The Blessing Stone (4 page)

Toward midday she climbed a small hillock and, shading her eyes, scanned the lion-yellow savanna. When she immediately started calling and flapping her arms the others knew she had found a clutch of ostrich eggs. The humans approached cautiously, espying the large bird guarding the nest. The black and white feathers told them it was a male, which was unusual, as it was normally the brown females that sat on the nest during the day, while the males sat on it at night. This one looked huge and dangerous. They kept a lookout for the female, who certainly must be nearby and who would be just as lethal defending her nest.

Lion gave a shout and Hungry, Lump, Scorpion, Nostril, and all the other males went running at the ostrich with sticks and clubs, yelling and hooting and making as much noise as possible. The giant bird flew up off the nest with a great flapping of its wings and confronted the intruders, chest feathers standing out, its neck extended forward as it attacked with its beak, kicking with its powerful legs. Then the mate appeared, an enormous brown menace racing across the plain at top speed, her wings outspread, her neck extended forward, her call high and screeching.

While Lion and the males kept the birds engaged, Tall One and the other females gathered as many eggs as they could and sprinted away. Reaching a clump of trees, they immediately began to crack open the enormous eggs and gobble the contents. When Lion and his companions came breathlessly back, having left two distraught ostriches to fret over a destroyed nest, they grabbed their share, hammering at the thick-shelled eggs to make holes, then scooping out yolk and white with their fingers. A few shouted with delight when they found ostrich chicks in their eggs, and popped the wriggling and squirming creatures into their mouths. Tall One took an egg to Old Mother, cracked open the top and placed it in the elder’s hands. When she was certain Old Mother had eaten enough, Tall One finally sat back to eat the last egg she had saved. But no sooner had she cracked it open than Lion loomed over her. He snatched the egg from her and upended it into his mouth, swallowing the enormous yolk in one noisy gulp. Then he tossed the empty eggshell aside and seized her, turned her over onto her knees and holding her wrists with one hand and pressing her neck down with the other, thrust himself inside her while she howled in protest.

When he was done, he shambled off for a nap, looking for the nicest piece of shade. He came to the best spot only to find Scorpion defiantly sitting with his back to the tree. A raised fist and a roar from Lion, a brief clash of wills, and Scorpion sulked resentfully away.

At midday they slept, when the savanna was peaceful. A pride of lions lounged in the sun not far off, but the remains of a kill nearby—which was being finished off by vultures and which the humans had no interest in, themselves being full—told Tall One’s people that the cats had recently fed and therefore posed no threat. While the Family dozed, Tall One rummaged through the shattered eggshells, hoping to find remnants of yolk and white. But worse than her hunger was her thirst. Once again she observed the smoke clouds in the sky and sensed that the farther they went in that direction, the worse the water was going to be.

The smoking mountain had gone to sleep, its plume of cinder and ash dwindling so that the air had cleared a little. After days of subsisting on roots and wild onions and the rare nest of eggs, the humans were now craving meat. They followed a mixed herd of antelope and zebra, knowing that the big cats would be doing the same. When the herd paused to graze, Nostril climbed a grassy hillock to stand lookout while the others crouched hidden in the grass.

Through the stillness of the morning, as the day warmed and the earth began to bake, the humans watched and waited. Finally, patience was rewarded. They saw a lioness moving stealthily through the grass. The humans knew how she would hunt: since most animals could run faster than a lion she would stay upwind, undetected, and creep closer to the grazing beasts until she was in range to outrun her prey.

Tall One, Old Mother, Baby, Hungry, and the rest crouched motionless, their eyes on Nostril as he marked the progress of the cat. Suddenly she shot forward, sending startled birds to flight. The herd bolted. But the lioness was swift, running only a short course before catching up with a lame zebra. She flew into the air and sliced a massive paw across its flank, sending the animal onto its side. As the zebra struggled to get up, the lioness was upon it, clamping her jaws over its muzzle and holding it there until, gradually, the beast suffocated to death. As the lioness dragged her kill toward the shade of a baobab tree, the humans followed—upwind and silently. They squatted down again when they saw the pride of males and cubs rush forward for the feast. The air was filled briefly with savage growls and hisses as the lions fought each other before settling down to devour the carcass. Overhead, the vultures were already circling.

