The Kin (45 page)

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Authors: Peter Dickinson

BOOK: The Kin
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Yes, there. Brief, furtive, a brown flicker between two boulders. Gone.

A fox or jackal? Too big. Not a deer's motion. Anyway, they'd seen no creatures that size in this place. The promontory was too barren for grazing animals, and there wasn't enough prey for the meat eaters.

There again! Though Mana saw it clearly this time she still couldn't tell what it was. A round, black head, a brown back behind it, the movements rapid but awkward …

Only when it had vanished did she realize what she'd seen. The creature slinking up the hillside was human—a woman, Mana thought—one of the marsh people, judging by the colour of her skin. She was moving in that strange way because she was crouching low and at the same time clutching something in both her hands, held close to her chest …

There she was again. But the hands weren't clutching anything. They were holding it cupped between the palms. The woman paused, peering round a boulder, not towards Mana but away from her, north, as though she was hiding from a danger that might be coming from that direction. She scuttled on, still with the same awkward gait as she tried not to spill whatever she was carrying.

It could only be water, Mana decided. Why was a marshwoman carrying water up over the barren rocks? The marshpeople never came out onto the promontory. There was something out here they were desperately afraid of—and certainly the way the woman was behaving showed that she shared that fear. And why was she carrying water in her hands, instead of one of the reed tubes that the marsh people used for that sort of thing?

Curious, Mana picked up her fishing stick, with the fish still impaled on it, and set off across the hillside. She wasn't afraid. The marshwomen were pleasant and easy to deal with, and the men weren't dangerous, for all their proud ways. But since the woman had been moving so warily Mana slipped behind a boulder the moment she reappeared, and waited until she was well down the hillside before moving on.

When she was near the place from which the woman had come she laid her stick down and crawled silently on until she could peep round a rock to see what lay beyond.

She looked down into a small, steep-sided hollow. At the bottom lay a man. His eyes were shut. His face was pulled into tight lines of pain. Blood oozed from a ghastly wound below his left shoulder. His right arm was flung out across the stony ground. A small boy, almost a baby, sat clutching his fingers and staring around with a look of terror, misery and bewilderment.

The man's face wasn't painted with bright colours, as the marshmen's always were. Nor did he wear their kind of braided reed-leaf belt, with wooden tubes dangling from it. These weren't marshpeople after all.

It didn't cross Mana's mind that these people were nothing to do with her, and she needn't try to help them. The look on both their faces told her she must. She glanced down the hill and saw the woman already starting to climb back up with a few more precious mouthfuls of water for the wounded man. Better wait for her.

Mana crept a little way back and hid, but as soon as the woman had vanished into the hollow she eased the fish off her stick and crawled with it to where she could again look down.

The woman was crouched over the man, dribbling water onto his mouth. Half of it splashed aside, but his tongue came out and lapped the rest in. When it was almost gone she held the last palmful in front of the boy and pushed his face down into it so that he could suck it up. Mana waited till she'd finished, then hissed softly.

Instantly the woman spun round, snatching up stones with both hands, and crouched snarling in front of the man.

Mana knelt up with her hand held palm forward in the sign of peace and greeting. The woman stayed where she was, with her teeth bared, snarling like a cornered jackal. Mana held out the fish and made the double hum which people who hadn't got words used to mean
I
give
.

The woman frowned, uncertain, and stopped snarling, but stayed in her fighting crouch with her eyes flickering from side to side. Mana smiled, shrugged, and flipped the fish down into the hollow. It landed at the woman's feet.

The woman hesitated, staring to and fro between Mana and the fish. At length she made up her mind, dropped the stone from her left hand and, without taking her eyes off Mana, groped for the fish. Still in her fighting pose, with the stone in her right hand ready to strike or fling, she bit a mouthful out of the back, chewed it, spat the chewings into her hand and forced them between the man's lips. He munched feebly while she chewed some for the child.

