but he’d eat it, not sure why he ate it, to please her of course, but why, the real way, why would he not just through it at her (like he did to everyone else), but he couldn’t, he ate it, and smiled when he did—a premonition filled his black blood, during these excursions.
Outside of the cave he didn’t smile though, it was as his father said it was a tough world
his father knew he went to the old woman’s cave, and he never stopped him, but never talked about her either, or visited her, never acknowledge her, only him did he recognize, and barley that.

As the fire continued to burn and flicker, the warmth of the fire brought to Big-chest, other reflections. He could feel her body heat when he visited her, yes when he visited her, O yes, she had body heat, but what he felt was warm inside, not knowing why. He almost showed tears in his eyes as he reflected. It was one of the few, if any, few good memories he had. Oh he had a few with Short-legs, and his sidekick Little-eyes, but it was out of his fierceness that their friendship developed, if you could even call it that. This old woman was never afraid of him. And she died, yes died. Then, after her death, he never went back into that cave, never again, not even once. As the story goes: a lion crept into it one night and killed her, ate her up: yes, took away his only fond memory. The only name he ever knew her as, was Poor al-ram.
Big-chest was rather young back then it was good to reflect, thought Big-chest, sad or not, it felt good, and terrible; good because he discovered he had some good moments in his life; bad because they were painful ones for some reason, but whatever it was, that old woman, and that bulk of an old man carved into him survival, and a touch of ‘caring for…’ not knowing what else to call it; as he looked about the fire in the circle, a circle of friends now, he was acquiring that ‘caring for…’ sprit, I suppose, slowly, slowly…






Big-chest


It was the forth morning at the campfire, and Big-chest who was a survivor made a decision to leave, and he beat his chest for all to follow, and accordingly they did. Jaguar-eyes put out the fire, as Stern-toes gathered water putting it in a skin container now, something he had picked up a few years back by watching the Stone-Builders; and Pekingg-girl, smoothed out the leaves around the camp, and did what little cleaning that was necessary and joined Big-chest as they all rallied together, and headed on through the thick wooded area northbound.

—As the winds started to pickup, on their third day of marching after leaving the campsite, the cold was getting to Stern-toes, so with the carcass of the Broody-bird they had eaten, he saved its hide; he made coverings for the shoulders and chest of all the members of the Assemblage. Big-chest didn’t need his—or so he said, and possibly it was true with all the hair he had covering his body—and gave his to Pekingg-girl; accordingly, she had two now and as Jaguar-eyes did a double take on Big-chest after doing this, he simply raised his eyebrows, --smiled feeling there was no reason in disturbing the peace: saying with in his heart’s eye, ‘if he wanted to give it away, it was his business.’ And on their way they all went, the happy-four.


Stern-toes and the Water




It proved to be—after two more weeks of walking north—it proved to be quite a rough journey, through its, rocky and roughed terrain. Jaguar-eyes was the best hunter of the cluster, as was Big-chest the mightiest and bravest, and Stern-toes the smartest, and Pekingg-girl, the cleanest, and the one who did most of the cleaning up for everyone. Single-tooth followed Jaguar-eyes all around, but also seemed to take a liking to Big-chest, as he’d sit by his side, thus, if Jaguar-eyes fell to sleep at night or day or anytime he was liken to a bodyguard; for Big-chest always slept with an eye open, for the most part, but was experimenting with closing them.
All in all this group was walking into what was left of an Ice Age, an Ice Age, not sure which one, or what stage it was in, but it was getting colder as they stepped forward and drifted further north. The closer they got to the ice-sheets they could almost smell them, smell the ice, feel it in their veins, and taste it in their lungs—the closer they got, temperatures raised for a while then within this hemisphere they starting to lose energy quicker more drastically; at which time, Big-chest now requested his covering for his back and shoulders: requested them back from Pekingg-girl, a little embarrassed to ask, somewhat discomfited, but it was now a matter of survival, and he had learned to suck in his pride when such things stood in his way: face to face with him; pride was not a thing to be destroyed by, for it could do just that, pride was a thing to honor.
In addition to other duties Pekingg-girl acquired, she was given the job of carrying branches on her back tied and wrapped in skins. It was accepted as a gallant trust, and she most willingly did it. So often she’d feel useless, and now to be needed was to be honored, a great feeling for her.
Although each and everyone of the group often times looked in back of them, not missing anyone in particular from their old home or environment per se: just trying to remember what was back there—which was really nothing, and that was always to be their final conclusion, there was really no retreat, nothing worthwhile to go back to; hence, the closer they got to the Greenland Sea the better.

—As their journey lengthened a bit, they noticed a few animal remains about, frozen, bones lying in bog piles and old rock beds, they found themselves picking meat off the dead frozen animals when none could be found; meat that they warmed up of course, for now it was the main event of the evening, that is, to sit by the fire with a piece of meat, and talk about the day, enjoy the meat (yet at times frozen meat would do also)—it would seem they had options now, and ate whatever was available.
Beyond one certain area they found somewhat of a graveyard for dead Arctic Walrus’; nearby they also found an empty cave, it was, or looked approximating to be a burial cave of sorts, for there were—way in the back—stacked up, and stack under some rocks, human bones. From the assemblage of species that were spread throughout the cave, the bones were of all sizes and dimensions: it seemed other animals had come into this cave and either died of old age: was eaten by a praetor, and of course died a paralyzing death, or snow bound and was overwhelmed, and again died a frozen death. All in all, death reeked throughout the cavern.

Quickly, Jaguar-eyes started a fire and Pekingg-girl went looking for more wood; as the evening seeped into the environment, all got close together in a circle as to radiate more body heat for one another.

Arctic Walrus’s Remains
Chapter Three





Map of the Pole in Hudson Bay
[The pole was not always in the same location]



Interlude
[Phenomenon of the Ice Age]





Man’s World

“The World has its phenomenon’s, and they all come to life in man’s: dreams and visions, and if he lives long enough—his realities. ‘After Eve,’ is one such phenomenon.”



I must say at this intersection of my story, and I must give part of it away by telling you this, for I feel compelled to: as this group headed northbound, they were also stepping into what one might call a observable fact, like the Garden of Eve, in the first book I wrote, pertaining to this very story, of which was of course, the stepping stone to this story—and this being an extension of the previous one; this one consisting of two-dreams within a few days, the other one being one long, very long dream-vision. Now when I say observable fact, I mean something unusual, yet a phenomenon in its own right.
So saying, it is believed, and can be proven: but I am not here to prove anything, but in this story, it should not be taken that the North Pole of today is where it was when Big-chest was alive; oh no, that would be hideous, and not even workable for him—or this story, or practical, nor would it satisfy Mother Nature; in all printability, the group headed north, and north would soon turn into West, and it was, the North Pole at one time existing in the Yukon District, and then again it was in the Greenland Sea area and at another time in the far past, it was in the Hudson Bay area [amongst other places]. And then today we have it where it is, in its geographical location—for now anyhow, or one can also point to its magnetic positions, both being quite a distance apart. But what is actually happening now to Big-chest is that they are, in point of fact—walking into the Arctic region, and will find the Arctic waters are not as wintry as expected, rather a sharp warmer climate, as will be the climatic changes taking place when they, if they—shift west.
Likewise, as they venture into the unknown of the day, they will see the sites of the mountains, when they are really piles of volcanic matter? We are talking about the European side of the world still; all in all, the transition of the North Pole is in transition at this very moment in this story, and in the last 120,000-years it should be noted, it has changed a number of times as I previous said (if we were to go back further in this story, it would have changed positions potentially some 200-times), some believe by the movement of the crust of the earth; producing at times land bridges for migration purposes, and still others believe the crossing of the continents was completed by sunken continents, and yet another theory is crossing by ice, such as ice-bergs or one-hundred mile ice sheets floating from one continent to the other. This is really not my concern, that is, how it happened in the past, that being, farther back than Big-chest, it just did happen, and in this case we got to get Big-chest moving on to where fate calls him. I just hope they will leave their cave and go on further to discover this phenomena and then they will believe, if not you, and so my dream has pointed out. Should they not, they will be left resembling the bones of the walruses. And so we have an Ice Age in the changing mode, dead walruses, and a group of people that seem to be getting along, quite a different scenario than the last hypothesis in: ‘Before Eve’.



The Last Member

[It hit each and every member privately.]


There was one more member
That should have been counted—
But no one knew who it was:
On their long journey into the Arctic

He was even counted by his friends,
—Somehow, someway; but once




[Part one of the poem: part two will be in the end chapter]


Chapter Four


Into the Arctic Winds



Big-chest and his group, now on their third month together, still living in the cave, that is, the cave nearby where the walrus grave remains, a reminder that winter can be a fatal dilemma; a dilemma in the sense that on one hand it might be wise to secure a dwelling before full winter arrives, depending on if: he or she knows how long the winter is going to be; last, but then, grandfather-winter might not leave as expected; thus, what was going on in their minds was: trying to out wait the winter, when they had no idea they were entering what was considered the shifting of the poles. And the coldest area was right where they were; which was also the least changeable area.

—One morning, Single-tooth ventured out into the snow and dug a hole in it; it snowed heavily the night before, and a lot of moister was in the air which was in the snow that had fallen, as a result, the heavy snow with all its condensation of water made for a nice dugout shelter for the animal: as Jaguar-eyes looked at him doing this, digging in the snow making a kind of cave type home: he noticed he had dug what was to be the fist ‘igloo.’
“Look, look?” he said to the group, and they all stared with excitement, it was simple, but amazing. Thought Stern-toes, as he stared and gazed at this marvel, this home, made out of the very element they were trying to avoid—snow and ice, frozen water. Hence, they could leave this cave move on north and build a bigger igloo out of snow for shelters as needed—that is, while in search for a permanent home; as a result, he invented images of this in his mind: what a great idea he thought: build a shelter right out of the elements that freezes one to death (poetic-justice for Mother Nature). If the animal could create one so could they, and live in it:
‘Yes, Yes,’ he said, jumping up and down while the others looked at him strangely. He explained this to the group, as they were all watching now, especially Jaguar-eyes
next, Jaguar-eyes experimented, and left Single-tooth out in the bitter-cold that evening: in his make-shift igloo—to see how his body would endure within the sanctuary, and the next morning to everyone’s surprise, he [he being: Single-tooth] came out alive, walked out a bit cold, stiff, but alive, and with warm blood circulating throughout his body—this was marvelous, if not down right the best invention of the century, and feasibly the first experiment every made in dealing with climate. Then the animal ran into the warm surroundings of the cave, laid flat on his stomach as to absorb the heat, and so he knew the difference, and appreciated it: such simple things thought Stern-toes. All were filled with astonishment.
“Should we all go farther north?” asked Jaguar-eyes looking at Stern-toes, Big-chest, and the others.
Big-chest feeling a bit squeamish—at the fact that, if he was to say no in front of everyone—at that moment he’d feel foolish (and he didn’t know how to, except shake his head no); but it was a good idea he mulled over in the back of his mind, he just didn’t speak first: but something did come out of his mouth, that being, his very first, real word that all the group understood, “yay!” meaning yes; for all practical purposes it was just fine for everybody. And everyone jumped up and down with joy in every movement, with every limb swaying in the air—which was on one hand a desire for all, on the other, a petrified step for all—but for Big-chest speaking a real word—and it was ‘yes’ was a step forward for the group in understanding his commands. Furthermore, this was a prideful moment in the life of Big-chest, if not his biggest one to date. To be frank, the word ‘no,’ for Big-chest, really didn’t need a sound; everyone knew when he meant no. He now convinced himself he was, as he always tried to be, or as he tired to ‘show and tell,’ of a higher order, like that old woman that resided in the cave when he was a young lad, and she refused to live in the trees.

