Chapter 19

John and Maranga appeared at the door of the Chief’s Hut, fully dressed, but with wide smiles on their faces.

Numa opened her arms to Maranga, saying, “Welcome to the family, sister!”

Maranga hugged Numa and whispered, “Is it always that good? That is twice.”

Numa told her, “Not always, for it depends on how the people involved are feeling at the time, but with John, it is pretty good as a rule. And he seems to be a potent male, based on how many of us are already pregnant.”

“Yes. I am hoping to have a child, if it is possible,” Maranga admitted.

Numa smiled. “John will do his best to fulfil that desire, Maranga.”

“Welcome to my tribe, Chief Numa,” offered Maranga. “You will always be welcome at my hut.”

“And you likewise, Maranga. John is working on the basis that tribes should be friendly and helpful to one another. It has not always been that way.”

“I know. There are always types like the dead Shaman, who want to get their way by force. We must be on our guard for such characters in future. They are not to be trusted, as we have found.”

“Has John told you he has made friendly contact with a tribe of fishermen by the coast? They sound as if they will be useful to be friends with, so he has sent messengers to that tribe and several others to prepare for a meeting of the tribes.”

“He did mention that a little, but we got diverted into other discussions, and our talk became more and more personal.” She smiled happily.

“He is worth getting to know well, Maranga. I learn more from him every day, although he tells me that he learns a lot from his wives. It seems he knows things from his home tribe, but does not know things common in our tribal knowledge. By the way, your Maker, Brando, was here with information about bows and arrows for John to test.”

“He was? I had not heard about this new making.”

“I get the idea it was an idea he got from John, that Brando has been working on to make it a reality. Curiously, one of our tribe has found a tribe that uses bows and arrows for hunting, so there is potential for many people to learn about this new device and what its potential might be.”

“Weapons? That sounds useful, particularly with these bands of wanderers that the tribes have been encountering. We have been at peace so long that we are not prepared for proper defence. Fortunately we have not had them attack us. John’s suggestions for preparations have been implemented, so we are not as defenceless as we used to be, but some good weapons would be a help. I shall encourage Brando in his work.”

John listened to this discussion, but said nothing. He wanted to speak directly to Brando, to discover what Brando was developing. He wondered what type of wood was being used, for the traditional yew used for bows was not reckoned to be native to these warmer climes.

He put his arm round Maranga and begged, “Darling wife, may I be allowed a few minutes to go and speak with Brando about weapons, while you and Numa compare notes, Chief to Chief?”

She turned her face to his, and kissed him on the lips.

“You have my permission, husband. Numa and I want to get to know each other better, anyway. She is still your first wife, so merits being listened to. Off you go, but don’t be long.”

John knew where Brando was based, so walked briskly to his hut/workshop. Walking in the open doorway, he was greeted by the man himself.

“Chief John! Welcome to my workshop. Have you heard about my experiments with bows?”

“I have. I wondered what wood you were using, as some woods are better than others for making a bow.”

“Now there is a valid question. I have tried a number of woods, and there seems to be a need to be both springy and tough. Too springy, and there is little power to be obtained; too tough, and the bow will not bend sufficiently without snapping. I have found three that might do the job, but none is perfect. Do you know of a wood that would be best?”

“I do, but it comes from a tree that only grows in temperate climes, a bit cooler than here. We call it the yew. It has tiny leaves and is very slow-growing; it is also poisonous if you eat any part, including the seeds.”

“Hmm ... I don’t know that one, so I think it must grow very far from here. I will have to use what we have.”

John thoughtfully said, “Have you any techniques for joining two different woods? A bow made of two woods could have the tougher wood used for the base structure, and the more bendy wood used for the outer ends? The tougher wood gives the bow its strength, while the wood with more give can take the archer’s pull, if you see what I mean. I am probably not describing it accurately, as I have never made a bow, just seen them.”

“I can join two pieces of wood with a strong glue made from hide, but preparing the two sections of wood to fit accurately is a tedious job with flint edged tools. If I could borrow your big metal knife, that would make it much easier...”

