Chapter 38: Why the Sea is Salty
Durcan had just brought his sister's horses in from the field where they had been grazing. Making sure they were well watered, he herded them into the corral that he, Jonayla and their father had built near the Ninth Cave's summer place at the beginning of the Summer Meeting.
He didn't mind taking care of Jonayla's horses. After all, he planned to build his own herd someday and then she would help him. There were only three yearlings left from Jonayla's original nine plus his own horse Lightning, so it wasn't much of a chore anyway.
Since his mother had received the gift of Sky Wolf from the hands of the Earth Mother Herself, Durcan had become very popular with the other children from every cave. No longer were there taunts about flatheads or about his mother's past. All they wanted was to be close to the Zelandoni with the Sky Wolf. He of course was in the best position to make that possible.
Over the past ten days, many children had come to visit Durcan, even ones he didn't know very well. Of the two siblings from South Face, Artibon and his sister Folrian, only she had stood by him when the other children had teased him, so he felt closer to her than to any of the others. He liked her and liked the feeling of being close to her.
Durcan's thoughts were interrupted by a girl's voice hailing him, "Durc! There you are! We've been looking for you." It was Folrian and her brother. That was interesting, he had just been thinking about them and then suddenly there they were! He smiled and waved as they rode over to the corral and dismounted.
"Are you about done?" Folrian asked. "We're going to the Storyteller's lodge; I heard they were going to tell a story about the people that live by the ocean in the west. Do you want to come? We only have a short time before the storytellers begin."
"Yes! Let's go," Durcan replied enthusiastically. He loved listening to the storytellers, especially Ralev and his troupe. In his opinion they were better than the others and told more exotic tales. Durcan turned toward the trees and whistled, Blackie immediately appeared at the edge of the forest and with a few puppy yaps, bounded excitedly to him. Durcan's young wolf had been rooting around in search of something fun to do. It still amazed Durcan that the pup had accepted him as pack leader so quickly. His mother had told him that it would take a lot of time and effort to train her but she seemed to take to him right away and learned to do what he told her to do after only a couple of lessons on a given task.
Durcan was proud of his wolf pup. She had grown to twice the size she'd been when he'd first found her only a few hands of time before. "Blackie, come!" he called, then turning back to his friends, "Why don't we walk? You can corral your horses here. It's more fun to walk through the Summer Meeting, you see more that way."
Folrian giggled, "You just like the way people stare at you and your wolf when we walk through the camp. It is funny to see grown men and women stop what they're doing to pay attention to us."
"Alright, alright," Artibon said, "let's get moving, they could already be telling the ocean people story."
This would be their last day together since the Twenty-Ninth Caves were striking camp the next day and returning to their homes for the winter. Within the next few days everyone would be leaving the Summer Meeting. This was the time of year when the final hunts and the last of the gathering of the natural abundance of grains and berries, nuts and fodder around the home cave areas would take place. It was a busy time just before becoming inactive as the long cold winter arrived.
As they walked through the main area, all three children enjoyed the reaction they got when Durcan's young female wolf stayed obediently beside him. People were slowly beginning to get used to multiple young wolves in their midst, but with the recent event concerning Sky, most of the Zelandonii now thought that a wolf that answered to a person might be something almost spiritual and more and more people began talking about it.
Durcan heard talk just the day before at the Ninth Cave's main hearth that some of the men might hunt for young wild dogs. They had known what a help Wolf had been to Jondalar and Zelandoni in their hunting and had heard about the stories where the animal had even saved their lives several times during their extensive travels. Dogs were physically smaller than wolves, ate less and would be more easily accepted. They thought it would be safer to trap young dogs rather than wolves and one man even said he thought they might breed them to trade to other hunters.
As the children made their way through the campsites toward the Storyteller's lodge, Folrian took Durcan's arm and hugged it to her as they walked. He was used to her acting possessively toward him and secretly liked the feeling, even though he would never admit it.
"After Ralev tells the Ocean story, let's go visit the traders on the hill and then I want to go swimming," Folrian chattered. "Summer Meeting is almost over and I love to swim in New Lake. You can see so many things down in the water since it is new from the time when the Mother spoke and because the water is so clear."
Artibon just grunted noncommittally, but Durcan replied, "That sounds good to me. I think this may be the last day before all the campsites start to come down. The trial couples should begin to return today and tomorrow and several of the caves that had no one in the last Matrimonial are striking their camps now and will probably begin to leave tomorrow as well, so this will be our last chance."
"I'm going to miss you Durc. We've had fun, haven't we? I just wish we lived at the same cave," Folrian said wistfully, looking up at the boy who was a year older than her.