As the next few days passed, and everyone was getting ready to move on, Big-chest was over extending the word to “yaaaaay,” but even so, all understood him. The next word then came up, which was to be a universal word for them, that being the word for food: “neqe” and again all understood it.
And so here was Big-chest telling everyone, “neqe, neqe!” when he added two together, it was understood, he wanted more food, simple as it maybe, it also took a bit of doings to negotiate this dual word to meaning, that being, he had to hit his chest a few times and get their attention, but soon after, they (the group) got the full understanding; and when it was brought back [the food], he’d say “yay,” or yes, but in a pleasant manner of course, which was in essence, a ‘thank you;’ but yet, in a more resilient way than he had spoken before: almost as if he was testing his own skills out, and owning the two new words, and proud to own them: he was becoming an accomplished orator in his own right, well, almost speaking; his new communicational skills were a highlight of the moment; liken to a child who just discovered a new game; as if he was the discoverer of the new game; everyone thought it was quite desirable to watch his appreciation of the new skill, as it was even for them a foot forward in the groups language barricade: or better put, as it diminished some of that obstruction. The way it was in the days in the Valley of the Caves was to the extreme for him to connect or communicate with another species other than frighten them away from him, or scare them to submission. They all needed one another and they all knew it now: even Big-chest could not afford to kill at will anymore, nor was it his desire, yet it was still, somewhat still I should say, imprinted in him.
This time they were prepared as they left the cave to go on forward with their journey north. They used snow for their drinking water—carried wood for fire, as they would melt some snow during the night, while putting some snow on the rocks as it would melt into a container under the rocks, that is, melting onto and over the rock and into the container below—Jaguar-eyes came up with that idea. Save for they were learning as they journeyed into and onto the glaciers ahead of them, life was becoming a lesser hardship, then previously in their old surroundings, as they journeyed together—less fearful, if not feeling more secure in the fact they could fight the elements of nature as long as they realized they did not have control over it, and worked together.
When, they were hungry and no food was around, they found grass they’d eat. Yes, one could survive on grass they learned, as they did, yet when they ate it, they’d get sick and puke it up, or shit it out, and sometimes when they ate raw meat from the foul: wild turkeys in particular, they would find a huge worm creeping out their anis, and have to pull the lengthy, several foot worm out by hand. They learned quickly to cook bird-meat or suffer the consequences. They were finding not all the land was snowbound, the farther they went north and northwest.
They killed a few walrus’ but it was a bit clumsy doing so, in particular for Jaguar-eyes to do so that is, for he had not killed such creatures before, and to run after them the way he did, when found—was quite the chore; plus, often times they’d get away, and once they found their way back to the sea, they’d jump into their refuge-hole, dive deep to escape, this was what Jaguar-eyes was discovering—a lot of drudgery for nothing at times. But he did one day kill a huge one, so massive, so monstrous when they cooked him they found that his body, his hide was big enough to dress him up, akin to a reindeer, covering him from head to toe with skins. He used the tusks for weapons. And his bones were used for beams in the igloos they made to support at times the roof, as they learned how to cut the ice and snow into blocks, and curve the blocks, so when they placed them in position on top of the igloo they’d not fall on their heads. It was an ugly, and time-consuming task, this trial and error learning, but it was a laugh now and then—and that in it was good medicine for the group indeed.
Big-chest used to get mad at Short-legs and Little-eyes decades back, for laughing all the time, matter-of-fact, they laughed even when he was killing some of the Stone-People once, and he never new quite why, now he was starting to laugh, it felt good: so he had learned now, to laugh is to feel good. So many things to learn, at such an old age he pondered: was it really possible to keep learning: yes he convinced himself; it was possible, if one was willing.
They had killed [they being: the group members] a reindeer some time back and used his hair for strings, making rope out of it all, then tying this and that together, as they pulled their supplies tightly into bag type forms, wrapped in skin and thrown over their backs. Pekingg-girl was carrying about seventy pounds of fire wood, and Big-chest about two hundred-pounds of meat, and Stern-toes was carrying several skins, as Jaguar-eyes and his pet followed the stars northwest.
As they got farther onward, they noticed the closer they got to the pole region or what they thought was the center of the northland, the warmer the winds were coming across the ocean. It was still cold, but not as arctic kind coldness, as it was in the cave. They build igloos out of the snow still, and found by cutting a piece of ice out of a nearby pond or lake, they could put it in for a window. Sometimes they even cut it right out of the ice they were on, when they were on it for long periods of time, for at times the mountains came right up and out and above the glaciers and they tracked them for awhile to get off the ice; and still yet, while on the ice they found small lakes formed (water holes, ponds or pools) right on the ice, only a few feet deep.

Sitting one night in an igloo they had built, Big-chest made a suggestion, with his hands and his two new words, yes, and food, then pointed west, where the warm winds were coming from—not northwest anymore, but more west, west: not knowing an ocean was in-between, but nonetheless, he pointed. And the following morning that is where the Assemblage headed. Pekingg-girl was now with child, but she continued to do as she always did, her clean up jobs, bar Big-chest lightened the load of wood on her back to about half its size. He remembered back while living in the trees how life was, how many of the females lost their children by over working, and feared if she lost this one, they would not be able to carry on a group—plus he for once, wanted to leave something behind of him; oh he had had many children before, but he was feeling different now, this new feeling was different: one might say, Godly different. And all needed one another, more than ever, and especially her, being the only female.
On the tenth day of the tenth month of their departure from the Valley of the Caves, Pekingg-girl had a baby while in one of the igloos they constructed, she called it—: ‘End of winter,’ I think she was unconsciously praying it would end. She was a lovely little child, a female, with big eyes, and little ears, and a mouth that seemed to want to suck and eat all at once. Again, Big-chest seemed to be proud.


Chapter Five


Quest for the West

Circulation Map
[Areas darkened in did not exist during Big-chest’s lifetime]


(The warm air circulating was the result of, or because of, the circulation between the two oceans not cut off by land masses during Big-chest’s day: of the North Atlantic; that would consist of, as we know it today to be: Greenland, Iceland, and Scandinavia. Thus again, allowing the warm air to circulate and lower the temperatures of the northern world. In times before, the sea bottom had risen ((Hypothesis)); in consequence, there were no dividers to block the warm air currents.)


As the group started their long voyage toward the west, still finding themselves on a long bed of ice as they woke up one morning, having been together now some eighteen-months: not knowing if they were on a gigantic ice-berg or not; a floating glacier if you will, or whatever one wanted to call a two-hundred and fifty feet thick piece of ice leading out into the Atlantic, -- as they looked about they discovered they had broken off from the main land, that they were on a large portion of the ice-sheet broke off—one square mile to be exact, and as a result they were drifting slowly akin to a boat out into the Atlantic. Yet not knowing under them some three-hundred feet underneath them was the land masses called: Greenland and Iceland. Yet it did not hinder their drifting for the moment.

—While on the drifting ice-sheet, there was another group of pilgrims: several women and two men. When they noticed a fire going they joined Big-chest’s group—apprehensive at first but not willing to change their minds in joining them by the fire: now, with their willingness to participate within the group, and to be as one might call, members, the Assemblage was formed [the alliance, if you will], in place of the Horde and all the other groups they had left behind—the Assemblage was to be the new inhabitants of a changing world. And this is where the group become a new people, small as it was, it was theirs: or at least the starting of a populace, a people to be, once they found their environment to inhabit that is, their promised land: and so they proudly now envisioned themselves to be more than what they were before—and for some odd reason, the notion of ‘belonging to,’ was captured, more in the spirit, than in the everyday routine: that is to say, before this time, they were born into a group, and thus it was theirs by inheritance—if not forced fed into it; now it was theirs by selection, and of course, the need in one another to help each other to survive, and for all the good reasons that might develop.
In all, they now had nine new guests, the original four, and the new child, making it fourteen all together; the Arctic people were a shorter breed of people thought Big-chest, but they seemed to know a lot about the frosty climate, much more than He or they, and hopefully, they could help in the walrus hunting, and the igloo building. And although it was not as chilly as expected, it was, all the same, freezing.

Again, Big-chest hit his chest several times, that was for the very reason he had did it umpteen times before: to insure the new group knew what he meant: and what he meant was he was not to be denied his birthright, and I guess in all languages, this beating of the chest was recognized as a fearful sight, a sign that if you wished, you could challenge and be an opponent to try and take over the leadership, but it seemed they were satisfied, especially after seeing everyone else was at ease with Big-chest being the leader: why shouldn’t they; accordingly, they all joined together with the others harmoniously.
The leader of the Arctic group was originally, Tundra and his brother Toma; the women were between 4’ 5”, and 5’ 2” inches tall, and both men were no taller than 5’6”. Tundra, insisted the men of the group take them wives from his group, and if they wanted to change off, so his Arctic group would not die out, it would be honorable to do so. He implied it was their custom to share their women, and no one was ever angry at another for the sex they had with another’s wife, or the children they’d produce; matter of fact, the woman’s child was always cared for by all group members, the mother, and if there were two or three men she may have slept with, not knowing who the real father was, all two or three accepted fatherhood of the child, as they were accepted when they were children—it was a way of survival, or extinction. And all had seen extinction at first hand now, especially with the Stone-Builders.
And so Stern-toes took Ariel for his wife, and Jaguar-eyes took Fish-girl, because she liked so very much to fish, and he liked to hunt, having something in common for the most part; and the rest of the women, of which were five, one of them belonged to Tundra; Tattoo-woman belonged to no one, but cared for Toma, and Half-turtle belonged to no one, whom was Little Bird-turtle’s sister; Half-turtle, kind of dated or hung around Toma also, although she liked verity in her men. But all the woman except Big-chest’s woman, Pekingg-girl circulated the camp to whomever wanted them—to include Big-chest; nevertheless, Big-chest was not willing to share his woman, and it seemed all for the better, at least for the mean time: yes O yes, they all seemed happy on their big piece of ice sailing across the Atlantic once they got everything sorted out, rules, and leadership and everyone willing to help—.

