Chapter 18

November led into December and we became even more cave bound than before. It snowed almost every week for at least three to four days per week, and it was definitely cold outside the cave. Sneaking off to the latrine was a major endeavour. In fact, chamber pots started springing up in secluded corners of the cave. The women had brought them with them from the hilltop village and from the Horse People. They helped, but they needed to be emptied every day, too.

Water also became a problem that needed resolving. The river froze solid by the end of November, and we had no source of water except for snow. I should have thought of it back in the summer when we had been so busy building everything else. It wouldn’t have been that much of a chore to dig a well on the opposite side of the enclosure from the latrine. Fortunately we’d acquired several big pots from the compound when we’d cleaned it out. We’d also had acquired all the storage boxes that all the food and goods had come in. Those were large plastic tubs that could be used to store a lot of melting snow. We made use of both and survived quite well.

Just surviving the winter wasn’t enough, though, not by a long shot. It quickly became apparent that my fledgling community had issues that needed to be resolved if we were to make it to spring as a community. It also became apparent that I was part of the problem. I had been so driven by the need to ensure that there would be enough food for the winter, and wrapped up with dealing with Quantum and their bullshit, that I hadn’t paid attention to actually building a viable group. Yes, I had appointed leaders on both sides of the gender gap; and I had made some effort at integrating people, by making certain that everyone understood one language. We all understood some of the other languages spoken by the members of our cave, but that had been it.

Cultural differences started to arise shortly after we closed off the cave entrance and settled in for the long winter that was howling outside our cave. It arose from the men in the community. I had jobs that needed doing, and I had no problem delegating tasks when something needed attention that didn’t necessarily need me. People like Uttar and Vedic were pretty good about picking up the slack when I needed their assistance, particularly when it meant that they learnt something new. Others weren’t so open to the idea of cutting leather or shovelling snow. Kobo was like that, as was Tonko, and Sygor. I had to take them aside and explain to them the facts of life, which included that everyone worked in my cave! If I could carve wood to make bows and saddles, then they could shovel snow or tote in a pot of snow for the women when it was needed.

The big problem was gender related. I won’t say that the Hilltop People were more liberal minded than the Horse People or the Plains People, but in a manner of speaking those who’d joined me in the beginning, interacted with the women in a better fashion than the men who’d come into the cave just before the snow. Kobo, Durt, Tonko, Gabon, and Sygor weren’t as willing to take orders from Clara and Gabby as Rugar, Uttar, Vedic, or Gort.

Tonko was the worst. The kid was a great kid when he was out doing manly stuff like taking care of the horses, or hunting; and he never gave me grief if I sent him to do work related to those two topics, but any other job was beneath him. He hated getting dressed to go outside with Clara, Gabby, or Ramie to fetch something from the stores cave. To him fetching and carrying was woman’s work.

What made matters worse was the fact the Horse People treated their women like second class citizens, up to the point that their women weren’t allowed to interact with other men. It meant that I couldn’t give a job to Tula or Nayla directly; and if Tonko or Gabon didn’t want their wives doing the job, then their wives didn’t do the job. To me it was intolerable.

Sygor had his own issues with women as well. The youth had been fourteen when I first met him. According to what I had learned chatting with him, he’d been unmated. Now he was getting closer to being fifteen and he was starting to show interest in being mated. Regrettably there weren’t any women close to his age for him to take for his mate except for Zeya and when I suggested her to Sygor, his response was less than flattering.

Since coming to this place and meeting the local population, I’d come to accept that most men had a phobia about taking the mate of a dead hunter as his own. Rugar had explained the logic to me over tea one morning, back in the beginning, when we’d just started to get to know each other. The belief was that if a hunter died hunting it was his mate’s fault.

I had asked how that could be so, and Rugar said, “It is believed by hunters that if a mate is unhappy with her mate, because he has not treated her well, she will pray to the Earth Mother to come and claim her life. Unfortunately, the Earth Mother is a powerful spirit and she never acts directly in anything she turns her mind towards. If a woman wishes death, then the Earth Mother will speak to the spirit of whatever prey that the woman’s husband is hunting that day, and the spirit will make certain that the hunter will die. Because the villagers do little if anything to help support widows, then the woman’s wish is soon granted. She will die because her mate is now dead and to take a widow as a mate is considered to bring that bad luck upon yourself. No hunter would willingly do it, no matter how much he desires the woman.”

In a manner of speaking, it made sense to me. I could even see where the original concept had come from, by listening to how Ramie spoke to Gort. While I treated him as a hunter and a man, Ramie still treated him from time to time as her son, bestowing on him her womanly knowledge. She’d been doing it lately as Gort grew more attached to Geeta. She reiterated that a good mate always treated his mate with respect and consideration, to ensure her happiness; and thereby gain his own happiness and prosperity. It was clear to me that someone had started the mantra long ago, to ensure mates treated each other well. Over generations, it had become a phobia. There was very little I could do to change that attitude, even by taking as many widows to my hearth who were willing to share it with me. To my cave people, I was special. What I did in the face of their fears didn’t count.