"Stop mooning over Durc, Folrian. If you want to hear the storytellers then come on, we're here and there's the storyteller," Artibon said, as he ducked under the traditional low entrance to the Storyteller's lodge.
Entering into a Storyteller's lodge was always exciting, at least for young children, although many adults enjoyed the stories too. But the young always got the most out of the experience because it was all new to them and so different from everyday life.
The Storyteller's lodge was different than most of the others at the Summer Meeting. It was really a very large pointed tent, positioned at the back of a large open area surrounded by a log palisade and was where most of the stories were told out in the open. At its base the lodge was a good thirty feet across and had been dug down into the earth about six hands-width, with a ledge all the way around that served as places for people to sit during the day and places for the storytellers to sleep at night.
The floor of the dugout was paved with river stones, thousands of river stones that were several layers deep. This late in the summer they had been trampled down by hundreds of feet into a hard, flat surface.
Eight long thin logs were angled up into a peak and then tied together. The bases of the logs were evenly spaced and anchored into an earth rampart and then the frame was covered with a patchwork of hides forming a huge pointed tent.
Besides the low-cut entrance portal, there were two other portals cut into the back wall between two vertical support logs. But what was most unusual, were the thin colored panels that were placed over these cutouts. Someone had worked the skin of some unidentified animal to the point that it was almost translucent. Then they had colored one a golden hue and the other a reddish hue, making the light that shown through during the day seem otherworldly.
Many times there were flute players and drums and even singers who accompanied stories, or sometimes they just played the instruments and sang. It was a most unusual place and all three children quickly found a place to sit. Durcan held Blackie on his lap and was petting the pup to keep her quiet.
The lodge was full, with more than thirty people gathered around the raised-earth area before the hearth. There were small lamps that burned cleanly, sending a pale filmy smoke toward the smoke hole at the peak of the lodge.
Suddenly red-haired Ralev stood and stepped up onto the storyteller's platform and beckoned a young woman, one of his troupe, to join him. In a loud and commanding voice he said, "Be silent, children of the Earth Mother and I will tell you the story of 'Why the Sea is Salty.'
Ralev seemed to shine a golden-red in the magic light. Durcan was instantly transported to another time and place as the storyteller began his tale.
"Long ago there were people living at the edge of the western sea. They were all fishermen and seldom ventured inland. They didn't live in caves or lodges, but each family had their own grass hut.
"In one of the villages along the edge of the sea there lived two fishermen brothers.
"The older brother was lucky and always brought in enough fish for his family and to trade for things his mate might want. Although the older brother had plenty, he was mean-fisted and arrogant." Ralev made his voice sound arrogant and unpleasing when he spoke of the elder brother.
"The younger brother was kind and generous of spirit, but was unlucky and seldom brought in enough fish to feed his mate and their children, much less trade for things they might wish to have to make their lives easier." Now Ralev's voice was soft and pleasing to hear.
"One day the younger brother and his mate found they didn't have enough food to feed their children. The seas had been too rough to take his boat out because the boat was old and in poor condition. They realized that they had eaten all of the fish that he had caught and had nothing left.
"'What are we going to do? We have no food for the children to eat,' said the younger brother's mate in tears.
"The younger brother did not know what to say.
"'Go to your brother and ask him to help us. Ask him for some food, any food, maybe just enough to make soup with,' suggested the poor man's mate. 'I know that he brought in a large catch yesterday - I saw him unload it while you were down the beach repairing your boat. Surely he will not begrudge us a little fish?'
"The younger brother sighed in resignation. He did not like to ask his brother for help, for he knew how mean-fisted and selfish his brother was. But he really couldn't think of any other way to get something to eat and his children were hungry. So the younger brother put on his ragged wrap and walked to his brother's hut.
"'What do you want?' asked the older brother as soon as he saw his younger brother approach.
"And then the older brother's mate screeched, 'Why do you come here? Tomorrow is a holy day and we are busy preparing the feast. Go away! We have no time for the likes of you!'"
Durcan and his friends were caught up in the fate of these people. Ralev's troupe of story tellers were joining in now to make the story that much more real to the listeners. The woman who stood beside him had taken the parts of both the brother's mates and responded to Ralev's voice as if their conversation were a real one.
Ralev continued, "But the younger brother, knowing that he had little choice, called out to his sibling, 'Brother,' he said, 'we have nothing to eat in our hut and my children go hungry. Lend me a little fish-meat, so my mate and children may also celebrate the holy day.'