Little Bird-turtle
[The wise one]


During this long voyage, Little Bird-turtle started to figure out a language, along with the few words they learned from Stern-toes and Jaguar-eyes, such as “Food,” and “Yes,” she wrote down a graph, for posterity, and taught the group them:


New Language/Writings




Her first teachings to the group was based on knowing the leadership structure, whom now was Big-chest of course, calling him: the king, one may say, and the teacher, which was of course her—and so she explained and wrote this out on rocks: “The year of the king, and the wise one, and the great water.” Explaining this was the great body of water she had heard tales about. Therefore, with a few written words, a few spoken words, along with gestures, the group seemed to get along much better as the days passed one might even say, it became cozy, in lack of better phrase.


Chapter Six


The Ice Sheet


Moreover, everyone seemed to have their place: some were designated as hunters, others as fisher-people, and still others, such as the women would clean up the campsites, caves they’d live in and so forth and so on; and there was those who carried wood and looked for wood; and still others who made the fire and of course the protector, Big-chest—who along with being the leader and giving orders did an assortment of things, in reality, a little bit of everything. They even had some sacred signs, a starting of a language and spoken words that they all understood; all signs of a civilization in the makings, a culture if you will in the process: a background for a new nation one might add

—in addition, Big-chest often went against the current of the group, but on the other hand, won their respect. In essence what Big-chest was doing, was new to him—that being, dealing with emotions, and thinking along with being a responsible leader, and not knowing the difference before—in any of these categories, and having just learned it recently: the difference between thinking and feeling, or thinking vs. emotions, he now was squeezing refractory-emotions into what one might call—longer and slightly wider, channels: so you see, he was now feeling them, and slightly reacting to them. And so during his leadership—should we say—the learning process, he was equated to being, or having a double-edge to his personality (which in itself was healthier than being only one edged, and having it be all of terror): but what I was about to say is: being double-edged made him a strict leader, as he was a disciplined survivor and hunter of men, by nature: thus, it served the purpose of the group at this vital time. Had he been the way he was in the Valley of the Caves, no one would have survived; in a like manner, had he turned out to be, too soft for this journey, no one would have survived either. And so it was, in all respects, and I repeat myself: his temperament was rooted in the right soil at the right time, for the right people, on such a long, very long journey.

[Eskimos] Little Bird-turtle was 4’11,” with dark black hair and dark brown eye, similar to her sister, who was also a bit taller and prettier; and the men were of a short size also, as I previously mentioned; all officially part of the Eskimo group. It also should be noted: it was not uncommon to have most of the tribe’s children being: half-brothers and half-sisters—and if a women chose not to be bear children, she was either cursed, or begged to bear them, or considered as Little-bird was: of a sacred mission.


As they drifted slowly across the Atlantic, every so often one could hear the tail, the underwater tail of the ice-sheet rubbing against other objects; the ice-sheet was hitting land—scratching and scraping it sounded like: horrible, frightening, akin to twisting the ice-sheet about at times; where it was thicker it made more noise as if pieces of the extending ice under the water was being broken off—and the ice-sheet was getting thinner. (It would seem the closer they got to the west, to the pole in the Hudson Bay, the warmer it got.) Soon the square mile of the ice-sheet, was half its size, and the seals and walrus’s that migrated onto the ice-sheet as it drifted, had now gone, for they could be seen with the blink of an eye—and evidently that was too hazardous for them, especially with Toma and Tundra around with their harpoon like spears. And if they did come upon the ice [the walrus’ that is] it was for only a moment and then dived back into the cool waters—escaping the deadly arms of the Eskimos. And so during this time, hunting for food got slim at best.

One of the things during this time was Toma’s wildness in the catching of turtles; he must have captured a dozen in a week, and brought them to the three igloos and shared them with all on the floating ice-sheet. This substituted for some of the loss of protean and nourishment they were receiving from previous hunting activities.

Toma cutting up a Turtle


Big-chest and the White Polar Bear


It was going on their 24th month since they left the Valley of the Caves, and now Big-chest’s little girl was running around [End of winter], and one could see land way off in the distance; possibly this was the land that kept hitting the ice sheet (a gradation to its surface), so thought many in the Assemblage [now the group being called the Assemblage, a name of their own, one all could pronounce], but whatever it was: for the most part, it seemed to be somewhat of a land bridge to the north of this huge iceberg they were on, and a great white bear found himself on it also. As Single-tooth squeaked his danger sounds, all were alerted, especially, Big-chest.
The group stood by the igloos, the king, King Big-chest stood in front of them, and the bear crawled closer and closer to the igloos.
Said, Tundra:
“No, you can’t fight him; I will kill him with my spear…” But Big-chest couldn’t, or didn’t want to understand the full of it, and even though he looked at Tundra’s long and piercing spear, he shook his head, not believing it would do the trick. The bear was too big for him, Tundra thought. When the bear got within a few feet of Big-chest, he stood up, and he must had been all of thirteen-feet high, Bigger than Big-chest, whom was over eight feet, possibly eight and a half, but far from thirteen-feet: and in his old age, he had lost at least a foot off his back arch.
Big-chest started beating his chest, and the bear started growling, both now walking in a circle, as Tundra and Jaguar-eyes both got their weapons ready; Jaguar-eyes had a flanked-stone long knife, Toma a bow and arrow, Tundra a spear, long with a Clovis fluted point; Stern-toes a club, and the women had long tusks from the walrus. Then Tundra told the group to circle the bear, as no one could tell Big-chest what to do, he figured it better he take command on the perimeter, while Big-chest does what he wants to do in the inner circle. Next the bear took a sweep with his hand, his giant paw: at Big-chest—and Big-chest stopped it. All were surprised, even the bear, as the bear stopped a moment to refigure out his plan; thus, he tired it again, but Big-chest again stopped his paw from slapping him yet he got scratched from his long claws: which were in, in itself painful. The bear threw out his paw again, and with Big-chest’s large mouth, he bit the bear’s paw, it was similar to a knife cutting through ice, you could hear the bones crack—Big-chest’s jaws were akin to a bulldogs. After that, the bear became frustrated, stood up to show his height, and fell right on top of Big-chest, but as he was falling Big-chest grabbed him by the sides of his belly, holding him up and off a tinge, and threw him to the side, but the bear was too powerful, he just got back up—a little shaken, but not hurt, and Big-chest was getting tired, he was not the unbeatable young buck he was decades earlier (as he may have thought he was).
Toma shot two arrows into the bear, but it didn’t stop him, and Tundra took the spear and shoved it into his spine, and Stern-toes clubbed him over the head several times, then Big-chest beat his chest for everyone to stop, and he jumped on the bear beating him and beating him with his powerful hands: all could hear the ribs of the bear crack, his spine now was disengaged, and his neck broken. Aw yes, likened to a bull, the bear was weakened, and Big-chest did the rest, but it was Big-chest nonetheless who legend would record, stood up single-handedly against the bear.


Tundra the Hunter of the Arctic


As Big-chest got up, he found he had a hard time balancing his body—in addition, he lost all logic of direction for a moment, and even his thoughts were stagnate. He had never been tired like this before and was a bit dizzy, along with being a tinge embarrassed because he needed help. But all in the group jumped up and down with joy, calling him: “Big-chest, the king, and the mighty one,” he of course enjoyed the celebration and adulation, but he knew after this day, he knew he was not as mightily as the skilled hunter, and he needed them, as he hoped they remain needing him.

The Dance

That evening the whole group got together and held hands dancing around one of the igloos. It wasn’t resembling the dance the People of the Fire used to dance, thought Jaguar-eyes, where his father would try to excite everyone in the tribe, get their blood hot, and then kill a few boys or women for a sacrifice, eat them, and then dance all night until they got exhausted, as they chewed on local-weed which grew nearby.
This was started by Little Bird-turtle, along with some humming which was added to the dance, and holding of hands, which seemed to calm all down, even old Big-chest; for still he was trembling inside, yes again he knew these were signs of old age, that the new people around him, the young ones, it was their time, and he was on his way out. His eyes slightly down a bit, kind of ashamed he needed help, but it was something he’d now have to get adjusted too, to get used too: it was reality. He was in a different world now, and a new time period for the world at large, an epoch had started, and he was part of making this new and different world-epoch, this era what it would be 10,000-years beyond his life time, and he knew: that is, kind of knew, how his leadership was, it would have to be a sample of how it would be for all after he was gone, and he did for some reason want to leave a legacy, or at best, a new group of people with hope for their future, something taken away from him by the Stone-Builders: for spite if anything, the Stone-People for killing off the whole world that did not see eye-to-eye with them—this new mixed group would be a new breed that someday would have to confront possibly, them again. And he was not king for nothing, he told himself, he was king because it was fate, it was meant to be, and he was the best one for it (he did have a rich ego you know).
Along with watching the stars in the sky, and the beautiful colors of the Northern Lights, they, this group learned now how to hum and dance, and laugh, it was breathtaking when one added this to the beautiful night, as if a ray came right out of heaven with its rainbow of mystic colors to sweep over this one and only drifting ice sheet in the Atlantic—this night was a night to remember, a night of celebration. Pekingg-girl stood silently looking at Big-chest daydreaming as the twilight darkened:


Pekingg-girl Daydreaming

Pekingg-girl in her own way loved Big-chest, for deep in her loin’s stirred desire—her breath stopped the first time they had made love: she felt sensations in her stomach as well, when he touched her. She lay naked—with her youthful wishes; Big-chest saw this and sniffed the air often, gazing at her, drawing close to her, she’d touch his thigh, not knowing how at first, but somehow learning quickly: instinctive if you will. With her touch and kisses were important, she held him captive and he held nothing back.