John grinned at him, and told him, “Brando, I like your style. We have a number of these knives – not many – but enough that I can maybe spare one for you to use for a while; provided you look after it well. I will show you how to keep it sharp, when I give it to you.”

“Thanks, Chief John. I hate having to chip a new edge on a flint carving tool.”

John went back to the subject, “Now what about these bows you have been working on?”

“I started with a hunting bow, but that was too short to give enough power against a distant target, so I moved to a longer and longer bow, so that now I have reached the height of the average man. Am I being too enthusiastic about this? Can a man pull such a large bow?”

“Yes, that should be manageable by a trained archer. There is a need to practice more and more, until you can put enough force into a full-size bow to release a powerful arrow. Two other factors are involved: distance and gravity. Gravity is what pulls everything downward, and so as the distance increases for your arrow, you have to increase the angle upward to allow for gravity pulling it down. The result is a curved flight, and it tales practice to work out what sort of angle you need for which distance it is to your target.

For longer distances, you need a stronger bow and that needs more of a pull to achieve the force to go into the arrow.”

“That sounds complicated, Chief John,” admitted Brando.

John made a wavy sign with his hand, indicating a doubtful agreement. “It is complicated of course, but you can soon get used to it. A good archer is an asset to any army, but remember that accuracy decreases with distance. That is why any long distance target is best attacked with a number of archers at once. Between them, the chances of an effective hit are much higher.”

“So when we make bows, we should plan on a large number of archers to be taught how to shoot them?”

“Exactly so. We should train our warriors to be able to shoot arrows at a distant target, then be prepared to use spear and dagger for close-in fighting with the survivors.”

“Survivors? You expect to be able to kill a lot of enemy with the arrows?”

John was again ambivalent. “Some of the enemy will be killed, but many others will be injured and no longer able to fight, so the number facing you will be much reduced. There is a technique that warriors with long spears can use: a schiltron.”

“What the heck is that?”

“It is a formation of warriors, close packed together, with their spears pointing outward. As a static unit, the front row of warriors kneel down and plant the butt of their spears in the ground. The next row point their spears at a shallow angle above the first row, and the third row does the same again for them. If you know the hedgehog – a small beast with sharp spines all over – imagine the formation like a hedgehog; difficult to penetrate.”

“That sounds marvellous!”

“It has one drawback: if the warriors don’t stand firm, the formation collapses. Thus, it is essential that the warriors are self-disciplined and willing to stand firm when attacked. That makes the formation invincible, and if everyone keeps to their positions, the front row can pick up their spears and the whole formation walk forward slowly. This maintains the formation, but adds to the threat to the enemy force.”

“Still, it should be easy to instil that training, of standing firm.” Brando was confident in his claim.

John was not. “It is not so easy as you might think, Brando. If you have an enemy rushing at you, it is frightening to behold, and many men would prefer to turn and run. This must never happen!”

“This is why you want the archery first?”

“Now you have the idea! If the enemy is hurt by a storm of arrows raining down on them, they will not be so keen to rush forward. That makes it simpler for the defensive warriors to see that standing firm is their best option.”

Brando was thoughtful. “You make it sound as if there is hundreds of enemy attacking I have never heard of attacks with such numbers of men. Just keeping them fed while they move across the countryside must be a nightmare for the ones in charge.”

“A valid point, Brando. An army only fights well if they have fed well. Keep food supplies from them, or destroy what supplies they have, and you begin to disable that army. It is not always the injuries you inflict in battle that matters. You can win by simply starving the enemy and not fighting them until they are debilitated by hunger or thirst.”

“You are a devious warrior, Chief John. You would fight by not fighting?”

“Brando, the point of battle is not the fighting. It is the winning. All that matters is winning, whichever way you go about it.”

A young female loped up to John’s side. “Chief John, Chief Maranga says you should come.”

John adopted a formal face and responded, “Certainly, my dear. Please lead on.” He added, “I bet she said ‘immediately’!” to which the girl hesitantly said, “Yes, Chief, but I could not say that.”