"'I knew it!' shrieked the older brother's mate. 'I knew your brother would come begging one day. Throw him out!'" the woman storyteller rounded on Ralev as if she were truly mad at him.
Ralev held his arms out beseechingly to the audience, "The younger brother ignored his brother's rude mate and begged, 'Please, brother, help us in our time of need,' he said, looking at his elder brother.
"'Oh very well,' grumbled his brother. 'Take this and go to Hetata the Wood-Spirit!' He threw a large fish at his younger brother.
"The younger brother thanked him profusely, folding the fish in his hide wrap and began walking home. But as he went he remembered what his brother had said. This fish was not his, but that of the Wood-Spirit.
"Hetata the Wood-Spirit lived deep in the forest and the younger brother had never gone into the forest very far before, only to gather wood, but there were those who did. They were wood-cutters who brought wood to the village to trade for fish and other things.
"The younger brother didn't know where in the forest the Spirit lived, but hoped to run into a wood-cutter who might know.
"Sure enough, the younger brother did run into a lone wood-cutter. He was an old man who had been a wood-cutter for many years and knew the forests better than most.
"The younger brother approached the old man and asked, 'Do you know where Hetata the Wood-Spirit lives? I must find the spirit and give him this fish I hold.'
"The old man squinted his eyes at the young man, not sure what to make of him, but finally said, 'You should walk to the top of that crest,' the old man pointed to raised ground in the distance. 'Where that tall dead tree stands you will find a cave in the hillside. That will be where you will find Hetata.'
"The young brother thanked the old man for his help and began to walk up the hill. The old man called out to stop him and said, 'I like you, so I'll tell you something you should do when you meet the Wood-Spirit. He likes fish very much but because he lives in the forest he seldom gets any. Therefore you can expect to be rewarded for your gift.'
"The younger brother was about to thank the old man for this bit of useful information, but the old man held up his hand to silence him, 'The Spirit will offer you rare hides or excellent hunting weapons as reward, but you should not accept them. Ask instead for his stone bowl with the image of a snake on it. Tell him that you've heard of it and that is what you would like to have. If he refuses and offers something else, don't accept anything but the bowl.'
"The young man thanked the wood-cutter and walked on. Very soon he was at the rise and close to the tall dead tree. Sure enough, there to one side, in the side of the hill was a cave opening, so he went inside and there was Hetata, sitting by a small fire, warming his hands.
"'Why have you come here?' asked Hetata.
"'I have brought you a gift,' said the young man. 'A fish.' And he held out the large fish to Hetata.
"'Fish!' cried Hetata in delight. 'Quick, give it to me! I haven't eaten fish for thirty summers!' Hetata grabbed it and woofed it down, smacking his lips with pleasure.
"After he had eaten the gift, he said, 'Now I shall give you a gift in return. Here, take these Mammoth hides and these hunting implements,' he said, pulling out a huge beautifully cured white Mammoth hide and two Maga Spears of superb quality.
"'No, I don't want those,' said the young man, remembering the old wood cutter's advice.
"'The best flint then, and some fresh baked cakes with mountain pine nuts perhaps?' offered Hetata, pulling out two handfuls of the best looking flint nodules the poor man had ever seen and a basket of fresh cakes.
"'No thank you. I don't want that either,' said the young man.
"'How about these ten precious stones?' asked Hetata. 'These are shiny and very rare. You'll never see their like again and their trade value is ten times the worth of everything I have offered you so far.'
"'No, thank you, I don't want any of those either,' said the young man.
"'Well, what do you want then?' asked Hetata.
"'I want your stone bowl with the snake painted on it,' replied the young man.
"'My snake bowl!' exclaimed Hetata. 'No, you can't have that, but I can give you anything else you like.'
"'That's very kind of you,' said the poor man, 'but I only want the stone bowl with the snake painted on it.'
"Hetata did not know what to do. He had eaten the man's gift and certainly could not give it back, nor could he let him leave without a gift in return.
"'Oh very well,' he said at last. 'I suppose I must let you have my bowl. Take it. But do you know how to use it?'
"'No,' said the poor man. 'Tell me please.'
"'Well,' explained Hetata resignedly, 'this is a magic bowl. It will give you whatever you wish for, just say, 'Snake Bowl, give forth food!' Then when you have enough food and want the bowl to stop, just say, 'Snake Bowl, this is enough. I have had enough, it is done!' Then it will stop. Now go!'
"The younger brother thanked Hetata and wrapped the magic bowl in his tattered carry bag and began walking back to his home at the edge of the western sea.
"He walked and he walked and he walked, and at last reached his home. His mate was weeping, having given him up for dead. 'Where have you been?' she cried. 'It has been days and days since you left us and I thought I'd never see you again!'