Now she turned her mind to the present, his body got exhausted quickly, his life force was spent for the most part, his knees trembled at times, and his arms limp, yes old age was his disarmament—and quickly did it come, she thought. And in the process of all, he was becoming fully human it seemed.

As brave as he was, Big-chest was, he told Pekingg-girl in confidence, “Why should we fear, we are mortal now, like the Stone-People by the Valley of the Caves; and our time is like a flicker of light in the bonfire, then we are gone, dead.” Big-chest had now seen a few life times compared to his race—his breed, and many a creature and man died, it was part of the cycle, nothing to fear, only face and go through, and now what he was saying or thinking, was go through and out of perhaps; this never bothered him before, but now it was a reality, not an issue, but a known-observable and thinkable fact (if not most of life being of foolishness and vanity).

















Chapter Seven

Tattoo-woman Spots Land


Tattoo-woman


It was a cool morning and the twenty-eighth month since Big-chest and Stern-toes left the valley area, and the ice-sheet was no bigger than one eighth its previous sizes: if it was to get much smaller, one would have to swim to land thought Stern-toes. Moreover, if you had clear water around this iceberg, you could see its tail. But it was this morning when Tattoo-woman spotted land and came running around the three igloos reminiscent of a crazy women screaming so: although she was, or seemingly was to most of the group anyways a bit touched in the head. (At night she’d sleep with her so-called, unofficial, husband, and then sneak into the beds of other men, and just smile at the man’s woman whom was sleeping there with (by) and made love to him.) Toma liked her, but would not acknowledge her to be his and his only woman; yet, she claimed otherwise; sometimes she turned the man over when the woman was sleeping, and the wives would never know Tattoo-woman was even there: she was like Big-chest used to be, in his younger day. Big-chest didn’t’ need any advances, if he was needy, he’d go look her up and when he found her, he also found a room in another igloo and did his think, and would return back to his wife when all was done.
To carry on, as I was about to say: now land was spotted, and the whole group ran out to see, and it could be seen with the naked eye [Labrador].

—Thought Stern-toes (breathing in the fresh cool air of the Atlantic):
‘It is a good time to be alive,’ and here he had once thought, after his mother and brother had died, thought and knew, the Stone-Builders were taking over the land, and thus, there was nothing to live for anymore, or reason left to live—other than, just sitting on the cliff and passing time away, waiting to die. But he took a risk and followed Big-chest, made a move, a decision, and that made all the difference, and he was now glad he took that chance, and went with his instincts, it made all the dissimilarity in his life worthwhile. It was funny he thought: funny how one moves, one simply moves, and actions happen, yes, indeed, one thing move or decision can lead into so many different experiences down the road of life, a few opportunities—a few opportunities you can’t see just waiting down the road, if indeed you take that road, make that decision, and he did of course, and meeting so many different people, customs, it was all strange for him, so very strange and interesting.
His wife was now due to have another child, for he had lost his children years back. All the women were with child in the group and due any day now.

—The Arctic Ocean and the Atlantic seemed to have a rhythmic way of its own, a circulation current that balanced the world. And now here was this new land, a land so far away from the Valley of the Caves what could they expect: but they knew that the Stone-Builders, they’d never find them—and that was comfort in itself; that is, the Stone-Builders that killed, brought genocide to two groups of people in his land; and surely they figured, had they a desire to go back, they’d never find their way back anyhow. But at this moment, possibly, just maybe, this new and fresh world had a few surprises on its way for them, good ones, thought Stern-toes, as he looked at all the bodies standing on the edge of the ice-sheet, as if to wave to someone over on the other side (the land side), and all that you could see was bits and pieces of land on the other side. Most of the snow was gone, yet beyond you could see some glaciers. That would be where they would be headed most likely, he thought, hoping they’d first have a long and hardy rest.


Chapter Eight

Babies and Babies

As they all disembarked for this new world of sorts, this land of lands, they could see a wooded area, an embankment, and way beyond there were glaciers and mountains. It looked to Big-chest, as if this could be home for a while, but his face showed it was not the permanent home he was looking for, as if he had a vision; or one of those premonitions; that is to say, when it appeared, the perhaps Promised Land, in his mind, he’d know. What Big-chest didn’t know though was that the glaciers led into the Hudson Bay, the North Pole area


(Notes on the Geology of the times): the group had noticed ((once they had entered the Arctic area that is)), noticed as they went onward to the Atlantic, and even across the Atlantic, as did the Eskimos notice, and as time would prove to be even more so in the near future, noticed what was very noticeable, that the earth was changing. A displacement was taking place. Not all at once, for nothing normally happens that way, but it was or had been taking place for over 5,000-years up to this point, and it was possibly on its last decade before it would completely (beyond doubt) involve its simultaneous effects of the displacement. That is, the system of fractures was taking place within the earth. The general process was at its end, let us say, the dragging apart of the lithosphere, thus causing sporadically earthquakes, fracturing with volcanic effects, but there were also interruptions of periods of quite. What was actually taking place, and Big-chest didn’t know, other than things were changing in the world (in essence, the earth was changing and the weather), was that across the equator, the surface was moving towards the pole, compression being the results, --consequently bringing on a displacement, pushing the pole backwards.)


Within a matter of days, the Eskimos [Inuit’s] had their babies as did the Europeans, for the most part, they were no longer of any race, or creed, but rather, the Assemblage, and the mixed blood would create a new-fangled race. Almost immediately, the men started picking up on huge bones, whale bones, as Big-chest found huge monolithic stones, and the women started digging into a few embankments, creating mound like dugouts, and into the center of the four dugouts, they used the huge whale bones for the foundations support—likened to beams, and small bones of animals for the floor. The entrances were that of the gigantic stones, and were cut slim so only the bodies of the fourteen-residents, plus the babies could fit through them, no big beast were allowed, even Big-chest had a hard time entering a few of the new dugout abodes. Hence, within a thirty-day period, there were six-new babies, now totaling twenty-inhabitants, to include Single-tooth.

Dugout in a Mound-type Embankment
[With Whale Bone supports, as beams]


As the shelters were now built, they decided, the group that is, to remain in this campsite [settlement if you will] until the children could walk, all of them that is, in consequence making their stay eighteen-months (which was to be forty-four months away from the old site, meaning, the Valley of the Caves.)
Stern-toes had his memories, and so did Big-chest, but they did not bring them to surface, just at times they seemed to be off in no-where’s land, and therefore, disassociating with all humankind for a few memories of their homeland.
This land was not all that bad thought the Eskimos, as they tried to display to their friends, newly found companions, now lovers and parents: it was much warmer than where they had come from. They also tried to explain that at one time it was much colder here, in their great, great [about twenty-five greats] grandfathers’ day, whereas the lands at that time were considered unlivable, for its cold spells; and of course many died due to this, they implied. In addition, the said: that year after year, it got warmer, and they could tell by reviewing the old trees that had fallen just about when it took place, the icy-freezing-cold spells could be counted within the rings of the trees. So it would seem they were content for the most part.



Birdseye View of the interior of the Dugout
[And a giant whale bone]


Within this thirty-day period the Hamlet, [or kind of settlement they created], was now operating in full motion. Big-chest was the king of the environment, or Hamlet, and watched over his daughter now, whom was running about, similar to a hawk. Life to him, back with the Branch-People was simple: sex, food and a place to sleep. Now it seemed to dawn on him, there was more to it, more to life: family, friends and spirituality crept in.
For the four-dugouts in the settlement he did most of the lifting of the huge stones putting those in place, as the women dug out the interiors of the caves to be, while Toma and Tundra along with Jaguar-eyes did the hunting; and Fish-girl went fishing, bringing back an enormous load of fish each day. It was a hardy time for the Assemblage; and all were getting their strength back from the hardships they left behind.

Wolf dogs of the North

The Three-headed Wolf dogs



No one seen any wolf-dogs about, but Tundra seemed to be quite worried about them, however, after evening dinner by the great fire one evening—a fire Jaguar-eyes made—the women, as usual, cleaned the area, and collected branches for the continuation of the fire, for the morning fire also: at this time, all tired, they—each and every one—went into their hollow-abodes, leaving no one to guard the premises: as did the men, women and children alike, all doing the same thing, all feeling for some odd reason, safety was not an issue It was the third month into their stay at this location, and in the still of the night when as all were asleep: a terror took place.

—In the sleepiest hour of the evening came the wolf-dogs, a three-headed beast, out of his lair and into the campsite: the little hamlet of the Assemblage. Through the mist of the cold frosted air that seemed to travel with the beast, under his under belly, over his grayish eyes, above his dark-pitted gray eye-lids, where the grayish light moon over head resided, he prowled the site. He carried a death-shadow with him. He came to the forefront: the dried out area by the fire: snuffed about, smelled one of the women, then a child’s smell, found an opening in one of the shelters—as everything was unguarded—thus, snarling in hunger and rage and calm, he sat his paw against a stone that lay to the side of the entrance of the shelter: dark was his eyes, and monstrous was his shadow—blackblood filled his muscles, cramped with hunger and daring. His hot breath was seeping over the entrance stones, it seemed for a moment, just a split second, his shadow stood still in the evenings frozen stillness, looking with his deep rooted eyes at the shapes that laid in front of him, two shapes, a mother and her child. His hungry eyes were filled with the hot blood inside of these two beings he was watching. His eyes, eyes read, inflamed with the craving of flesh and blood, read: fill my belly, and the bellies of my family.
Who was the victim to be, there was not time to cry, to alarm the settlement: the three headed wolf-dog looked in all directions, in the cove, back by the fire, at the huger shelter where Big-chest lived, for even the beast didn’t want to alert him. The child laid nearest to the beast’s breath, and now paw: obsessed with the kill, the meat, the warm blood, the beast tore a limb off the child, dragging the child out of the entrance with a jerk, as the child hung from the teeth of one for the three heads of the beast, while the other digested the limb it tore off the child, then the beast ran out of the campsite—quicker than a flicker from the fire.
Big-chest leaped from his resting place in full force, but by the time he stood over Half-bird, the mother, the beast had fled: completely gone, un- seeable in the misty chill of the night.


