CIRCLES OF STONE (THE MOTHER PEOPLE SERIES) (11 page)

Terror seized her
heart.  Trembling, she laid the infant on the cool grass and pulled
Screech into her arms.  His body felt stiff against her chest, and the
heat had left it.  There was no warmth in him at all. 

Darkness descended
over Zena, despite the glow of the early morning light.  She did not see
it, did not want to see anything, except Screech's face, eager and warm as it
had been before.  She did not know what death was, or what it meant, but
she knew instinctively that Screech was irretrievably gone.  She would not
have him anymore.  She held him close and howled.

Dak leaped to his
feet as her anguished cries broke the early morning quiet.  The terrible
noise made his scalp prickle, as it had on the night the mountain exploded, and
even in his dreams.  But he dared not approach Zena to comfort her. 
The pose of her body warned him to keep away.  He looked anxiously at
Rune.  She, too, seemed to sense an invisible barrier, for she did not
move toward Zena.  She only shook her head wearily as she returned his
gaze.  Her eyes were mournful.  She was an old female, and had seen
sickness and injuries kill many in her troop.  She remembered the
shivering and delirium, the final stillness that followed. 

After he and the
others had fed, Dak tried to take Screech from Zena, so they could head toward
the plateau.  Rune wanted to go on, for the crocodiles were a constant
threat to the young ones, but Zena refused to relinquish Screech.  She
snapped at Dak, and would not let him close to the infant either.  The
tiny girl was still lying in the damp grass beside her, whimpering.

Rune gestured to
Dak to go with the others.  She was not surprised at Zena's behavior, for
she knew the death of a young one was hard to accept.  Slowly, she advanced
toward Zena, holding out her hand.  When Zena did not move, she picked up
the infant. Then she touched Zena lightly on the shoulder and walked
away.  Zena rose automatically and followed, holding Screech carefully in
her arms.

All that day, she
carried Screech with her.  He was heavy and stiff, and she stumbled often,
but she did not seem to notice.  Her howling had stopped, and no tears
came from her eyes.  She moved as if much of the life had left her when
Screech had gone.  One foot followed another, and she seldom looked
up.  Once, Dak tried to take Screech from her, so she could rest. 
She lurched away from him and lumbered on.

By the middle of
the morning, the infant was screaming with hunger. Zena seemed not to hear.
Finally, Rune pressed the baby against her and forced her to let the little
female suckle for a few moments while the others rested. Zena looked at the
tiny girl then, and laid Screech on the ground so she could feed her.  But
when they resumed their journey, she handed the infant to Rune and picked
Screech up again.

They were high
now, near the top of the plateau.  Grasses waved around them, and animals
of many kinds grazed peacefully in the distance.  Leafy trees decorated
the meadows, and a huge lake sparkled in the sunlight.  The scene was
beautiful, had Zena been aware of it.  But she could not see, not
yet.  All her attention went inward, toward the emptiness of her
loss.  Because there had been no others, the bond between herself and
Screech had been stronger even than the one between mothers and young they had
borne themselves.  They had loved each other deeply, and Zena was
desolate.

Rune led them
towards the lake.  On its eastern side were tumbled rocks and boulders
where they could shelter.  Long ago, she had lived here, and although her
memory was dim, her feet led them unerringly in the right direction.  Zena
followed without protest, and when the group settled for the night among the
boulders, she laid Screech gently beside her and slept with one arm stretched
protectively across his still form.

She woke in the
dawn, before any of the others had stirred.  She looked down at Screech,
and an expression of infinite sadness came into her eyes. Quietly, she picked
him up and slipped away. She wandered with him all around the rocky area beyond
the lake.  She was looking for something, though she did not know what it
was.  But when she saw a tiny pond shining in the distance, Zena went to
it unhesitatingly.  She sat beside it for a long time with Screech in her arms. 
Finally, she rose and placed him in a little crevice between two boulders
overlooking the water.  Then she turned and went without him to join the
others.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Zena sat by the
lake, watching intently as the weaverbirds constructed their intricate
nests.  She used an old nest she had found to hold berries and nuts, but
now it was full of holes and she wanted to make a new one.  Plucking a few
reeds from the edge of the lake, she tried to put them together as the
weaverbirds did.  The strands fell apart.  She tried again. 
This time the pieces stayed in place, but Tipp grabbed the material and threw
it into the air, squealing in delight.