"The younger brother told his mate the tale of his adventures. That it had only seemed like an afternoon, not days and days. Then, setting the magic bowl beside the fireplace, he said, 'Snake Bowl, give forth a feast.'
"The Snake Bowl began to spin and suddenly food appeared; the most wonderful dishes of food they had ever seen. The younger brother and his mate and children ate and ate till they could eat no more.
"'Snake Bowl, this is enough. I have had enough, it is done!' commanded the young man, and the Snake Bowl stopped spinning and no more food appeared.
"The next day the younger brother and his mate and children celebrated with another feast and where very happy. Now that there was enough to eat, he asked for new clothing to wear. From the beginning, whenever he asked for something, it appeared and they never lacked for anything. The Snake Bowl gave them a fine new dwelling and enough food to eat and more to trade. Soon they had so much that they did not really need to use the magic bowl any longer.
"The elder brother heard of his brother's change of fortune. 'How could my brother suddenly have become so well provided for?' he wondered. 'I must find out.' So the elder brother went to his brother's hut.
"'How have you become rich in goods so quickly? And a new dwelling too,' he said, looking around at everything in amazement.
"The younger brother told him everything - about his conversation with the wood cutter and how he had given his brother's fish to the Wood-Spirit and received a magic bowl in return.
"'I want that Snake Bowl for myself,' thought the elder brother. 'Show me the bowl,' he demanded.
"The younger brother, wanting to believe that there was goodness in his sibling and knowing that it was his fish that had made all his good fortune possible, did as he was asked. He put the Snake Bowl in his elder brother's hands and said, 'Snake Bowl, give forth a feast.' At once the magic bowl began to spin all by itself and out poured the most delicious looking food.
"The elder brother could not believe his eyes. He ran from dish to dish tasting the food and marveling at the succulent tastes and aromas. Finally the younger brother said quietly, 'Snake Bowl, this is enough. I have had enough, it is done!' The older brother was preoccupied, thinking to himself that he had to have the bowl, that his younger brother didn't deserve such powerful magic.
"'Trade me your bowl!' he begged of the younger brother.
"'No,' said the younger brother. 'The Snake Bowl is not for trade.'
"'Well then, lend it to me for a bit,' said the elder brother. 'After all, it was I who gave you the fish to carry to Hetata!'
"The younger brother knew this was true. What harm could there be in letting his brother have the bowl for a while?
"'Very well brother, you may borrow it for a day,' said the younger brother.
"The elder brother was delighted. He grabbed the Snake Bowl and ran off with it, without having heard how to stop it.
"The Elder brother already had a scheme in mind. He put the bowl into his boat and rowed out to sea with it to where the village fishermen were hauling in their catch of fish.
"'The fishermen must salt the fish if they want to stay out longer to catch more,' he thought. 'They will trade me part of their catch for some fine ready at hand salt.'
"The elder brother was far out to sea by now, far away from any land. There was no one to hear him as he said, 'Snake Bowl, give forth! Give me pure, fine, white salt.'
"The Snake Bowl began to spin on the bottom of his boat and out poured the finest, whitest salt imaginable. Soon the boat was full. The elder brother decided he had enough and commanded the bowl to stop, but when it didn't, he realized that he couldn't remember the phrase his brother had used to stop it.
"Desperately elder brother yelled, 'Stop, Snake Bowl! STOP! Stop now!' he pleaded again and again. 'I don't want any more salt!'
"But the magic bowl did not stop. It continued to produce the finest whitest salt imaginable.
"Soon the elder brother's boat was so full of salt that he was fighting to stay afloat. He began to scoop up the salt and dump it over the side, but the bowl just produced more, faster and faster until... Elder brother cried for help, but there was no one near enough to hear him and he sank into the sea, never to be seen again.
"Even at the bottom of the sea the Snake Bowl kept pouring out the purest, finest, whitest, salt. It is still there to this very day, making more and more salt.
"And that, believe it or not, is why the sea is salty."
As the final words were spoken, the accompanying flute and faint drumming receded and Ralev clasped his hands together and lowered his gaze, indicating the completion of the story. All of the people enthusiastically clapped their hands against their thighs and voiced their approval, asking for more.
Of course Ralev would not accede to the requests for more stories because there were other storytellers awaiting their turn to perform. As the people's acclaim for his story quieted, he stepped down and nodded to the people as he walked over to sit beside Durcan and his friends, waiting to listen to the next storyteller who was preparing to speak.
Ralev leaned close to the boy and whispered, "What did you think about my story Durc?"