The Wolfs Cove


The Arctic winds from the Hudson Bay area, the North Pole area that is, continued seeping down into the laps of the hamlet, and into the cave of the wolf-family, whom had four babies—and now nourishment.
The large three-headed male wolf, crept down by its children, still walking about, to see if all was safe, if indeed he (or they) had been tracked back to its shelter; thus, he continued walking about, sniffing, and blowing out of its nostrils, its icy and hungry insides, and subsequently he laid on his belly, low, very low looking sniffing, more: the child was dead, its blood still warm—by the reflection of the moon’s light, a balled head was visible: the child’s head, that is what could be seen, Half-birds child, it was a female the wolves all crept on their stomachs to get a better look at their dinner, they reached their heads over a bit, rolled the child over onto its face, the mother moving her children closer: pushing them closer to the animal protein: after that, quicker than an eye blink, the wolves all grabbed the child—after smelling it—and had their feast.


Half-bird Remembers


(Half-bird standing by the fire in shock ((going over her mind what just happened, what just took place): she recalled: feeling someone, or something jerking, and/or pulling her arm—after a slight hesitation, not at first smelling the scent of the animal, after a moment Half-bird woke up, looked for her child, startled: she started bellowing, then racing outside, found the tracks of the wolf and just went hysterical, she now looked at Big-chest who was but a few feet away.

Tundra and Big-chest came running; Big-chest had fought wolves before, he knew what they wanted, and why: yet it was to his belief, part of the cycle of life. They had to eat, just like him: which was his practical, if not logical way of thinking. And he knew he could go hunt them down, even kill them, but he ordered the mother and Tundra to return to their shelters, to grieve if she needed to, and to leave the animals, the wolves alone: ‘let them do what is natural,’ he mumbled, and he sat all night guarding the hamlet

in the morning the Assemblage had a gathering, and decided to have one person each night feed the fire, and stay up with a long spear in hand, and should an enemy, or any sort of danger come near, then he or she was to wake the whole group up, and to come armed to kill the invading forces. Half-bird was miserable of course, as expected, but nothing could be done about it, death was a natural course, expected, even predicted at times, there was no use in getting revenge: even the wolfs knew their stay on earth was but a moment in the calendar of time. And hunger is hunger, no matter what source of life you are.



[Sub-chapter to eight and nine]


Big-chest

◊
Browbeating


Most of the females, not all, like Little Bird-turtle, had physical masculinity features—in that they seemed straight, firm and confident for the most part; some with narrow hips even, some with straight shoulders; a similarity to mannishness one might conclude—; yet they were not what one might call upside-down humans, where they felt ‘congenial sexual inversion,’ crept into their lives, wanting same-sex partners, to the contrary, it didn’t even occur to them, it was basically the load of life that demanded their bodies to be the way they were.
On another issue, Big-chest loved making love—the high of sex, that is, he had a great sexual need, desire, and lust: he would intentionally force himself, his big body on his lovers, even his wife, pinning them to the ground. There was no sex war between, or within the group, or couples; for the most part, their relationships were fine. Yet as a couple (Big-chest and his wife), it could be sour with his wife’s moods at times, she was unsatisfied with his sexual hunting at night for an empty bed. And possibly—even thought she didn’t come out and murmur it—thought I say thought, or I think she was resentful of his domineering, inconsiderate, selfish and seemingly insensitivity, his behavior, in short towards her: she didn’t like being tucked away into an igloo, or hut, or any kind of abode as he fulfilled other sexual needs. This was getting to her.


Aging &
Sexuality


Nothing came out straightforward within the group or the Assemblage if you will. It was the age of communication, the beginning of it, not the end, it had actually just arrived for Big-chest, and was not all that new for the others—other than the Stone-builders. I suppose you could say, many things were misunderstood, especially between the youthful wife of Big-chest, and himself for often he’d simply end up scratching his head trying to figure out where she was with this and that. I think everyone picked up on that head-scratching body language. But he lived by one philosophy now, promising, it was new for him: to create as good life, as good as possible for one and all in his group. I suppose you could say, he was learning how to accept responsibility with leadership.
Big-chest had been, and still was, as incapable of harnessing his sexual appetite mentally as if he was back in his youthful days; save for the fact, his body did not always soar through the air like his mind wanted it to. He was now [on occasions] finding his body being left behind. This bothered him, yet his youthful wife understood it, and did not make him think he was unsuitable.


To Big-chest his youthful wife was very soft and smooth, and he’d often try not to break her sleep, some kind gesture he picked up somewhere, perhaps the woman in the cave whom he’d visit (off and on), and if she was asleep, he’d just sit and wait until she opened her eyes, and try not to scare her (folks remembered she was the only one he was really kind to); he even put a smile on his face for her. She was always so happy to see him, as his wife was.
Pekingg-girl had long girlish legs he thought, thick calves, and paleness lately in her face; an unobtrusive girl she was. Yet she had what he considered good protective coloring to her person, she might be invisible at times he thought, in the thick of the woods.


[Stern-toes contemplate]:

Possibly Big-chest accumulated guilt from all the harm he did way back when, thus, a reserve inside of him has, changed him, yes, he contemplated, Big-chest had changed; [Stern-toes] he tried to hypnotize himself as he pictured Big-chest in the ‘Valley of the Caves,’ in his younger days, as dusk befell the valley abodes, he’d take at will—wife’s, daughters, whomever he wised, and now he was kind to one and all. What a remarkable change, could it last was his pondering thoughts?



[Pekingg-girl]:

Pekingg-girl at times felt a tinge inferior and inadequate around the group, if not Big-chest. Reflecting on this, and her husband she remembered him also as being heartless in his younger days, even though he got revenge for her mother’s death by the People of the Fire, for shooting an arrow through her heart. But it really was her own fixation, as she’d conclude at the end of the day, for Big-chest in his old age was different.
As she stepped outside the abode watching Big-chest make his rounds to check on his people, as he’d refer to them, she was proud yet, a bit fearful of him yet. The sky was faded, the sea winds felt a little warm, the sun gone, dampness was filling the air, and a sluggish blowing in from the sea said it might be a windy night.




Chapter Nine

The Shaman


Many things during these eighteen months were developing. Yes, I hate to say but I will, all the women accept Little Bird-turtle were with child again—even Half-bird—and Toma, for some odd reason got spiritual. Now with the nineteen-members of the Assemblage he started to preach, to share his insights. And in a short period of time he was, or probably could be considered and was measured for the most part in being the world’s first Shaman; yes, yes indeed, you might say, anyone in the group might say, he was becoming the spiritualist or better yet, a medium, medicine man— in the makings; any of those terms would do, although, Little Bird-turtle, was still considered the resolving personage of issues per se, within the group: Toma, was now the one that helped with physical ailments—save for the fact, most was in their heads anyway, and so he was inadvertently doing more talking, and taking, or seemingly trying to take, the place of Little-bird, when he could.
Yes, yes indeed, it just happened that way, like that—abruptly, suddenly, overnight. He even started dancing to liven up his inner spirits, conjure up his hot blood, so he said, so he could perform his art better, get into the head of the other person—and shoo away the evil spirits, the ill winds, and the evil-eye.
Spawned with the touch of insanity or the healing abilities of God Himself, he walked as if he was now a selected servant of the gods, for poor old mortal men. What god’s he was talking about was not yet discovered, but Stern-toes had heard of the Eve God, as the one God from his brother Short-legs. But he didn’t think he was referring to Him, but maybe referring to Nature as god.

—Big-chest thought it was a bunch of crap, but he didn’t’ care one way or the other how he acted, as long as the work got down, and he didn’t’ hurt anyone, or get into his way—he also had heard about the One God that drove out two people from some invisible garden, and potential He drove in the Stone-people too, but that is as far as he knew, other than a few minor details he felt insignificant. He looked at him sometimes strangely, as if he was a little on the loony, or batty side of life [not in his right mind], with his deep set-in cheeks bones, and teeth missing, he could become quite gruesome and scary, like Jaguar-eye’s father was when he’d dance around the fire, trying to incite his people to do evil. As far as spirituality, or religion went, in attendance, there was none per se, yet, Stern-toes learned about the one God—as I have mentioned, his brother talked about [Short-legs], and so he was a bit confused when Toma started going a bit crazy, almost pretending he had an open door to the Heavenly God, and if he was His representative, then God was crazy, and Short-legs would have relayed that to him, and he didn’t so it was obvious he had the bad-spirit in him, and in a way, Stern-toes started to keep his distance from him. But Big-chest said very little as long as he would not force anyone—especially him—to dwell on his or her likings. If anything the attention Toma got, must have been comforting, and possibly that was what he was really after, episodes of attention, which were liken to: care giving, and helpfulness was what Toma was providing in a nutty way.

The Cosmic Spirit

As I said, many things were taking place during these eighteen-months, if not simply everyone testing the water to see if they had the freedom to do what they wanted to do—and wanting to be part of the big picture and if they were allowed to be; that is, a new and original civilization in a way was developing, or in the makings, and everyone was testing to see what rights they had, and responsibilities, and Big-chest had no trouble with giving them all the rights in the world, as long as they kept with their responsibilities. Not quite democratic, but not a totalitarianism either.
Having said that, Stern-toes, was not above this either, with his quick eyes, as his brother would say: taking pictures of everything around, so he created something within his mind as a new and unique experience, and drew pictures on rocks.
Stern-toes, remembered back when he was younger and he left the Garden of Eve, and he had had of course told his brother Short-legs all about his adventures while in the garden, and in turn, Short-legs told him a story about a great lizard that went into this garden, and when it came out it had no legs.
He also remembered the Stone-builders worshiping it for its wisdom. He never did believe it had wisdom, but it was a good symbol if anything. And some nights he’d look into the night and see strings of stars, they looked similar to those huge worms with no legs, lizards with no legs that is what they were. And so he was putting together in his minds-eye a symbol. Thus, he saw two things in life, and in the serpent: a blessing and a curse. Man was cursed to walked the earth, and dominate it or be dominated by it, and also, he saw that life in itself was a blessing, just to be given a chance to have lived, to have met his brother, his mother, and now these people. So if it was to be a symbol, then let it represent both sides of the egg, or should I say their or his innovative society, settlement, and the dugouts.
So he started carving on a stone, a huge rock a picture of what he called Ronin, his snake image for his people: for the King to have; when he brought it to the bonfire in the evening when all were to sit down and eat, and talk, he showed it to them, and thus, it became their first symbol.
“Awa, si,” he said with grunts and squeaks from his voice, with his hands doing more talking than him: and I shall translate:
“See, see I have created for us art, and possibly symbols for our children to remember us by.”
And each and every member hand Tattoo-woman put a tattoo on their upper part of their legs, to show one another they belonged to the Assemblage. It was of a double serpent, a twin stuck together; and as Stern-toes tried to explain [translated]:
He hummed somewhat: “Hmmm, this is for us.”
Life would continue to be a hardship, and there would be moments of merriment, but for the most part, when in the valley of bliss, it is usually short lived, and so he told himself to grab onto his life, and to share this moment of unity with his people, and they all loved it, even Big-chest. If anything it was a distraction for the group, a testimony they were all still united, all one, and one for all: the journey was taking a long time and where and when they’d stop was up to Big-chest, even though he felt he was not smart enough to lead at times, he was cleaver enough not to let anyone know this, and cleaver enough to take in information from others, and he had senses better than most for survival: and in his mind’s eye, he’d know when it was time to stop.




