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It was a typical spring day like many others in the history of the Moose Tribe, the tribe was doing well and growing. The cold season’s snow had melted, and we no longer needed our heavy fur caps, coats, pants, leggings, and boots.
The river’s water was still too cold to bear for more than a few minutes at a time. The fish were plentiful and the tribe’s fishermen had not lost their skill with their spears. The fishermen would provide plenty of fish to feed their families and the tribe. Even with their fishing leathers covering their legs, the water had to be too cold to withstand for long. Fires were common along the streams.
The hunters were ranging further from their homes in search of game, since they no longer had to struggle through snow, slush, and bitter cold. The women and children were now able to forage for food without the snow covering everything and the ground being frozen solid.
Yes, all was fine with the Moose Tribe, except I had a problem; I actually had several problems. But to a new adult man of the Moose Tribe, who was newly initiated into the tribe’s band of hunters, there was only one problem worthy of consideration. That problem was Teal or to be more specific, my relationship with her.
Teal was young, comely, and the daughter of one of the tribe’s highly respected families. According to rumor, Teal had recently had her first bleeding time, so she was now a young adult woman; or she would be once the Women’s Council met and declared her no longer a girl. Once that declaration was made, she would be able to take a mate. I wanted her as my mate and I knew courtships could be complicated.
I knew I would have competition for her affection, but I was not too concerned. After all, we had grown up together, and as children, I seemed to be her favorite male friend. There was also the fact that of all the young unmated men, it was commonly recognized that I was the best hunter and provider.
My family was about the same as the other families that no longer had an adult male to provide for them. All of the widowed families lived in a large cave, the Widow’s Cave. The mates of the men who had died formed a group that was called the Widow’s Council. We had learned over many generations to work together in the cave, so no one starved or froze during the cold season. The Widow’s Council guided our lives and they made sure we all shared our resources. Since my father’s death during a bison hunt, I had killed enough small game to feed my Mother and two sisters Sind and Tonni, and myself. However, the game I brought home was added to the food everyone received from the tribe’s hunters and fishermen, and what we gathered. Our food was cooked at our communal fire pit and eaten in our personal living areas. The Widow’s Council made sure that we all received an adequate share of the food. During the cold season, adequate did not mean we weren’t still hungry.
Living in the Widow’s Cave was one of my problems for when we moved into the Widow’s Cave, our social status declined. Teal’s family was at one end of the tribe’s social scale and I was at the other end. One of the things that helped me overcome my low social standing was my older sister Sind.
Sind was mated to Kore, but not his first mate, and she would bear him their first child during the next season. Kore is my best friend and our friendship improved my social standing for Kore was a good hunter and provider; he was also one of the hunters that trained new hunters. Kore was three seasons older than me, and he sponsored me when I asked the hunters to consider me as a candidate for becoming a full-fledged adult hunter. News of my possibly becoming an adult hunter had also improved my social standing.
I am still a bit sore from receiving the initiation tattoos that marked me as having been accepted as one of the tribe’s adult hunters. That is the reason I had lookout duty today instead of going hunting this morning with the other hunters. Lookout duty was assigned for three days after receiving your tattoos. That was our tradition for the tattoos needed at least two days to heal and often longer and movement was difficult until they healed. Hunting the larger animals was dangerous enough without having an injured hunter in the group. I would not go out with the other hunters until my tattoos were healed enough for me to not cause a problem for the other hunters.
Lookout duty was simple and boring, but it did give me time to think. I was sitting on the rocky outcrop everyone called Lookout Point. From up here, I was able to see the entire camp in front and below me and the surrounding area out to the mountains on the horizon. The stream that ran along the mountain range’s low foothills passed on the far side of the camp with the camp between the stream and me. The caves the tribe called home were located in the foothills of the mountains that were behind me. Most of the caves were natural formations, but a few of the small caves had been enlarged by members of the tribe.
My eyes constantly scanned everything between the camp and the horizon. If anything moved in that area, I would see it. It was the two areas between the foothills and the stream that were a problem. There were trees and undergrowth in these areas, which were upstream and downstream of the camp. At least the approaches to the camp from those two areas were clear of trees and most of the undergrowth for a distance of almost nine hundred feet. The camp’s need for firewood kept the area clear, and as trees were cut down by the wood gatherers and removed, the cleared distance gradually increased. If we ran out of firewood, the leader of our tribe, Milt, would have us move the camp to a new location. It had been many seasons since the last time the camp was moved.
Most of my attention was focused in those two areas for there would be very little time to warn the tribe about someone approaching. My eyes were constantly scanning from one close-in area, to the area beyond the stream out to the horizon, to the second close-in area; then my eyes tracked back to the first close-in area. I had stood watch on many occasions as a boy, and I no longer had to consciously think about what I was doing. My scanning of the area was automatic, but if I saw any movement in the cleared areas or trees indicating possible danger, I would notice it. If it was not the returning hunters or the women gatherers, I would have enough time to give the alarm and dash down the trail to help defend the camp. If there was movement on the far side of the stream, it would be farther from the camp, so I had even more time to give the alarm.
As I did in the past, when I was still a youth who had not reached adulthood, I sat on Lookout Point and let my thoughts wander. In the past, I daydreamed about when I would be an adult and be allowed to hunt with the other men. However today, my thoughts were on Teal.