“Very wise, young lady. You will become a clever lady as you grow up.”

She went on with a spring in her step, and they were back at the Chief’s hut in no time. Maranga and Numa were standing side by side, arms folded.

John went up to them and bowed deeply to each in turn.

“I apologise, Chief Numa and Chief Maranga, in my tardiness. Brando and I were discussing defence tactics and weapons, and I lost track of time. Again, my apologies.”

Numa gestured deference to Maranga, who then said, “You are forgiven, John, as this is our wedding day. You have been blessed with a wonderful wife in Numa, I have found. She sings your praises, though she loves you too much to be objective. I hope I can achieve the same level of love between partners.”

Numa glowered at me instead, and demanded, “What have you worked out, you and Brando?”

“A defence tactic that we will apply at both tribes. I will explain the detail once we get back to the cave, Numa.”

Mollified, she accepted the admission.

“Very well, but in future, don’t leave Chief Maranga waiting, O.K.?”

“Agreed. It was entirely unintentional, but I will be more careful in future, my darlings.”

Numa resumed talking to Maranga.

“Time is getting on, and I should be returning to my tribe, Maranga. Is that all right with you, and can I take my ... our ... husband with me?”

“Missing your time with him, Numa?”

“We are all missing our time with him, my dear.” She turned back to John, “Do you have anything to keep you, John?”

“Nothing, other than noting that we should have scouts out for each tribe, so that we don’t get surprised by an enemy.”

Maranga took on a thoughtful look, then said, “Leave that with me, John. I’ll get something organised here.”

Numa added, “All we need to do is expand the range that our warriors watch over. Might have to add a warrior or two to staff that unit, but it is do-able.”

After a many-hugged farewell, the John’s Tribe delegation marched off home, stopping only for essential water and toilet stops. Snacks were consumed on the walk, and the outer guard warriors had an easy time of it. It seemed that local predators were becoming scarce.

By the time they arrived, it was well after any expected arrivals from the future, so John was interested to hear what, if anything, had appeared.

Noma was able to inform him and Numa that there had indeed been a drop into the covered pit, but this time it was an animal she didn’t recognise, loaded with what looked like metal tools.

She told him, “You can probably hear the odd noise it makes from time to time, but it must be tired with that load draped round its body.”

Sheila exclaimed, “Damn it, that’s a sheep!” and went over towards the pit. Getting there, she looked in and nodded to herself.

“One sheep, present and correct. Not much use as a singleton, so I hope we get more. With a bit of luck this may be a pregnant ewe. John! They have a sent an entire tool kit: the animal can hardly move. You’d best get here and remove the gear.”

John signally to a couple of the men, and they walked over to the pit and looked in. John told the others, “I’ll jump in and hand you up the tools. Pile them to one side, and we’ll carry them to the cave later. The sheep is going to be a handful; give it a chance and it will run away. We don’t want that, or we will lose it quickly. Sheila, can you organise a squad to make a rough pen to hold it for the moment? As long as it has a good patch of grass, it should be happy.”

Sheila hurried up to the cave to collect a bunch of volunteers. She was thinking that a fence of bushes and broken branches pushed into the soil would do a quick job. It just required a lot of hands working in an organised fashion. She knew what she was doing.

John, in the pit, unfastened each tool, one at a time, and handed them up to his assistants, who followed the instructions he had given them. Finally he began to unbuckle the webbing that had been wound round the animal’s body, crushing its fleece. The sheep, about to be freed from its constraints, turned its head to stare at him. It was vaguely conscious that it was trapped in a hole with this human, and it wanted out! It tried to run up the walls of the hole, achieving nothing except to excavate some hard-packed soil.

John called to his men, “Get ready to catch it as it comes up to you. Don’t let it go!”