Sygor had a slightly different stance on the matter. He’d called Keya a whore. Naturally, he’d used his word, which was one I hadn’t learned yet. When I did learn what it meant, I was shocked. Surprisingly, Sygor didn’t understand why. To him it was fine that Zeya was a whore, but a hunter never mated permanently with one.

This topic took me to Taka, Sygor’s sister. She was embarrassed by what her brother had told me, but she also shared the same belief. In her telling, though, it became clear that Taka also felt that she herself was a whore. That revelation led to more conversation and more revelations that left me scratching my head.

The Plains People were somewhere culturally in between the Hilltop People and the Horse People when it came to how they treated their widows. They didn’t leave them to starve to death or leave them to fend for themselves as best they could, they instead provided for their widows by turning them into whores. As Taka explained it, if a man wanted to lie with the widow, then he brought her food or something she could trade for food. The widow accepted whatever was offered because to do otherwise would mean starvation. It had been that way for a long time in her village. She said that other villages that she’d visited were the same.

It made me sit and ponder for a while. Sygor wasn’t the only problem arising out of this clash of cultures. I knew that the only way to defuse the situation, was to confront it head on.

I called a meeting the next night. It started right after supper had finished and the dishes had been cleaned up.

“I want to speak to you about our cave,” I said, addressing everyone there; both young and old, males and female. It took them all by surprise. I waited for a moment for everyone to settle and to turn their attention towards me, and then I went on. “This is an important talk! I want everyone to listen and to consider what I say, before they choose to share their thoughts with me or with others in this cave. I know that I have not been the best leader to you people. I also know that I have not been the worst. Hopefully in time, and with your help, I will get better. I’ve been busy and I have focused on feeding this cave and protecting it. I have not paid attention to small problems that should have been dealt with from the beginning. By not dealing with those problems, I have let those problems fester and grow to become big problems that threaten our cave. I want to address those problems, tonight, and over the coming days as well. I want to resolve them where I can; and to try and at least show you that some things must be accepted, regardless of how much you think otherwise. I don’t intend to do this by threat or force. I intend to do it with your help. Only by us working together will we make this cave work. More importantly, we will ensure that we survive!”

It was the beginning of a long night for our community. I started with some basics that I intended to stand by, including the fact that while I was leader, I did not lead alone. Clara and Gabby both spoke for me, as did Ramie. In fact I made it clear that I delegated authority to the women often, and they spoke for me when they approached anyone in the cave with a task that needed doing. I reiterated loudly that everyone in our community worked! It caused some grumblings, but I silenced them then and there. I made it clear I would listen to each person after I had spoken, and after they had given my words careful consideration.

I also made it clear that so long as I was leader of the cave no woman who became widowed, and no child who became orphaned, need fear their next meal or their place within the cave. I gave the same promise to all the women in the cave that my hearth would feed and clothe those who were in need, regardless of whether they shared my furs or not. From there I pressed on, telling the gathered group what my vision of the future would be. It included a society open to new ideas, new experiences, and in a word or two: freedom of speech. Yes, I had a vision, but the vision included them! I was willing to acknowledge that my vision would not be achieved without their willingness to live in the world I wanted to build. To gain that willingness, I was willing to listen, and to hear their concerns. By the time I was done talking, my people knew what I expected from them, and they knew what I expected of them.

We didn’t get into too much of what they thought of my long monologue. It was late when I finished up talking. I called it quits for the night. I promised to make my ear available tomorrow, and that we would talk again as a group, tomorrow evening. Then we all went to bed.

That talk was the first of many talks. I heard from all the men the next morning. It started with Rugar and then it continued on down to Sygor. Rugar supported me on some of my thoughts, but he was concerned about the way I expected the men to treat the women. The fact that Rugar was more of a moderate on the topic didn’t help. I got the feeling that some of the men, and I figured one to have been Kobo, wanted Rugar to put pressure on me to change my stance. I told him I wouldn’t, and then I gave him an example of why not.

