Chapter 45

“You think you recognise some women, from the short time you saw them before? I really have to point out to you that all the women you see here are part of this tribe. In that case, might you have misidentified them as a bunch of runaways? These women are not runaways; they are at home in our tribe; that should be obvious.”

The man gulped and reassessed his position.

“I see, sir. Perhaps I was hasty in assuming they were the same women. If they are part of your tribe, they cannot be the missing women, of course.”

John concluded, “Naturally, you will put your misidentification aside and not mention it on your return home.”

“Quite so, High Chief. I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble with an entire army, so I will stay silent on the matter.”

With that agreement between them, the messenger set off again. John was stuck with how to pass on the northern army message to the duke, as he didn’t have a travelling trader to hand. As he pondered that difficulty, Raka came to speak with him.

“If you are free, John, can I give you an update on our soap making?”

“Certainly, Raka. Is it going well?”

“Too well, if anything! We are running short of wood supplies for burning to produce wood ash. We have gone through all the nearby forest for dead wood; even breaking off dead branches from trees. This means we either have to go much farther from the cave, and our collectors will need protection, and it will be more trouble to drag or carry the wood back to our ash fireplace.”

“You need a solution to the problem?”

“Yes. I haven’t thought of anything yet, and no-one else has offered a practical answer. Any ideas?”

“Hmm ... it seems a very practical problem, so there ought to be a simple solution.” John stopped to think. “Why do we drag wood? Is it purely due to weight and size? I take it we don’t bring back whole young trees!”

“No, you are right. If it is a dead tree trunk, and it is fairly straight, several people can carry it along the trail, but it is hard work for any real distance. If it is a more bushy tree, we have to hack off the sticking out branches, so it will fit into the trail width. If the wood is found far from the trail, it is a real nuisance.”

“Okay,” John worried at the case. “We now have access to battery-powered saws as well as axes, so we can cut off branches more easily, and if it is a bent trunk, we can cut it through to make it two or more lengths. Normally I would suggest a wheelbarrow to carry the wood, but having to balance tree trunks on a small barrow is simply changing one difficulty for another. Perhaps two or three barrows could take the weight and size.”

He halted that thought and began thinking about new solutions. “Forget what I just said. Instead of barrows, all we really need is a wheel, or maybe two wheels to take the weight, below an axle and a holding frame built on the axle. Then, to hold tight the wood of whatever size and shape, a length of hide rope to tie the wood to the frame. The longer the tree trunk, the more supports it will need to make it easy to move along the trail.

This is a job for Brando. I can explain it to him, and he can make what is needed, and we will need many of them, plus a barrow for carrying the power saw and a spare battery to and from the collecting site.”

John suddenly realised that what he was effectively describing as ‘wheeled supports’ was the train bogies used for rail carriages and freight wagons, that allowed the wagons to take curves on the rail track. If it worked for trains, it should work for logs through a forest track.

John wandered over to look at the sheep in their pen. Damn, he thought, the pen needs to be moved again, as they have eaten most of the grass. We can’t spend all our time moving the fence to a different area, just to give the sheep more grass to consume. If we could get the dogs trained as sheepdogs, they could keep the sheep together as a flock, and probably protect them as well. Come to think of it, the dearth of predators means that we don’t have to spend so much effort in protecting the sheep.

He called to Numa for a discussion, and soon was explaining his thoughts about the sheep, and using the dogs to herd them.

She looked at him in surprise.

“John, we don’t just sit around passing the time in this tribe waiting for you to issue orders. We do our own thinking. We came to the conclusion a while back that we should use the dogs, as they grew, to act as sheep protectors, so we have been teaching the dogs that sheep are not for chasing for fun, but for guarding as a responsibility. They are coming along fine in that way, so we did not start moving the fence yesterday, as we would normally. We are allowing the sheep to get hungry, then when we open the fence, they will start munching on the nearest good grass. The dogs, under their mistress and masters control, will keep them from straying too far. Did you have any better plan?”

John was dumbfounded.

“Numa, I have underestimated you ladies again. You have noticed the need and worked out what to do about it. Well done, my love.”

“There is another matter that I have to tell you about. While making the soap is a routine matter now, one of our ladies dropped some salt into the lye by accident, but let it pass. When that batch of soap was being made, it solidified much quicker than before. I investigated what had happened, and delegated the woman to test out adding salt; varying the amount of salt added each time. That way we found the amount needed to make it work best. The resulting soap is also harder, so you don’t go through it so fast. I have decided to alter our recipe to include the salt in future.”

He pulled her to him and gave her a full-on kiss. “I knew there was a reason for making you Chief! It was to give rein to your own genius ideas and plans, because I love you and trust you. Go ahead with your plans for the soap, the sheep and dogs, Chief Numa. I couldn’t do better.”

“Wow, an admission that he isn’t perfect! I always knew that, but you are near enough perfect for me, John. Just keep the warfare away from us, that is all I want. Oh, another thing: I will get Brando started on the construction of houses using the panels we found in the store. You can concentrate on your doings with the invader army.”