"I liked it Ralev. I enjoy well told stories, especially ones I haven't heard before," Durcan replied. "Where did you find that story?"
Ralev leaned toward the boy and winked, "I found it in my imagination." He smiled and Durcan smiled back nodding. Then the next storyteller began to speak and everyone settled down to listen.
-o-
The story telling done for the time being, Artibon and Folrian came out into the afternoon light and headed toward the trader's place. This area was the second most popular place at Summer Meetings, where the men and women displayed their crafts. One of the high points of the Summer Meeting was the exchange of goods and information and of course visiting friends and family they might not have seen since the summer before.
Besides talking to people they only saw during the summer, the trading area had the added attraction of displaying different types of hunting weapons, utensils and jewelry produced by other caves. There was always something new, someone was always coming up with a new idea and improvements on old ones.
Durcan, although he wanted to be a great hunter and horse breeder, appreciated the Knapper's skill, especially because his father was a renowned Knapper. He'd grown up with the craft and was even a fair hand at it himself. So he was always on the lookout for new types of blades and spear points.
The children hurried up the slight slope leading to the edge of the camp where the crafts were laid out on hides or on flat rocks for display. This late in the Summer Meeting there were only a few craftsmen left displaying their items for trade. At the height of the gathering there could be as many people displaying crafts as there were people looking, but today there were less than a dozen traders and the trading area seemed almost deserted to the three children.
The advantage to having so few traders present was that not a lot of people were there and the children could talk to the men and women about their items on display. Normally they knew that children were only looking and if things were busy they wouldn't have time for them, but today the traders were bored with the lack of commerce and were willing to talk about their craft.
Having Blackie with them also made them more interesting than normal and they walked along the row of crafts on display, talking to each adult and letting them pet the young wolf who enjoyed the attention.
Finally they came to one trader who made spear shafts. Most spears now were made for spearthrowers and were slender and of differing lengths depending upon their purpose. But Durcan noticed several elaborately carved, hefty spears that were unusual. These unusual spears seemed strangely familiar. "What type of spears are those, master spear maker?" he asked.
"Those are Maga Spears like those flathead Clan people use in their ceremonies," the man said in reply.
"Yes, that's where I saw one before. My mother has one of those that the Mog-ur gave her when she was in the north," Durcan said, realizing that the spears he was looking at weren't really like the one his mother had, but only had a passing resemblance. "Why would Zelandonii people be interested in something like this?" He quickly added, so as not to offend, "Other than the artistic value of course."
The man looked at him and then at his young wolf cub and said, "You might not be interested in a Maga Spear because you are the son of the First Zelandoni, but most people don't have a powerful spiritual leader as a parent and Maga Spears have the power to protect. An example of that was when our First Zelandoni killed a cave lion with one just a short while ago. That was something that an ordinary spear could not have done. So now other people want them for protection and I only have these few left, but I have made many of them this summer for people that were asking for them."
"Hmm, they don't look like the one my mother has," Durcan said, looking closely at one of the spears.
The man's face reddened, "Well, not every Maga Spear is the same, it only has to be carved to make it a Maga Spear. You'll admit that it is well carved."
"Yes," Durcan said doubtfully. "It looks good, you did a good job on the carvings, but I'm not sure that just any carving makes it a Maga Spear."
"Well, do you know that it doesn't?" The man said heatedly.
Durcan realized that he was antagonizing the trader. He hadn't meant to and was about to apologize and admit that he didn't know much about Maga Spears. He had only seen the one his mother possessed.
"Durcan!" Someone called his name.
He turned to see Jaradal hurrying toward him. "Durc! Joharran asked me to find you. Your sister and her mate have come back from their trial time and father wanted to make sure you came home to greet them." Jaradal was the hunt leader of the Ninth Cave and was Joharran's son and would probably be the next cave leader someday.
"Thank you Jaradal," Durcan said. "I'll return right away. How do they seem?"
"They're going to remain mated, if that is what you're asking," he replied sardonically.
"I-I... didn't mean anything by that," Durcan said. "I just was asking if they were alright." He felt embarrassed to have asked the question.
Jaradal brushed it aside, having had his fun. "They're doing fine and apparently they've had some adventures. I'm sure you'll hear all about it before the night is done. Now I have to go and find Jondalar. If you see him before I do, let him know." Jaradal hurried on.
"I guess we're not going swimming," Folrian said.
"No, I must return and hear what adventures my sister has had. You can come and hear too," Durcan offered. That, Folrian felt, was good compensation for missing their last swim of the Summer Meeting. She was more than curious to hear about Jonayla's adventures just as Durcan was.