Still with her eyes on Mana she took a mouthful for herself and while she chewed it backed up the further side of the hollow until she could see out over the rim. Here at last she turned and scanned the hillside to the north, but kept glancing back at Mana to make sure she hadn't moved. Then she came back and carried on feeding the three of them.

This would obviously take some time, so Mana emptied the contents of her gourd onto a flat rock and hurried down the hillside, keeping under cover just as she'd seen the woman doing. Judging by the man's wound, they had every reason to be afraid. She filled the gourd at a marsh pool and carried it back up.

This time she picked her way down into the hollow. The woman snarled and made ready to strike, but Mana smiled at her and showed her the gourd, brimming with water. The woman hesitated, so she put the gourd down and climbed back out of the hollow. The woman relaxed a little, picked up the gourd and started to help the man drink from it.

Mana turned and looked south along the shore. Two people had now come out of the reedbed. Even at that distance she recognized the smaller one as Ko. No one else had that special sort of look-at-me way of standing, eager and uncertain at the same time. The other one looked like Moru. Ko was showing her something. He looked proud and happy about it. He must have had luck with his fishing too.

With a pang Mana realized that now she would never show anybody her beautiful first fish. By the time these strangers had finished with it there would be nothing left but the bones. But she'd had to give it to them. There'd been nothing else she could have done. And now she had to go and fetch help for them. That was obvious too.

She called softly down to the woman, pointed, smiled and made the
I go
sound. The woman didn't react. Mana wondered whether she used the same noises as the other wordless people she knew. She had made no sounds at all so far, apart from snarls.

In fact, Mana realized as she hurried across the slope, she didn't know anything about these people at all. If they hadn't been in such desperate trouble when she'd found them, would they have been friends or enemies? She couldn't tell.

All she had known was they were in trouble, and in danger. She could even guess, from the man's wound, what sort of danger that might be. It wasn't the bite or the claw-mark of some big fierce animal. Something hard and sharp had struck the man a savage blow, and driven deep into him. It might have been the horn of an animal, but it looked too wide for any antelope Mana had ever seen. And if it had been something like that, why should the woman be so deadly afraid, so instantly ready to fight? Antelope didn't chase down the hunter they'd wounded.

No, Mana thought. People made that wound. She had never seen a wound from the thrust of a digging stick, but that was what it would have been like.

This was bad, she thought, bad. Now perhaps she and all her friends were in the same danger as the three she had left in the hollow. But she still felt she couldn't have done anything else.

Oldtale

THE DILLI HUNT

Black Antelope slept. His sleep was long, long
.

Fat Pig and Snake drank stoneweed. They were happy
.

Snake boasted. He said, “See my man, Gul. No hunter is swifter. No hunter has keener eyes. He throws a stone. No hunter has truer aim.”

Fat Pig said, “Snake, you lie. My man Dop is better. He strikes a rock with his digging stick. It shatters apart. He follows the track of the dilli buck. He does not lose it. In the dark night he smells it.”

Snake said, “Fat Pig, you lie. Gul is better.”

They quarrelled. Their voices were loud
.

Weaver said, “You two, stop your shouting. My wives cannot hear my orders.”

Fat Pig and Snake said, “Judge between us, Weaver. See our men, Gul and Dop. Which is the better hunter?”

Weaver looked from the top of the Mountain, the Mountain above Odutu
.

He said, “See that fine dilli buck. He has a black patch on his rump. Go now. Make him two. Now you have two dilli bucks. Set one before Dop. Set one before Gul. Make each dilli buck run to Yellowspring. One man comes there first. He kills his buck. That man is the better hunter.”

Fat Pig and Snake said, “Weaver, this is good. We do it.”

But Weaver said in his heart, This is nothing to me, which hunter is better. Yellowspring is far and far. Now we have quiet here
.

Gul hunted. Dop hunted. Each saw a fine dilli buck. It had a black patch on its rump. It ran before them. It was clever. It turned aside, it ran on rock, it hid in thick bushes. The hunters did not lose the tracks. The bucks came near Yellowspring. Both came there together, but Dop followed closer
.