He grabbed hold of the front part of the sheep by the webbing, and tried lifting it up. He got it high enough that two pairs of hands latched on to the webbing, pulling it up further and giving them a good grip. John had to jerk out of the way as the hind legs scrabbled and shot about, looking for purchase. He had to let go, but the two others had a good grip of the webbing and heaved the animal up on the surrounding grass.

It tried to bolt, to get away from all its terror, but they held it tight by their grip on the webbing, keeping it still. The sheep decided it was stuck again, and halted its efforts for the moment. This gave John a chance to jump for the lip of the pit, but he could not get purchase until another pair of hands grabbed his arm and tugged. This gave his arms enough leverage for him to scrabble the rest of his body over the edge, using his bent legs to give him more purchase. He rolled away from the edge, and was able to get to his knees and then stand, thanking the woman who had helped him get out.

Gasping with the effort, he staggered over to join the other two in holding the sheep firm. It was one of the breeds where the ewes did not have horns, but he knew it would try to butt its way clear if it could.

He gasped out, “Let’s get it up to the cave. See if there is a place we can keep it from running.”

They pulled and pushed the animal up the grassy slope, and it slowly began to cooperate in this movement, as the easiest solution to its situation.

As they puffed their way upwards, they found that a large squad of men and women, directed by Sheila, were ramming broken branches into the ground in a semi-circle facing the cliff wall. Sheila was standing where she wanted a gateway, frantically urging the others to make the semi-circle complete, to hem in the sheep when it got here.

John and the other two forced the sheep over to where Sheila stood, and she stood aside to allow the men to force the beast to enter the temporary fold. The animal, on release from the webbing, tried to bolt, but there was a barrier on every side, and John and the other two men were rapidly stuffing into the gap more branches that were being dragged over to them. John thanked his lucky stars for the softness of the ground, allowing them to push the branch ends into the ground.

Sheila was asking for more pieces of wood to link the brushwood together more securely. The volunteers soon filled every gap they could find. The sheep would not try to push through, thinking that it was a solid fence. At least John hoped so.

As the animal saw it was penned in, it stopped to notice that there was grass at its feet, and put its nose down to check out the quality. Satisfied, it started to graze, to build up its stamina again.

John stood erect again, and gazed at his helpers.

“Thanks, both of you. That was a trial and a half, wasn’t it?”

They both gaped at him, then burst into laughter, agreeing with his assessment. Sheila patted each of them on the shoulder, saying, “Well done, fellows. You did a good job there. I think the sheep will stay inside for the moment. We can make a bigger enclosure for it later.”

John, still panting with all the effort, got out, “We need to collect all these tools down by the pit. There were at least two shovels, a small pick and a good axe, by the feel of it; and there is more. Can you get someone to collect them and bring them up here, Sheila?”

“Just hang on, John.” She turned and yelled loudly to Noma. “Noma! Can we have have a hand of volunteers to pick up the objects by the pit, and bring them up here? Thanks, dear.”

Noma called to several of the women, and a group were swiftly sent on the task. It took them only a little time to get there, then they had to work out how best to carry each unfamiliar item. Thereafter, the tools were quickly brought up to the cave and presented to Noma. She in turn had them taken to High Chief John, where he was looking at the sheep which was now calmer in its pen, munching on grass.

John was saying, “We don’t have enough grass to keep that sheep fed for more than day, Sheila. We’ll need to build a wider enclosure, or else tether it to a stake at the end of a long rope. Do we have any long rope?”

Sheila reminded him of his line into the darkness of the cave, but he was less than pleased at that suggestion.

“I am sure that line is not strong enough to hold a determined sheep. Sheila. We need a better solution.”

“Why not braid three strands together then, like pigtails in a girl’s hair?”

John slapped his hand against his forehead.

“Of course! That is how ropes are made. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“It was too simple for your mind, John. You always look for some complicated answer when the simple answer might be the best.”

He sighed, “You may be right at that, Sheila. You and Vickie must keep reminding me not to reinvent the wheel.”

Sheila looked at him with a surprised look on her face. “Have they invented the wheel yet, here? I haven’t seen one.”