The Symbol of the Assemblage


Chapter Ten

Building of the Slay
[To Hudson Bay]





The Sleigh
[Rock-art, by Stern-toes]




It was coming to the end of the eighteenth month of their trip, at which time they had decided to stay within this area [forty-four months since they had left the Valley of the Caves]. They started thinking about creating a big sled to carry their things over the glaciers that remained ahead of them. Also Little Bird-turtle kept up the language classes she was teaching, had started to teach that is, and all were communicating quite well now, if not by gestures, by words and sounds, and expressions: for in all, it was quite natural for her to teach: she was cleaver enough to pick up things from Stern-toes and Big-chest, and even the Eskimos, putting them together here and there, and added one language to them (or one language within a lopsided language to start)) creating a language you could say)), with several more symbols so each one could retrieve them out of observation— empirical data you might say.



New Styles of Language


It was during the last few days before they got ready to take their adventure to another level, when Big-chest had a dream-vision, he saw a fortress half built in the middle of a wooded area, a great open area below the glaciers, an area that was somewhat tucked into, or tucked in-between two glaciers. The original inhabitants had moved out of this area except for one white man remaining, an old, very old white man at that, and he was waiting for him—waiting for Big-chest to arrive. He told Toma and Little Bird-turtle about this vision quest, and they marveled at how he was willing to share his information, in such a trusting manner. And both told the rest of the group, and all gave their word they would follow him until he found this particular spot; now they had a destination which enlightened them, and there would be finality to this ongoing migration. Big-chest never knew loyalty, but he felt for once in his life, like a leader, a king, and also obligated to give it to his people in return.

For several months, the group killed wild game to create a huge slay, using much of their skins, such as from the reindeer hunts, Toma and Tundra had. Yes, like brothers they’d chase the relative large game across the tundra, and parts of the glaciers until they crippled the beast, killed it, and then ate it, along with skinning it. But as close as the two brothers were, Tundra knew something was changing, this is, Toma was always feeling the pull of, Toornag (as he called the Evil Spirits) away as he’d kill the animals. He seemed sometimes to be more into their diabolical world more than the reality of the hunt—if anything, in a way he was being looked upon as animal-dumb by the others, and even his brother; Jaguar-eyes was disturbed of this also, for his father was much in the vein of that.
Bear hunting was kept to a minimum during the following weeks and months, but there was the love of bear meat among the Eskimos. Tundra had refined his spear to look more harpoon like now, and it seemed to kill the bears easier, if not quicker, that was with Jaguar-eyes assistance in the knowledge he learned by the Stone-builders of Mesopotamia—thus using knowledge from two minds, a better weapon was produced

◊

Forty-four months
Of Isolation

[Behavior within the group,
And what others thought about others]



1
Jaguar-eyes

Jaguar-eyes like all the rest, was becoming restless within the group; on one hand, liking the security of one place, yet knowing they’d have to leave, and Big-chest made everyone feel safe, so the world outside the group was becoming impossible to conceive to live without, kind of like National Socialism. He often questioned why Big-chest would cheat on his beautiful young wife for a less beautiful woman. Yet he was not taking anyones inventory, he did the same, yet his wife was not necessarily as beautiful as his, or as young.

2
Half-bird

Little Bird-turtle’s sister was Half-bird, at this juncture of the trip she had lost one child, and was now with child again. The routine of life in the camp seemed natural and she tried to make the best of it; she was optimistic for the most part. She was concerned about Toma, as were many others, yet she sensed she’d hurt her sister for they both had a seers quality, and she was his rival. Yet she seemed to have a second insight, feeling or sensing, in the back of Toma’s mind was a cloud of despair. For herself, she had her high points of despair also, over the loss of a child, but it was more sadness and wanting revenge, not a disorder type illness, not like Toma’s. She’d find herself daydreaming often, actually picturing herself in a tree with a big rock waiting for the three-headed beast-dog to come by, and she’d drop it. She never figured how she got that five-ton rock up that tree, but then in dreams you can do most anything.


3
Toma &
Tattoo-Woman


In their limited language, said Tattoo-woman to Toma [Tr. *for translated]:
“You’re very quiet tonight Toma dear,” she was a sexual deviant like Big-chest was, and to a certain degree still is [at this point of the story anyhow], but she was more cunning than he in this area.
“You’re not happy about something?” she questioned.
Said he, as if in a lost tower of reality, who could in a blink of an eye take everyone with him, should he kill himself (for it is clear with some people, as with Toma, you do not know what disaster lies beyond that face):
“Of course not; I say look at these inspirited filled beasts.” Toma dreaded conversations now, unless they were one-sided, his side for the most part, and Tattoo-woman catered to that, even though it was fairly new for her.
Some kind of unholy spiritualism seemed to have had taken over his personality and everyone were lambs to him, thus, just waiting to be saved or slain. He even got to the point he didn’t like anything dead around him very long, like flowers, or even meat. He was eating more greenery now, when possible.


4
Little Bird-turtle


‘Red Roses tell you of Love,’ a song once played in the mist of disaster, and, as if it was the last thirst of life, eerie as it may sound, Little Bird-turtle was happiest of the lot. And each day she’d walk along the cliffs and look for eggs and rush back to the Assemblage and give them to Big-chest, whom would give them to one of the girls for dinner. In-between, she counseled the women, and listened to the couples as they found complaints amongst themselves, she would (unknowingly perhaps) point out their blind spots, things others may see within your behavior, but you don’t. She was for the most part, shielded from the megalomaniac pressures of the world outside the Assemblage; and she had a way with language. She could make out the zigzagging sounds people were trying to make words out of and translated them into a tongue-language, as she called it. She had heard about Big-chest’s wild days, of how human life or any life meant nothing to him, as monomaniac as anyone could be. And here he was, the leader of all: did not life touch him she asked herself. Yet he had the famous gaze, he’d look you right in the eyes; harmless he may be in meeting him, calm and quiet voiced, but thunder and lightening was behind that waxed-masked face of his, so she told herself.

5
Stern-toes

Stern-toes liked the bonfires at night. Warm they were to his body, and soothing. Plus he liked his free time, thinking time away from all, even his wife. He’d lay by the fire, his abode not faraway, watch the flickering of it, the fire flapping and furling about, as the night would go on; as folks approached him, he’d pretend he was half asleep so they’d not bother him and go to the other side of the fire; half curled up like a fetus. In fear of Tattoo-woman sweeping him up in the middle of the night, his wife would wake him, chase him back into their dugout, reluctantly.
His wife saying [Tr.]:
“Yes, Stern-toes, I dare say, I don’t understand you,” then often he’d fall to sleep as he continued on trying to get his attention. Oh, but the whims of the Tattoo-woman was most famous within the Assemblage.


6
Pekingg-girl


Pekingg-girl noticed most couples quarreled, and quarreled in a harsh way they could. She tried to imagine why, for she didn’t. Perhaps she had said to herself: ‘It’s simply too outrageous,’ she had remembered enough of her mother’s wisdom not to get Big-chest mad. He also knew she was in her mid-twenties, middle-life, if not a tinge later for most women of the day.
Pekingg-girl gazed outside her abode, child in hand, gazed at Big-chest a ways away talking to a few of the group members, his ugly face floated before her, his forehead being slopped back and having locking edges to its sides; dark-brown eyebrows, jaw heavy, a slant to it, hands like rocks. And his neck was as round as her waist.
For some reason at times she’d hopelessly cry, possibly to get out the strain of the trip; she would stand if need be, in the rain, she stood still, desolate, ungainly, Big-chest started to notice this in her, and would walk back to her, put his hands on her light shoulders, not too heavily. And he knew at that point, she wanted attention, often to make love, and she like that, but he sometimes was too forceful, and his weight would almost suffocate her, He made love, she told herself, like burning wood, like wood on top of wood burning through her. But it was his way, and she ha taught him some things, as to take it slower, enjoy the gift of sex. Big –chest did not lack the spark, only the harness.


prior to their leaving their previous long staying hamlet by the ocean front, they captured the wolf family (the very one that had killed Half-bird’s child) along with several other wolfs, thereabouts—the very ones that had three heads I must add, but they needed them all to be quite honest about it, all for pulling of the sled; the three-headed beast was the leading dog, for the other dogs; they even devised harnesses for them all, and their family.
The sled was made up of all natural animal items, such as: the skin of the bear and walrus and deer. And the hair of the reindeer used for tying things; nothing was made out of wood (only used for fire), for there were no nails, all fastened together with bones, and ivory, as was the: skis under the sled, that were used to slide across the surface of this Arctic land, slide along the snow and ice much better then walking and carrying their furnishings; and oil from the whale was used to wax it, and all sorts of uses came from the walrus, even his bones were used. Everything was tightly put together, and the wolves were used to pull—as mentioned— across the Arctic onto and into the Pole region, as the rest of the group pushed behind, or walked along side.
When they left their site, it was when the warm winds seemed to break the ice to little square pieces and now Hudson Bay was just ahead of them.




Chapter Eleven

Hudson Bay and the Fire

Big-chest/Hudson Bay area
[79-years old]


The hardy crew, the Assemblage as they are now known was now marching over the glaciers that lead to Hudson Bay, tracking on the smoothest ground they could find. Jaguar-eyes was a little concerned about Toma still, although, he tried not to show it: but memories of his father going crazy with demonic possession, haunted by the bad spirits, the evil ones, seemed strange they would follow him to possess Toma, but they did nonetheless (evidently sidetracking him, perhaps his constitutional makeup was too strong for the creatures); ‘yes,’ he told himself, this same character was infecting Toma that captured his father, that he knew someday he’d have to resist. He told Stern-toes this, and his brother Tundra, but not much could be said on the matter (Tundra already knowing his demise could be nearing, should he not get his mind back together, back in order, to a smooth way of thinking): all the same, he warned them all, all of the Assemblage, that he would most likely take this to a higher level of craziness, or plane—which was progressively happening to Toma anyhow, and that in most cases someone always gets hurt.