“Rugar, you are my right hand in many things,” I told the man calmly, but firmly, “but there are times that Clara or Gabby knows better. Clara is a healer. She is also a strong leader. She can organize a cave so that it runs well. It was she who worked with Ramie and the others from the village when you first came here to live, to ensure that our cave was ready for winter. Does that not entitle her to respect? She tends the cuts of the men who hurt themselves on the hunt and the women who injure themselves foraging. She delivers children, and has taught others that being clean will keep sickness away. Without her we would be facing a long, hard winter and we would be living in a cave where people would be ill and all would be in disarray. The men may not like to admit it; but Clara is a leader, here, and I will show her my respect by acknowledging it. I will do the same with others as well. I have seen the work Beria has taken on, making mukluks for all the men. Ramie asked her to do that for the cave, because Beria is skilled with leather and thread, and she makes the finest moccasins in the cave. I appreciated your mate’s efforts and I will respect her for what she contributes to the cave. If Beria asks a man for a skin to make a moccasin for another man, and he objects, then he will speak to me. When I say all work in the cave, and all eat, I do not mean just food. Together, working together, we will survive. Separately, we will not.”

Rugar couldn’t argue with that, though others tried. I made it clear that come spring if they still felt the same, then they could go and form their own cave. For the present that shut them up, at least on that topic. On others, people got just as vocal once they realized that I would listen to them. It was an informative exercise for me; and it was an informative exercise for them, too. In addition to airing grudges and perceived injuries, the exercise established within the community’s minds, just where I stood on an issue and just how far the community could push me before I drew a line and said, ‘enough.’

It didn’t resolve Sygor’s problem of wanting a mate.

“There is little I can tell you, Sygor,” I told the youth the next day when he came to confront me on my views about women. We’d talked; I’d listened, and eventually, we’d moved on to his marital prospects. “We have a cave full of available women, at least from my perspective. Some are close to your age and others are older and with children. To me all would make you a good mate, but you do not see it that way. I’ve spoken to your sister and I understand your viewpoint, but it is the viewpoint of your old life. I will not try make you change your view on this. I will, however, reiterate that no woman in this cave need lay with a man if she does not wish it. There are no ‘whores, ‘ here. I have not taken your sister to my furs by giving her a skin in exchange for the use of her body. If Taka comes to my furs, it will be of her choice and with no compulsion upon her from me. The same applies to you, my young friend. You will not force a woman to your bed. As for a mate, I cannot help you other than to say that in the spring we will go visit the Horse People to give Chief Agar the saddles that I promised him. You may come with me and see what the Horse People have to offer you as a mate. You might actually get lucky. However be warned that the Horse People may not welcome you at their hearth. They may not wish to mate their daughters to a man of another tribe. We will not know about this, until we meet with Chief Agar. Until then, I would suggest turning your mind to making a friend with one of the women. Treat her respectfully, and who knows what will happen.”

Talking brought up other issues that I’d left unanswered for my people. Religion was at the top of the list. These people didn’t go to church or mosque or any other formal place of worship, however they were still very religious; which, by the way, I was not.

Clara came to my aid, there. She had been raised a good Catholic, but in truth she wasn’t one at all. She was into alternative faiths. At the time we’d departed our time for the here and now, she’d been dabbling in paganism. She wasn’t an expert, but she did have some understanding of what these people needed from me as a leader in the form of religious guidance. In our conversations together, Clara reminded me that these people still believed that I had a pipeline to the spirit world, which was why we had the lamps and I could kill a man from a great distance. I had to admit she was right.

Clara took charge of the religious aspect of our community. That caused some more problems for me, but we worked it out quickly. While healers were recognized as having some connection to the spirit world, for these people only a shaman had any real say in what the spirits really wanted and why they did what they did. It meant that I had to adopt the mantle of priest/king in the cave, however once that was accepted I could claim Clara as my attendant. People accepted that she helped me, but I held the power.

This is not to say we started having Sunday service, bible studies, or any other regular forms of religious education or worship. What it meant was that I had to be there to try and explain why someone got sick or even died, and to reassure the persons family that I was calling in all the spirits I could muster to help save the sick person or to protect them in the afterlife. It also meant performing rituals at certain times of the years that were expected by the people. To do this Clara spoke to all the women in the cave, bringing them together to hash out what rituals were needed and how they would be performed.

That was a complication brought about by our multicultural community. The best example I can give you was when Keya presented her newborn son to me to be named. In the Hilltop society, the father of the child acknowledged the child by naming it. If the father failed to name the child then the child would be taken from the village and left to die of exposure or by predators in the woods. This custom differed in the Horse People’s culture and the Plains People’s culture. In the Horse People, the shaman named the child, while in the Plains People allowed their women to name the child. It meant that I needed to make a decision on the matter that placated everyone in the cave. In the end I decided to do what I had done with Keya and little Kobo. She had presented the child to me not only as the man who shared his hearth with her, but as the leader of the tribe. I had come up with the child’s name by consulting my mates, my women, and even Rugar about what would be right. So that became our new custom; all children would be named by the chief of the tribe with consultation with his advisors, both male and female. It actually pleased everyone including the hardcore men like Kobo.