“They probably have invented it, but not seen the possibilities in it. That was often the case with inventions: the future developments were not foreseen. When the first railway line was built in England, the investors thought only of its freight-carrying abilities. They never saw that it could be a successful passenger carrier, so it was a pleasant shock when that proved a profitable income stream.”

Sheila declared, “You are doing it again, John: remembering things in an unconnected way. Pity you can’t recall the people who sent us here.”

“Perhaps eventually, Sheila. I’ll keep trying.”

He looked up and noticed the wisp of dark smoke above the cliff face. “That fire is a bit too smoky for my liking,” he commented. It is acting like a beacon. I must see what the fire tender is up to.”

He walked quickly along the now established path to the fire pit further along. As he arrived, he found the fire unattended; the two teenagers in charge of it were under a nearby tree, making love.

John coughed to gain their attention, and they jumped at the noise.

John told them, “Two things to note: One, neither of you was paying attention to your surroundings; and more important, neither of you was tending to the fire. A leafy branch has fallen into the flames and causing smoke. You are supposed to use only dry wood.”

The boy clambered to his fee, his nakedness temporarily forgotten.

“Sorry, Chief. It is my fault. Jena came along to help me, and we got distracted. Please don’t punish her for my mistake.”

“Boy, there is no punishment. Your shame at this event is enough punishment. Go sort the fire correctly, while I see to this young lady, who I presume is now a woman.”

Jena blushed all over her face. She had taken the chance to throw on her clothing, but John noted she was an attractive girl. He spoke to her.

“Jena, you seem to have committed to this young man. Is this episode merely intended as fun, or do you have a deeper intention between you?”

She stammered, “Chief, sir, I love him. We were childhood friends in our old village, and I think we want to make it friends for life. If Grolo wants to marry me, I would say yes.”

Grolo must have been listening while he was attending to the fire, for he called out, “Jena, will you marry me? Mate for life?”

Her face lit up and her smile widened to its widest extent. ““Oh, yes, Grolo. I will.”

John adopted a frown. “You two are young and inexperienced. Choose a married couple to advise you on marriage before you take this on. There are many aspects of married life that you have to be prepared for; things like a partner unhappy and needing comforting; remembering not to snap at your spouse unnecessarily; Husband commiserating with his wife if she has sickness during pregnancy; generally learning to cope with each others’ foibles. Do not allow yourself to get distracted by another male or female, unless your spouse approves in advance, and you are prepared for becoming a larger family group, with all the costs involved. Such matters are easier said than done, which is why talking with a couple who have been married for years will help you prepare for your own life together.”

Jena bobbed her head excitedly. “Yes, sir ... Chief. We will do that: do you hear the Chief, Grolo?”

Grolo stepped back from the fire, where he had been adjusting the fuel setting, and responded, “We will do as you say, Chief John. You speak wise words.”

John left them to it, and returned to the cave, where he was soon sequestered with some of his wives, partaking of the evening meal together. Eating together seemed to support the bonding process, though he usually spent his time eating, drinking and listening to what he was told, or what was being said around him.

Maranga was one topic of discussion. The wives that had gone with him related their story to those who had remained behind, so that they all now knew the full details of the visit, except for his discussion with Brando.

That reminded him, and he finally explained to Numa the gist of his conversation with the Maker. Raka overheard this tale, and announced that she wanted to work with Brando to develop the defence tactics further. John agreed that she could do that, and reminded her that there was another tribe that used bows and arrows for hunting, so that their expertise might be worth investigating further.

Raka saw the value of such data, and declared that she would take up that challenge. If she was going to have his babies, she wanted to be sure they were protected from harm, human or animal. This would be part of her effort in that direction. Thinking about babies, she decided she wanted some more of his loving tonight, and let Numa know it, as wife in charge.

Numa agreed, provided she didn’t mind sharing with a couple of others. She was okay with that, fr it was by now the expected configuration.

John found himself drained of sperm several times that night and early morning. If these girls were not already pregnant, they probably were now.