Toma’s consort: Tattoo-woman

It was about a month into the latest adventure—after having left the last site of which they stayed at for such a long spell since they left their abode by the banks of the ocean that is, that were camping one evening, when Toma had guard-duty, and was feeding the fire, he woke up his consort, Tattoo-woman and left their child sleeping; she again was with child as were most of the Assemblage women, actually she was showing in the stomach area to the point her back was bent over from the strain of trying to keep it arched, this would be her second child. She was instructed by her mate (Toma) to guard, to let him know if any of the group members got up: thus, to forewarn him, she asked [translated]:
“Why?” she asked, and his reply was:
“Shut up, and do as you are told or else…!”
Well, she did as she was told, and took from her companion the great tooth of the Walrus, and guarded as if she may have to use it, but didn’t quite know why she needed to be armed, since before she was given it, he was armed—‘…was that not good enough,’ she questioned herself [?] but she said nothing to upset him. Then Toma picked up a log from the fire—with no pain from its burning, picked it up with his bare hands—and caused some flickering of the fire, which started flying about as he disturbed the bonfire, he quietly snuck over by Little Bird-turtle where she was asleep—not far from another corner of the fire, as his partner Tattoo—woman watched, she now understood—he was jealous of her, he did not want competition, and she provided too much for him to stomach; people were coming to him for advise, and ailments, and it felt good to be wanted: needed, and he wanted to be of a higher order in the group, and thus he needed to eliminate her—tonight was his night to do so. Yet, it was beyond this, it was almost an obsession, a fixation if you will, it was as if he was plagued, taunted to do something, as if his will was not even his anymore, as if a demonic force had taken over, an alien being was encrypted into his sprit, and had control: but for some odd reason he didn’t take into account a better method, he threw the large rounded branch onto her—the impact not only woke her up, but awoke Big-chest, whom jumped: scooted promptly to the scene: saw Toma overlooking Little Bird-turtle: as her furs that covered her while sleeping: previously covering her that is: were thrown aside, as they burned with the fire ablaze, the fire Toma provide: for she had jumped up, she had only time putting out the fire on her hair, and cloths, and with eyes bigger than a turtle-shell, she screamed at Toma.
“What you do…why, why, why!” She said, while tears ran down her cheeks.
For some odd reason Toma thought he was untouchable, and stood his ground, and thought the others were also going to back him up: thus, Big-chest picked him up with one hand and tossed him several feet into the air. When he landed, he had broken an ankle. She was [that is: Half-bird] not drastically harmed, more alarmed and frightened than anything, as he landed by her whom was standing in dumb-surprise by the fire, looking at all that was going on. At this time Big-chest stood between Tattoo-woman and Toma, both, not saying a word.
Everyone by this time had been awaken, and as they all gathered around Toma and his wife, no explanation was given why he did this, but he did not deny he didn’t do it, how could he, Big-chest had seen the end product of it [said Big-chest in a calm but harsh manner, and again I will translate from his words and gestures]:
“I will either kill you both, or the one who is guilty-less, must kill the one who is guilty-more?”
He knew by the looks of things, Tattoo-woman was more forced into this crime than willingly wanted to be, she was in as much surprise as was Half-bird, yet she was involved nonetheless; furthermore, he knew just going along with it, someone about to take a life of someone who had no chance of fighting back was beyond cruel. Aw, this would be the first tribunal, the first court on North American soil. (History previously unrecorded, but recorded now for posterity.)
Tundra looked at his brother, didn’t’ know what to say, and turned around and hid behind the sleigh, not knowing what was about to take place, nor wanting to I suppose. (I suppose it would be hard for anyone to watch his brother be condemned and condemned righteously)) Plus he knew he could never be trusted again—and the Assemblage was based on trust and needed each body, each person for duties to survive; the other question in their minds might have been, for it would be in mine: who could ever sleep with him around.))
Then Toma said with a devilish laugh: “Go ahead big-fish,” talking to Big-chest, while mocking and making fun of him, “Go right on and kill us both; we both want to die together!”
With an abrupt look at Toma, and Big-chest, Tattoo-woman almost digested her tongue: she looked at him as if he was out of his mind. He started this, and wanted her to die with him—because of his crazy behavior. He had over rated himself with her, she transmitted through her face to whomever was looking at her. Before Big-chest could say anything, she took the six inch tooth, to be used as a knife, and stabbed Toma: next Toma started running, holding his gut—but tripping as his ankle was dragging along, nonetheless, Tattoo-woman chased after him stabbing him in the back until he fell, whereupon, she took one more stab, directly into his heart.
Upon her return, she said [exhausted and the first time in her life with wet cheeks]:
“It is done,” and Big-chest replied, “Yes, now you guard the fire and the camp while we all go to sleep, the dogs are hungry, they have their meal.”
And the dogs tore into him, pulling at every bit of flesh he had, jawing on his bones and in the morning they were strong and unchallenging, for they were not hungry for once, and the cold weather that was creeping in, took a lot of energy out of each and every living thing.



Chapter Twelve



Wall of Ice

Giant Igloo
[North Pole, Hudson Bay Area]


Crushed beneath a wall of ice that came up from the glacier beside the igloo: the igloo collapsed to about three feet of its previous eight-plus feet height to accommodate Big-chest, of which all eighteen-members were sleeping—thus it collapsed on all of them, minus Big-chest who was guarding the campsite; it was minus-39c, with winds of some 50-mph. They were in the middle of Hudson Bay: that is, Hudson Bay was a glacier, a mass of ice over six hundred feet thick. Single-tooth sensed the danger, and put out a squeak, but no one heard it excluding Big-chest, whom was outside, not in the igloo, and the massive stones of ice, ice that was blue as the sky: ice that was as old as time itself, condensed, and heavy—collapsed. The impending danger was not over, it was just beginning.
The blocks of ice-and snow that made for the roofs, buried several of the children underneath it, buried them alive: as Big-chest was digging his way through, from the outside—inward, into the igloo, digging a tunnel type route, for the entrance had also buckled with a monstrous piece of ice that come up from the bellow of the Hudson Bay’s North Pole.
As Big-chest continued to pull and push the snow out of the corners of the bottom snow blocks, he was digging his way into the igloo, and in the process he was getting franticly tired, his age was getting to him, and his stamina was not as it used to be (his mind didn’t recognize his body’s capabilities, they were stretched thin at this point, unknowingly to him). It had been forty-seven months since the beginning of this long journey to find a home; it was all having a toll on him, as it was everyone. Most of the fat and muscle he once had was turning into evaporated energy. He was huffing and puffing after an hour of digging, and pulling out everyone; where at one time this would not had even produced a sweat.
The wolf-dogs were in there also, the igloo; one got suffocated and died, but luckily no one else died, not one child, or adult—just another dog. ‘Thank goodness,’ thought Big-chest.

It was evening when all got rescued, and everyone was sitting warmly around the campfire-as was customary, wondering what their next move would be. But Big-chest feeling they all had enough time to rest anyhow, made it clear, made it obvious, it was time to get going to another destination, so he said, and said it loudly: as he was looking down one hundred feet into a fissure prepared by Mother Nature out of ice, made by the eruption,
Said he, with a fatigued slow voice: “[A roughness to his voice.] Now, now it is time to go…’ and he looked and he looked, it was a mysterious and enduring look down, so deep was the crack it looked like a dark pit, ‘…who could make such a thick deep incision into the solid ice, what mind could create this—?’ he thought as the ice had separated? He had never thought like that before, he just normally would run—escape, not think twice of it. But he stared at the power that could slice ice like ripping a branch off a tree.
The glacier, the igloo, the collapse, the light of the evening, it all made for a long, long day: there was no reason to stay, so they took what belongings they could find: such as, the meat and the wood they had found, and thereupon, headed south on their sled: south to a land called Mystery Hill [New Hampshire].

—As they traveled south, the eruptions seemed to continue, as if the earth were having birth pains likened to a women, not regular, but you could count on them reoccurring, reminiscent of a beating of a drum under ones feet. At times it seemed the earth under their feet was shifting: they’d even lose their balance at times. Things were happening, beginning to happen, taking place—strange geological things, just like back at the Garden thought Stern-toes. Hazy as it was Big-chest knew he had damaged himself out to a thin rope but had to march on, had to go south: he was tired, as were all in the Assemblage, and the visibility was not good, the earth had created its own hazardous dust and snow—blizzard type—from vomiting up its insides.

And south bound they went, and were: Stern-toes still checking out everything, blinking his eyes, taking in pictures as if he was going to display them a thousand years from then. Big-chest’s daughter was now going on four years old: End of winter. He acquired real affection for her, something he never had for another person before. Matter-of-fact, he attained something called regard for all those in his group, possibly a new verb he turned into an adjective, and for the world he was thrown into it was hard for him to produce feelings but so he showed it now, or was trying to.



Chapter Thirteen


Mystery Hill
Design by the Author who drew a likeness of one of the
Rock-art artifacts, at Mystery Hill in New Hampshire


As the group marched on south, the members kept close to one another, it was new territory, and the earth seemed to be erupting, shaking here and there, as if Mother Nature had a stomachache and for this and other reasons, Big-chest always seemed fearless—someone had to be strong; and in the process of the journey, they all became more dependent on him because of his strength, with a positive mind set, it was good though, for all of them, to have left the cozy campsite by the Atlantic, and for those to have left the great cliffs beyond the ocean; they had perhaps stayed too long at the campsite once arriving to land from Europe, everyone was getting on each others nerves, but it was a good rest; all moving closer to Big-chest day by day, and in a like manner, to one another. Even though Big-chest had his fears, it was not his nature to show them, and therefore, he was a valuable asset for and to the group; he kept his doubts, suspicions, and reservations, quiet inside his huge monstrous being, knowing they would serve no purpose.

[The first eruption demolished the igloo, but other ones were happening one after the other. The ice was cracking all about, everywhere. It seemed as if there was a displacement in the earth’s curst: movements that is. As these events, they seemed to be linking to the pull of something in the heavens. It would seem if these eruptions were happening all over the world, consequently, it would in time replace continents, and create new islands; an up-to-the-minute, new environment for whatever species could survive it, or live through it. And so during this time Big-chest and his Assemblage took little rest in heading on south, feeling the farther they go south and the farther they travel inland, the better and the safer they’d be.]