Zena hugged her,
amused as always by her daughter's lively antics. Tipp was almost as big now as
Screech had been when he had died. Many years had passed since then, but Zena
still thought of him often.  Sadness came with his image, but Tipp could
always chase it away with her irrepressible delight in everything around
her.  She was a curious child, and fearless. Zena had to watch her
carefully.  She loved to run, and she chased the twins everywhere. 
Even when she could barely toddle, she had followed them on small, unsteady
legs, falling constantly in her eagerness to join.  She had tipped over so
often that Zena had come to think of her as Tipp.

Tipp screamed
suddenly and Zena leaped to her feet.  The child had climbed on top of a
pile of sand.  Always curious, she had dug into it with her small fingers,
unaware that it contained a nest of biting ants.  They swarmed over her
hands and streamed up her legs.  She jumped up and down, slapping
frantically at the ants.  Zena grabbed her and dunked her in the
lake.  Tipp's eyes opened wide at this unexpected action, and her screams
stopped abruptly.  The bites forgotten, she chortled with glee as her
still-slapping hands made loud splashing noises against the water.

Dak appeared
behind Zena, looking worried.  Zena made the sound for "stinging
ants" and pointed to Tipp.  He shrugged, and moved away.  Like
all of them, he had become accustomed to her escapades. 

The twins appeared
on the shore, and Tipp called to them to join the game.  Shouting eagerly,
they charged into the shallows.  The noisy play of three young ones was
too much for a group of flamingos fishing nearby.  They rose into the air
and flapped heavily away, their long legs dangling.  Zena watched as they
settled further down the shore in a rosy cloud.  Behind them, the water
heaved and surged as a hippopotamus emerged.  It opened its mouth wide,
revealing blunt yellow teeth.  Another one thrust its head up, then
another.  Squawking their displeasure at still another disturbance, the
flamingos took flight again.

Zena stood quickly
and called out the sound for "danger".  The hippos were not
close but they still made her nervous.  Their massive bodies could move
with alarming speed, and they often charged at anything that annoyed
them. 

Tipp and the twins
scrambled quickly to the shore at her signal.  Everyone in the group now
understood the sound-words she and Screech had developed.  The children
especially delighted in learning them, and they made up new ones for every
object and situation they encountered.

Tipp yelled a
sound she had created for
run,
and began to leap through the tall
grasses.  The twins scampered after her, calling the word back and
forth.  Tipp stopped suddenly, and they piled into her, almost knocking
her over.  Zena started toward them, alarmed.  Tipp was staring
intently at a small creature that had emerged from a pile of brush.  It
was about her size, and it had thick fur and a long muzzle.  A larger
animal appeared behind it. 

Tipp held out her
hand, and the little creature sniffed it.  The bigger animal turned back
to the brush pile and resumed its search for insects.  Zena relaxed. 
She had seen baboons before, but they did not often come so close.  Still,
they presented no danger unless they felt threatened.  She made a detour
around the brush pile as she headed toward the resting place above, calling to
the young ones. 

The children ran
after her, a little frightened by the sudden encounter.  The young baboon
tagged behind them, but turned quickly when its mother uttered a sharp
call.  Tipp stared after it, disappointed, and then scampered away to join
the others.

They had gathered
at the resting place, an open space just below the boulders where they
sheltered during the night.  Rune and Dak and Klep were there, and Myta,
with her newborn infant.  There was a new male, too.  Lop had
appeared at the lake almost a year ago.  As Myta had once done, he had
stayed near the edges of the group for many weeks.  He was a shy male who
made no attempt to challenge any of them, and after a while they had become
accustomed to his presence.  When Myta had entered her receptive period,
she had mated with him as well as with Dak, and after that he had dared to join
them in the clearing.  Klep had also tried to mate with Myta, but she had
pushed him away.  He had not been quite old enough then.