Come morning, he was urged at breakfast to go hunting for meat and hides, along with two of the young men, so they could haul back his kills. His best target was an auroch, if he could find one available to take out.

No such luck. All he could find was the small deer-like creatures, but he picked off five of these at a distance and his assistants gutted them and carried them back.

John browsed further, but something seemed to have scared off most of the prey animals. He wondered what, thinking that a quartet of stripies may have moved in. He moved quietly, trying to keep the wind in his face, bringing him the scents of the forest, rather than conveying his man scent towards any stripies.

His ears picked up the sound of a person trudging towards him. That did not bode well, for moving like that implied tiredness and probably inattentiveness. John moved his own position to intercept the tired one.

Stopping at a game trail he found, John waited, for the tired human would probably use the available game trail. His guess proved correct, for a slowly walking figure came round a nearby curve and into view. It was a teenage boy; then John amended his thought to the mores of the period: a young man.

As he got closer, the youngster suddenly noted the man ahead of him, and was startled by this presence, ready to flee. John held up a hand, saying, “Hello there. Hold up. Who are you?”

The lad gulped, and admitted, “Fresno. Who are you, sir?”

“My name is John. John the hunter. I have been hunting for my tribe. You don’t appear to be happy, my friend. Sit down, lad. Is there a reason for your sadness that you can tell me about?”

Now sitting on a tussock of grass, he replied, “Perhaps. Which tribe do you belong to, sir?”

“John’s Tribe, and also the Farfarers tribe. I am affiliated to both. Does it matter?”

“I was sent to find John’s Tribe, but not to go directly, in case I left a trail.”

“Oh? Sent by whom?”

“The fisher tribe you visited recently ... at least, I think it was you I saw. Only a few people have such light-coloured skin.”

“It was indeed myself that you saw. I remember the village. What do you need me for?”

“The village was attacked, but this time by sea; fortunately we had warning ... The elders got reports of a larger vessel heading our way, and decided to play safe by evacuating the settlement and get out to the sea and anonymity. I was told to go find you, as carefully as I could, and ask you and your people for help.”

“Did you see what transpired, before you left the area?”

“All I know is that my people all sailed away in the opposite direction to the big ship, and further out to sea. Our smaller ships would be more difficult to see at a distance on the big water. Our crews are not afraid of the water, either close to shore or far out where the biggest fish are caught. The big ship was keeping near the coastline, so I think they either were afraid to go out to the deep sea, or they were only interested in the land. The elders were right to evacuate, for when I was well away, I looked back and saw smoke coming from the village. I think they set fire to our homes.”

John was pleased that the lad was so observant, and said so.

“Well noted, young man. It seems that your people made a wise move, but eventually they have to come back to shore, and that is the most dangerous part of the move. The people on the big ship may still be there. They may have moved the big ship but left a group of men to ambush your people if they returned soon. Most likely the big ship will return, on its way back from wherever it was heading, and pick them up at that time. That could be a few hours or days, or perhaps several weeks. Probably they were landed with supplies of food, as well as their equipment.”

“Yes, sir. You seem to know what these people are up to; I don’t. Can you help?”

“I can prepare a small force to go to your village and with a bit of luck clear it of the invading group. We shall see. First, we must get you to our tribe and get you some refreshments. Have you eaten since you left?”

“I had a bag of nuts on my belt, but as I travelled, running most of the way, I ate them all washed down with water from flowing streams, where I thought it was safe to drink. Most of the water we have in the village is collected from rainwater and stored in jars, so I was guessing.”

“Your judgement seems fine, young man. If you had more time, boiling water over a fire is the best choice, as that kills off most bad things in the water. A fire would not have been a good choice until you were a long way distant from your village.”

“That was what I thought, sir: any trail should at first be in the wrong direction, and no fire at all for the first hour or two. Then at a place with hard ground, change my direction into the forest, trying to leave no sign of my move. The attack happened yesterday, so I am well away from the enemy and have been trying to locate your camp. The elders said you used a cave, so I was looking for high ground in this general location. Was I right?”