During this period of unrest, and trudging south, Tundra never lost his love for the hunt, especially walrus, but now such a hunt was close to its end, they were too far south, and too far into the interior of the land to find walrus. But like all involved, he knew he had to give up certain things to survive, as did Big-chest, and he mostly reflected on what the original group gave up in searching for a new home—and he’d replace his old hunt with a new one as time would allow.
And as for Little Bird-turtle, she was quiet during most of these days, moreso, after the fire took place you could say (perhaps a little post traumatic stress, fear, phobia type things)—, on the other hand, it was weary and getting to her also, like it was for everyone.
Tattoo-woman, was feeling shame for her dishonoring her name, her family, her group: all forgave her though, but herself.
Stern-toes kept drawing pictures on rocks as they traveled south, pictures he took with his eyes; and Big-chest seemed to befriend him much more than in the beginning of the trip, as did Jaguar-eyes; that is to say, Stern-toes and Jaguar-eyes would stay up often at night looking up towards the stars and just dream a bit: with its gray-light haze: Jaguar-eyes also took a liking for the two older men, Stern-toes and Big-chest, even though he was twenty, or so, more years younger than Stern-toes.
As they headed farther south, the balance of day and night seemed to dominate the scene, in that, it was more balanced now. And better for the groups sleeping. The days were longer, and nights shorter.

As these disruptions kept coming, seeing that the earth was having birth-pains of some kind, or so the group referred to them as: they came on to a land that seemed to be of interest to Big-chest [New Hampshire].

Tundra Walrus Hunting

Here they took an abrupt turn, into a wooded area. The group in a kind of daze from walking for months on end; it had now been sixty-months, a little better than five years since Big-chest walked out of his Branch-type environment across the great body of water. Big-chest was now eighty-years old, he had lived double his life expectancy, or that of a persons (or perhaps more, taking into account, the dangers of his times, perhaps 10-times his life’s anticipation), and Stern-toes was but five years behind him. The group was tired, but no one wanted to defy or even at this point doubt Big-chest, they needed to believe in him (or someone), and did.
Big-chest, He was the ruler, the leader, the king, and they learned to trust him: believe in him—they had hope. Then a strange thing came about as they came into a peculiar area, a dense wooded area with huge stones about: a hill type area; there was an old man sitting down on a rock—just sitting, present, humming away, a lucid smile, old misty eyes, faded old white skin. Behind him was several structures, unfinished, with huge stones that were cut, laying about, several needed to be put in placed it looked, that is, to be lifted and one by one put on top of the other to make shelters: as if a settlement was in the makings (perhaps temples of some sort), but for some reason was abandoned. The stones were a foot thick, and must have weighed from one to fifty tons; some were just simply gigantic. Said Big-chest to the old man:
“My name is Big-chest, I see you in my dream,” the old man knew right away who he was and said politely:
“Yes, I know, come, I have deer meat cooking, and fresh water for you and your group: my name is…” before he could finish it, Big chest said: “Qallunaag.”
“Yes,” the white man replied, “You can call me that if you wish”.
And the group walked up the side of the hill, then as they got closer into the campsite, the settlement area that was left from the people before them, undone hamlet, they all sat down to eat—they all knew instinctively, this was their home to be. Stern-toes noticed there were underground tunnels leading from one dugout hut to another that had stone overheads. And other places: dwellings looked like temples, and an assortment of what a sacred site might look like (in comparative to Stonehenge), a hidden site for the most part, where one might live unknown from others for a thousand years. A simple sanctuary, with just sides and tops of granite stones, nothing like the Stone-builders elaborateness, but these huge placed stones, cut out stones would endure anything—ten-thousand years if need be; yes, he concluded, ‘..They’d still be standing,’ thought Big-chest. This was ideal for the world that seemed to be turning upside down. Even a crust movement would have a hard time displacing these stones.


The Last Member

[It hit each and every member privately.]


There was one more member,
That should have been counted—
But no one knew who it was
(perhaps caught in a dream):
On their long journey into the Arctic
(Where was this unannounced—?
Anonymous figure: member?)
He was never counted by his friends,
—somehow, someway; but lived…

They reached, ‘Mystery Hill,’
A delusion that never faded
(for the King of the Assemblage):
He kept the images in his head,
Almost broken by cold and long journey;
Now, winter’s dawn, almost gone,
Hence: death had no more privileges—




Qallunaag

Said the old man to Big-chest,
“I’ve been waiting for you a very long time, this is your home, I am too old to have gone with my people south, and you are too tired to continue, stay here for a decade—a century, it will be safe, as the earth moves and moans, then have your people go south.” Then the old man got up from his rock and walked into the woods, never to return.
Said Big-chest to his people, “Leave the old man to himself, let him die as he wishes, it is not up to us to tell a man how he should die.”
But Big-chest was amazed at how this old man, who also told him he was 175-years old, could just walk off and die a dignified life as this, this way. Just this one, this simply one gesture the old man did almost traumatized Big-chest—reminiscent of the old lady he once knew who befriended him (back at the cliffs in his younger days), some people have a lasting impact on others, these two people did on him; it broke his soul cracked it open, when no one else could.


Said Stern-toes, he and Big-chest watched the person fade into the woods, never to be seen again: “She was really old looking,” and put a smile on his face as he turned to Big-chest:
“What,” said Big-chest, “He was an old man?”
“No,” said Stern-toes, “it was a woman.”
Big-chest then turned to Jaguar-eyes, who was standing by listening,
“You tell me, man or woman?”
Jaguar-eyes, had learned, he could tell the truth with Big-chest, and survive, and said confidently, “I think it was a woman.” (Hesitantly.)
Here was a person who connected into the same vision with Big-chest, the same dream he had, who had faith in him also—and if it was the old woman from his youth then she had never left him, and who waited for him, while his people went to safety, and himself. The person could have died a week ago, a year ago, but he surely insisted she or he must live until Big-chest arrived, or so Big-chest believed, and so it looked. And maybe the person was a spirit, he had heard of them from the Stone-people.

The stranger was tired, aged, whose body was not functioning well, and death would have been a comfort compared to his living like a wounded deer thought Big-chest, reminiscent of his female friend in the cave so long ago (whom was an estranged mother at best, but with some kind of comforting presence for Big-chest). But no matter whom it was, all sat thankful now that they had found a home: as the cooking meant was distributed: each had their share, along with fresh cool water poured by their women, fresh clear cool water from a nearby stream (little things now were appreciated): it was all worth it, thought Big-chest, the old person’s waiting, and waiting, and hoping Big-chest would follow his destiny, ‘and I did’ he told himself. That was brave he thought: brave what the old white person did—or white woman, whom was so white he looked akin to a ghost compared to Big-chest. This was the way to die, he thought, with others loving you, appreciative of your works. The way he thought before, death was no more than stepping on a worm. It is not fully I suppose, the way he wanted, or wished to die to walk off into a wooded area and never be seen again, but it was a hero’s death nonetheless he confirmed to himself; he would be remembered by his people, and by the Assemblage, as perhaps the Godfather. ‘How many of the Stone-People will be remembered.’ he asked himself, ‘not many,’ and then he answered himself: ‘not any.’ He didn’t need to be remembered for a thousand years, or even a hundred, just a few, that would do he told himself.

Mystery Hill-Big-chest’s Shelter

Epitaph

[The Legend behind: Mystery Hill, New Hampshire]

Big-chest had been dying for a few days, if not weeks now, it was not as he expected, that is, as he expected to have his final days, to die. He would have figured it might have been in a more valorous manner, or perhaps slaughtering a half dozen of the Stone-Builders, but to lay down in a bed, his heart barely pumping was kind of a let down, but he had learned, it was better in a way, he got to say goodbye to all, in a battle you just see the eyes of the other person before he takes flight from this earth—not a whole lot of glory, although one thinks it is prior to it; his heart was squeezing him as if he was nauseated: his stomach, his throat were part of the revolting-squeeze. And here he was in his big stoned fortress he help build. He heard the white person call him: Stone Bull, indicating he was a mighty man—a new man, not old Big-chest anymore, for he was built similar to stone: his muscles were hard as stone at any rate, when he first met his people: even a hero possibly. He done humanity wrong in his day—much wrong, but that was when humanity was not humanity, but a different breed, he didn’t know what breed, but he was different himself: change, things change, people change, just like weather he told himself, change comes in through the back, circles around to the front, and leaps into your lap when you least expect it: but you will find it there. And so he lay dying on his back thinking, just thinking about it all—he liked the term, the words: ‘Stone Bull,’ it was a heroes name he fabricated up, just for him.

Benediction

“Stern-toes,” he whispered, as the whole Hamlet waited outside the solid stonewalls to say goodbye to Big-chest,
“Stern-toes, don’t tell the world I died like this, tell them the Stone-People came after us, I killed one-hundred of them—OK?”
Said Stern-toes with a smile and tears in his eyes, “No, I can’t, one-hundred would be too few but how about two-hundred—: that would be more like you?” At that moment Big-chest passed on with a smile on his face, that was possibly the third or fourth time he had seen him smile, he laid there in peace, or so his whole being indicated.


[The next day] Stern-toes carved out of a large rounded stone, a bull, a bull that seemed to be resting at peace; it somehow seemed to match the curves of the stone naturally: it was placed over his grave, no more was said about it, it had all been said already, all knew who it was. And for future generations, no one could miss these huge big blocks if one was to walk on through this wooded area: how could they overlook such big blocks, some weighing fifty-tons, laid upon one another. And possibly the stone bull would out live their generation, and it all would be a mystery to whom ever found it.


[If one is to go to Mystery Hill today, you will see this stone bull if you look hard enough, it still remains after thousands of years of being there, and carved.]


After Big-chest died, the fortress was strong enough to withstand the upheaval of the current unrest within the crust of the earth, and for the new inhabitants to outwait the regions: renovation, if not new composure to be: for with the earth, man would also be displaced from/by these vital forces and from his normal resources. Some became lower on the evolution line, others higher. The Arctic would soon see a new phenomenon, and the final distinction of the large animals would be gone, oh a few would lie in the deep of the sea, but most would not survive. And that was Big-chest’s [now: Stone Bull’s] legacy.


The End



Visit my web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com/ you can also order the books directly by/on: http://www.amazon.com/ http://www.bn.com/ http://www.scifan.com/ http://www.netstoreusa.com/ along with any of your notable book dealers