Myta was nursing
the infant.  The little female had been born only the night before. 
Tipp and the twins stared at it curiously.  It bleated at them, and they
jumped back in alarm.  The others crowded around Myta, wanting to touch
the newborn.  She held it out for their inspection, but only Rune was allowed
to hold it and lick its small body.  She let Zena stroke its face and
wriggle its tiny fingers, but Dak and Klep had to be content with tickling its
curled toes.  Lop did not even try to come close.  He sat quietly at
the edge of the group, as if still unsure of his welcome.

Zena climbed onto
one of the big boulders above the resting place.  This was her favorite
perch.  From here, she could see out over the lake, and all around the
surrounding countryside.  Everywhere, life abounded.  The plateau she
had finally come to was as fertile as the pond she had left.  There was
food for all of them in the valleys and meadows around the lake except during
the worst of the dry season.  Then Rune led them to places she remembered
- first to the marsh, where food was always available, then to a river valley
far to the west.  Huge trees that fruited late in the season grew there,
and the river kept enough water so that tubers near its banks stayed moist, and
berries and melons continued to grow.  Always, though, the group came back
to their place at the lake as soon as the sky began to darken with clouds,
signaling the return of the rains. 

Dak came to sit
beside Zena.  He, too, loved to look over the lake, and to listen to the
cacophony of sounds that sprang from the African savannah during times of
plenty.  All around them insects chirped and birds called.  A lion's
roar punctuated the softer sounds.  The lions hunted on the far side of
the lake, where many animals grazed.  They were well fed for the moment,
for they had taken a zebra the night before.  The children had found its
carcass.  They had not gone near, though.  They knew that even if the
lions had full bellies, they could be dangerous if anything interfered with
their kill. 

Klep had been more
adventurous.  He had hidden nearby and then run in quickly to snatch at a
bone.  Grinning, he had returned to the resting place, proudly waving his
trophy.  The smaller children had looked at it with awe, but they had not
liked the taste when Klep let them chew for a moment on his prize.

Klep had grown
much bigger in the last months.  He was taller than Dak now, and very
strong, though he was always gentle with the small ones.  Zena looked at
him as he rested in the shadow of a boulder below her, and an almost forgotten
sensation stirred inside her.  She frowned and turned her gaze to
Dak.  The sensation grew stronger, and she moved closer so she could rub
against him.  Intent on watching a long-legged stork stalk fish in the
shallows, Dak ignored her.  Zena stroked his arms and caressed his
face.  His attention wavered, and he looked into her eyes.  She met
his gaze and felt hotness spread between her legs.

Still looking into
her eyes, Dak began to stroke her body gently, then with increasing
fervor.  Zena returned the strokes until the heat inside her was too great
to deny.  She climbed into his lap so he could go inside her.  He
thrust repeatedly, and she moaned with pleasure.  A series of spasms shook
her body; she stiffened, then slumped against Dak.  He, too, shuddered and
then relaxed.  Zena sighed deeply.  Her emptiness was at least partly
assuaged.

Klep had kept his
eyes averted as Zena and Dak mated, but he was still very aware of their
actions.  He waited until they were resting separately before he
approached Zena and began to stroke her.  But she had had enough for the
moment and wandered away.  Soon, though, she called to him to join her in
a clump of grass behind the boulders.  There she mated with him, patient
with his lack of expertise.  It was his first mating, and she had to help
him find the right position.

During the next
few weeks, she mated repeatedly with Dak and Klep, and Lop as well. 
Instinct told her that to mate with all the males in the troop was
crucial.  Then there would be no need for them to fight among themselves
to be the one to mate, and once he had mated with her, each of the males would
help to protect her young one when it was born. 

Eager for her
company, the three males followed her around and plied her with choice tidbits
of food.  Sometimes she presented her rump to them; sometimes she lay on
her back in the soft grasses or held herself in their laps, as she had with
Dak.  Always, the act was deeply satisfying.  Mating made her feel
complete, and it triggered feelings inside her that caused her to moan and cry
out.  Tipp usually came running when she heard the sounds, fearing her
mother was hurt.  But it was pleasure, not pain, that prompted Zena's
cries.