Snake saw this. He was not happy. He said in his heart, My man loses the contest. We made two bucks from one. Now I make one from two
.

He put a stoneweed in Fat Pig's path. Fat Pig found it. He drank. He did not watch the hunt. Snake caused Dop's buck to run behind a thicket. Then he made two bucks into one. Dop's buck was gone
.

Dop came behind the thicket. His buck was not there. Its tracks ended. He hunted this way and that. He could not find it
.

Gul followed his buck to Yellowspring. There he killed it. He was happy
.

Dop was thirsty. He went to Yellowspring. He saw Gul. He saw the dead buck. It had a black patch on its rump
.

Dop said, “Gul, you killed my buck. All day I hunted it.”

Gul said, “Dop, you lie. The buck is mine. All day I hunted it
.”

Dop took the buck by the hind legs. Gul took the buck by the forelegs. Both pulled. Neither was stronger
.

Gul loosed one hand from the buck. He picked up a stone. He flung it. His aim was good. The stone struck Dop on the side of his jaw. He loosed his hold from the buck
.

It was sudden. Gul was not ready. He went backwards. His foot caught on a grass clump. He fell
.

Dop leapt at Gul. He struck at him with his digging stick, a fierce blow. Gul twisted aside. Dop's digging stick drove into the ground
.

Gul laughed. He said, “Dop, an anteater is swifter, a blind anteater.”

He struck at Dop, a fierce blow. Dop turned it aside. He laughed. He said, “Gul, a nestling is stronger, a featherless nestling.”

Each mocked the other. They were filled with rage, the rage of heroes. They fought
.

Snake and Fat Pig saw this. They said, “This is good. Now we see which is better.”

All day Dop and Gul fought. They gave fierce blows. They threw stones. They struck with their fists. They bit with their mouths. Blood flowed
.

The sun sank low. Gul saw this. He turned away. He ran towards the sun. Dop followed
.

Now Gul turned again. He faced Dop. He struck
him a great blow, the blow of a hero. It was of this sort:

See this tree, this father of trees. No tree is taller, none stronger. Now is the time of rains. See this cloud. It is black, it is slow, it is filled with thunder. It stands over the father of trees. It bursts. Out of it falls the lightning. The sun is not brighter. The lion's roar is not louder. The father of trees is stricken, he falls, he lies on the ground
.

Such was Gul's blow at Dop
.

The sun was in Dop's eyes. He did not see Gul's blow. It struck him on the head, the side of the head, behind the eye. His sight was darkened. His knees were weak. He fell to the ground. He did not move
.

Gul picked up the dilli buck. He carried it away. He was happy
.

CHAPTER TWO

The man couldn't stand, let alone walk, so Suth and Net linked hands to make a seat between them, and with his arms round their shoulders carried him moaning back to the camp. His wound reopened and bled the whole way. The woman seemed to have decided that these strangers were friendly. She walked anxiously beside the man, carrying the child and glancing back over her shoulder every few paces.

They made the man as comfortable as they could on a bed of reedstems, and Mana fetched water for the woman to wash his wound, and then put what was left of her fish on the ashes of the fire to roast for them.

By now it was time for the midday rest, but first Tun sent Ko and Nar to keep a watch to the north, one on either flank of the hill. The rest of them sat in the shade, eating what they had caught or found, and talking in low voices about the strangers. Mana couldn't hear what the men were saying on the far side of the fire, but the women round her all agreed that the man's wound had been made by something like a digging stick, and that the woman was very scared. They guessed it was because she thought that whoever had caused the wound might still be following them.

Nobody said a word of blame to Mana for what she had done. Like her, they all seemed to feel that she'd had no choice.

Before the rest ended Mana went up the hill with Shuja to take over as lookouts. They stayed there most of the afternoon, until Zara came up with Dipu to relieve them. As they were making their way back down the hill Shuja stopped and pointed ahead, towards the tip of the promontory.

“See,” she said. “Var comes. And Net and Yova and Kern. They have salt. This is good.”

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