With stomachs growling and mouths salivating with anticipation of meat, Tall One’s family waited patiently, hidden, watching. Even the children knew that silence was crucial, that it meant the difference between eating and being eaten. The afternoon grew long, shadows lengthened, the only sounds on the breeze the greedy feeding of the big cats. Nostril’s back and legs ached. Hungry desperately wanted to scratch his armpits. Flies settled on bare skin and bit ferociously. But the humans didn’t move. They knew that their opportunity would come.

The sun dipped to the horizon. Several children started to fret and cry, but by now the cats were too full to care as they shambled away from the shredded carcass for a long nap. The humans watched as the black-maned males loped away, yawning, following by fat little cubs with bloodied muzzles. Once the lions had thrown themselves beneath the baobab tree, the vultures moved in. Nostril and Hungry looked to Lion for the signal, and when he gave it, they all rushed forward, screaming and throwing stones at the vultures. But the giant birds, driven by a hunger of their own, would not give up the prize. Spreading their massive wings, they fought beak and talon to protect what was theirs.

The humans were forced to retreat, hungry and tired, a few bloodied from the encounter with the vultures.

They squatted again in the grass, this time listening for the hyenas and wild dogs that would inevitably come scavenging. After a brief twilight, night fell and the vultures continued to feast. Tall One ran a hand over her parched lips. Her stomach cramped with hunger pangs. Honey-Finder’s babies wailed in protest. And still the humans waited.

Finally, as an effulgent moon lifted above the horizon, casting the landscape in a milky glow, the vultures flew off, gorged from their meal. Brandishing spears and howling at the tops of their lungs, the humans managed to keep the hyenas away from what was left of the zebra—little more than hide and bone. They worked swiftly, using sharp hand axes to hack the zebra’s legs from its body. With their trophies over their heads, the humans ran off, allowing the hyenas to rush in to finish off tendon, ligament, and hair.

Within a protective stand of trees, Fire-Maker began at once creating fires to keep predators away. Lion and other strong men got to work stripping the skin from the zebra legs, and when they were clean, cracked the bones open swiftly and expertly to expose the precious creamy pink marrow within. Their mouths watering, the humans moaned and sighed at such a sight, and instantly their long hours of vigil in the grass, their painful joints and aching limbs, were forgotten. There was no feeding frenzy of the marrow. Lion apportioned the fatty delicacy out, and this time everyone received a share, even Old Mother.

Tall One tried again to protest the direction they were taking and this time Lion gave her the back of his hand, sending her rolling over the ground. Gathering up the children and babies and their few possessions, the Family started again to move westward. Old Mother came to Tall One’s aid, making soothing sounds as she patted her granddaughter’s angry cheek.

As they started to trek, breathing in the smoky volcanic air, Old Mother suddenly moaned and clutched her chest. Her steps faltered as she fought for breath. Tall One had her by the arm, holding her up. They went a few more steps when Old Mother finally let out a cry and collapsed. The others glanced at her but kept walking, their concern only for food. They watched for termite hills and berry patches, for nut-bearing trees and that rarest of all treats, a beehive. But they gave no thought to Old Mother who had given birth to half their mothers. Only Tall One cared as she tried to help the elder to walk, ultimately hoisting Old Mother onto her shoulders and carrying her. As the equatorial sun rose, the burden grew. Finally, after a strenuous trek Tall One, for all her stature and strength, could no longer carry Old Mother.

They slumped to the ground and the Family, forced to stop, milled around in indecision. Lion knelt over the unconscious female and sniffed her face. He tapped Old Mother’s cheeks and pried open her mouth. Then he saw the closed eyes and blue lips. “Hmp,” he grunted. “Dead,” he pronounced, meaning that she was as good as dead. He stood up. “We go.”

Some of the females started wailing. Others whimpered in fear. Honey-Finder stamped her feet and waved her arms and made mournful sounds. Big Nose gathered his unconscious mother into his arms and wept over her. Lump sat at Old Mother’s side and tugged at her hands. The small children, terrified by the actions of the adults, started to cry. But Lion, taking up his spears and club, turned his back on the group and began to march resolutely westward. One by one they followed until the whole band was gone, the stragglers looking back as Tall One stayed by Old Mother.