I had talked with Tonni, my younger sister, when she brought my mid-day meal and a freshly-filled water skin. She was my primary source of information about Teal and the changes in her status from girl to woman. Tonni favored my mating with Teal, and often told me Teal looked on me with favor. It was also good that her father Dat and her two brothers Fad and Orse considered me to be a suitable mate for Teal. But, they also looked favorably on two of my rivals for Teal’s attention. Tonni told me on more than one occasion that I didn’t need to worry about my rivals. She told me Dat and Orse both liked the other men, but they didn’t consider them as suitable mates for Teal.
I knew Tonni’s opinions were those of a young girl; and after all, what did a young girl know about the affairs of adult men. I said that to her one day two seasons ago during the hot season. She told me it was not the affairs of men that I needed to concern myself with, but those of women. I laughed at my sister’s nativity for it was the men who made the decisions in the camp of the Moose Tribe, not the women. She eventually forgave me.
I now wondered if she might have been right. One or two seasons made a big difference in how one viewed the world around them. During the past two cycles of the seasons, I had observed many instances in which the men of the tribe did what their women wanted them to do.
On one night of this past cold season, the tribe met to make an important decision. I noticed our tribe’s leader Milt, listened to what the men speaking said, but he would occasionally glance toward his mate, Dani. I remembered Tonni’s words at that time and I watched Dani while listening to the men speak. She would listen to what a man said, and when he finished speaking, she would make a face; sometime it was of approval and other times her face reflected her disdain of the speaker’s opinions.
At the end of the meeting, Milt said much had been said. He said this matter was very important to the welfare of the tribe, and he needed time to consider everything the men said and seek guidance from the Spirits. The next morning, he announced his decision and the reasons for it. There were a few hunters who disagreed with the decision, but even they said his reasons for the decision were reasonable. I now wondered how much Dani had to do with Milt’s decision.
During the past two cycles of seasons, I talked with many of the young men about how they would run their future families. Many laughed at the idea of them doing something because their future mate wanted them to do it. After all, they would be adult men and they would do what an adult man was supposed to do. I didn’t say anything, but I did note who they were and privately questioned their future remarks.
I recalled my dreams of the last cool season in which I defied the tribe’s traditions and traditions regarding mating. In the dream, I went to Teal and led her to my cave. She came willingly and the tribe accepted our decision to mate. Even then, I knew the dreams were false and the fantasies of a child. Now I would take the first step in the process that would hopefully lead to Teal becoming my mate.
Milt might look the other way when someone failed to follow one of the minor traditions or traditions. The most he would do is give them a disapproving look that seemed to say, I expected better of you. The mating traditions were not minor. They were vital to the continuation of the tribe, and I knew Milt would not look the other way if I were to violate those traditions. I knew my dream had been just wishful thinking of a child.
In the Moose Tribe, a young man wishing to take a mate would start by approaching his Mother, or if she had died, he would find an older woman who would speak for him. If I failed to follow tradition, a woman may never be willing to accept me as her mate.
It was early in the afternoon, when my eyes roved over the edge of the trees upstream from the camp and locked onto a flicker of movement deep in the trees. Coming to my feet with my spear in my right hand and my war club hanging from a thong around my waist, I focused my attention on that brief movement until I was certain of what I was seeing.
I started striking the drum log used to gain the tribes attention with my war club using the distinctive rhythm meaning Hunters were approaching from upstream. We had three other rhythms meaning danger that identified the area from which the danger approached. As a boy, it had taken me more than a season to learn the four patterns.
I watched as the people in camp headed upstream to help the returning hunters with the game they carried, I sat down and resumed my scanning of the horizon and of the two main danger areas. You never knew when an enemy or large predator might make an appearance. More than once, a predator stalked the returning hunters in the hope of stealing their kill. Most predators knew that challenging humans was a bad thing to do. But hunger drives us all to do things we would otherwise not do, and the game predators hunted was not yet as common in the area as the fish were in the stream.
Looking down, I could see twilight settling on the camp. The top of the sun would be hiding below the far horizon in a shortly, and I could then make my way down the trail to eat my late-day meal. My Mother and sister would be waiting for me for we always tried to eat the last meal of the day together.
I had decided to tell my Mother that I wanted Teal as my mate during our meal, and then I would do what she told me to do. Yes, Tonni was right. Mating decisions were the providence of the tribe’s women and respecting their ways was what would allow me to have Teal as my mate. In this tradition, a man did what his female sponsor decided was the proper thing to do. Maybe Tonni was right about some women controlling many of the decisions of their mates.
The trail down the hillside to the camp was not steep or dangerous, if I was careful; but, it was narrow. I watched where I placed my feet, so a misstep would not cause me to tumble down the hill and possibly injure myself. Last season Tandor, one of the tribe’s older men who performed watch duty, failed to watch where he placed his feet and took a fall. He had broken a leg and it was slow to heal. His limp reminded everyone of the danger inherent in inattention brought on by familiarity.
The hunters had been successful in their hunt. My Mother, sister, and I received a large piece of roast elk and several tubers from the communal kitchen as our late-day meal.
Nadene
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