Tall One loved Old Mother with a ferocity that she could not define. When her own mother had been left behind because of an injured leg, Tall One had cried for days. It was Old Mother who had taken her into a comforting embrace, and Old Mother who had fed her and slept with her after that.
Mother of my mother,
Tall One thought, vaguely comprehending her special connection to this female in a family that possessed no concept of kinships.

Soon they were alone on the vast savanna, except for vultures circling overhead. Tall One dragged Old Mother to the safety of trees and propped her against a sturdy trunk. Day was dying. Nightfall would bring out the golden-eyed carnivores that would close in on the helpless humans.

Tall One found two stones and, squatting over a pile of dry leaves, began knocking them together. It took endless patience and will, and her back and shoulders began to ache with the effort. But she had seen Fire-Maker do it successfully many times so she knew it could be done. Over and over, while the sky darkened and stars struggled to peep through the volcanic smoke, Tall One knocked the two stones together and was finally rewarded with a small flame. She gently blew it into life, feeding it more dry leaves until it flamed higher. Then she placed rocks around the fire, and twigs on top, and took comfort from the glow against the night.

Old Mother, still unconscious, continued to breathe with difficulty, her eyes closed, his face contorted with pain. Tall One sat next to her and watched. She had seen death before. It came to animals on the savanna. It sometimes came to members of the Family. Their bodies would be left behind and the Family would talk about them for perhaps a season or two before they were forgotten. The fact that she herself might someday die never entered Tall One’s head. The concept of mortality and self-awareness were less a glimmer in her mind than the distant stars.

After a while Tall One realized that Old Mother would need water. When she saw a patch of flowers, almost as tall as herself, with speckled bell-shaped blooms and fuzzy leaves, she reasoned that there must be water nearby. Dropping to her hands and knees, she dug into the soil, hoping to find moisture. She heard a pack of hyenas barking nearby, their bodies making rustling sounds in the bush. The hairs prickled on Tall One’s neck. She had seen hyenas take down a human being, savagely devouring him alive while he screamed. Tall One knew that it was only the fire keeping the beasts at bay and that she must get back to it soon and keep the flames going.

Her digging grew frantic. Surely there must be water nearby to support such large flowers and fleshy stems. She tore her fingers on the hard earth until they bled.

She sat back out of frustration, fatigue creeping through her limbs, and a strong desire to sleep. But she must find water, and she must tend the fire. She must protect Old Mother from the predators lurking in the darkness.

And then she saw it, a flash of reflected moonlight. Water! Clear and blue, pooled at the base of one of the flowers. But when she reached out for it she found that the water was hard and not a small puddle at all. Scooping it up in her hand, she puzzled over the chunk of blue water that was matted with the dried leaves of the foxglove plant. How could water be solid? And yet it had to be water for it was transparent and smooth and looked as if it might at any moment be liquid.

She carried the stone, created three million years earlier out of a meteorite, back to Old Mother and, cradling the elderly female in her arms, gently slipped the smooth stone between her parched lips. Old Mother immediately began to suck, saliva appearing at the corners of her mouth, so Tall One knew that the water had turned to liquid again.

After a moment, however, to her surprise, the crystal slipped out from Old Mother’s lips and when Tall One caught it she saw that the water was still solid. But now she could see it more clearly for the old female’s tongue had cleaned the stone of its vegetative debris.

The crystal fit snugly in Tall One’s palm, the way an egg would lie in a nest, and it was smooth like an egg, but with a watery surface that shot back the moon’s light the way a lake or a stream did. When she turned it over and then held it up between two fingers, she saw deeper blues at its heart, and then deeper still something white and sharp and glinting.

A sigh from Old Mother brought Tall One’s attention back from the crystal. She saw in amazement that Old Mother’s lips had turned from blue to pink and that she was breathing more easily. A moment later Old Mother opened her eyes and she smiled. Then she sat up and touched her withered old breast in wonder. The chest pain was gone.