“Will do, Numa, but we will probably have to take warfare to THEM, instead. I intend to make my warriors as safe as possible, no matter who they are. The safety of any tribesman or tribeswoman is my responsibility, and I take that obligation seriously. That is why I am working my butt off to keep the southern army from attacking or even advancing at all.”

“Oh, yes. You have to let them know that folk from the north army are visiting tribes to the north of us. How are going to do that?”

“Damned if I know. Last time I used a trader who was going that way, and bribed him to take the message.”

Numa informed him in a serious voice, “You are not going to send anyone from my tribe, for who knows what they might do to him or her.”

“Numa, that restricts my options somewhat. I may have to deliver the message myself.”

“You chose to make the arrangement, John, so live with it. You don’t go without first making love to any of your wives who want you, though. That is another of your self-imposed responsibilities.”

John gave a huge sigh as he pretended it was a chore he regretted. “If you insist, my Chief.”

“I do. You are away so often that some of the wives have missed out a fair amount. Pregnancy makes a woman more horny, my dear husband.”

“So I am told. Horny is a funny word. In one country where I used to live, there was a punishment called ‘being put to the horn’, which apparently meant you were being denounced as a rebel, and the announcement was made after three blasts of a horn to attract attention to the declaration.”

Numa scowled. “That is as bad as your other tales of things that happened in your old home, John. None of it makes much sense to me, as I have no way of relating it to life as I know it here.”

“Sorry, my pet. I like to reminisce occasionally as things come back to me. My memory is all I have of my former life, apart from Vickie. I did not know Sheila or Jean in my old life.”

“You may have that memory, but I have to remember how my father was killed, and my mother’s death long before. It is not fun to have bad memories, John.”

“True, but before that, you probably have good memories of your family as you grew up. Choose those to think of, instead of your father’s death. Noma should be thinking the same way. Then once you have a baby in your arms, that will be the focus of your attention. It certainly will be for me.”

Chief Numa sighed with pleasure at what she was thinking.

“I never anticipated when my father was attacked that I and Noma would not only survive, but be the basis for a new tribe, and that soon I would be Chief of that tribe! You have completely transformed my life, John.”

“You changed my own life just as much, Numa. When I arrived here, I knew nothing about people and society; about what was acceptable and what was not; about what I could do for myself and the local tribes. We are slowly getting towards what I want to happen.”

“And what is that, my husband? You have already got a respectable pack of wives, children on the way, and overall charge of two tribes. You have a degree of influence over a foreign army as well, and are building up good trade between tribes and these sea merchants as well. What else could you want, to make your life happier?”

John looked her in the eyes, and gave her a dutiful kiss. “There is always something more, Numa. If a man is totally satisfied, his life is over. It is best to have another ambition in life to add to what you have already achieved, and that goes for me as well. Every ambition achieved is the start point for the next ambition. I want to see our little two-tribe community expand to become a unified society of many tribes with similar attitudes and outlooks on the future. A tribe should not simply try to subsist, to survive until next summer; it should have wider horizons, of trading, intermarrying between tribes, developing new technologies and social norms; oh, everything that says that you are living, not just surviving!”

Numa stared at him in surprise. “You want to take over the entire continent, as you call it?”

John looked innocently in return. “I don’t want to take over ANY tribes! I just want them all to agree to be part of a wider grouping that all have the same objectives in life.”

“And how do you intend to get them to do that?”

“Mostly by talking to them, but if I also show them how to make their lives better, I believe they will decide for themselves.”

“That is going to take a lot of walking, probably for years and years!”

“True, if I do it all myself. I hope to gather a number of volunteers to go out and do my talking for me.”

“Not me, my man; I have a tribe to run. In addition, if I have a baby with me, I am staying at home. I am sure most of the other women will feel the same. That means you need to find men to train up as your representatives.”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that, Numa. I would not be happy anyway, sending out women on their own.”

“Thank the Earth Mother for that blessing. Have you any other bright ideas?”

“Yes.” He put an arm round her and patten her bum. “We could go back inside and let me show you how much I love my clever Chief.”

“Now that IS a bright suggestion...” Numa giggled. “So much more fun than running the tribe...”

They sneaked off to the furs and made sweet love as only a couple in love can achieve, until Numa gave John a final loving hug and reminded him, “You still have to go and report your information to Duke Drago, my love. Best not to delay it any further, for it is a long distance you have to travel.”

John pulled himself out of Numa’s clasping love tunnel, as he was already deflating after emptying into Numa for a second time.

“I hate to leave you again, Numa, but you are right. I had better get dressed and prepare for the journey. I will go to the fisher village and take my directions from there, for they talked with the messenger on his buffalo steed. As it happens, I want to ask questions of the fisher folk about how they build their boats.”

“Why do you want to ask that, John? We are not near the coast, so we don’t need boats for ourselves.”

“Just curiosity, for boatbuilding in this era was unknown to us in my time, as we had not found enough derelicts old enough. Ancient boats do not survive the degradations of time.

Here, I can ask direct; do they build them as sewn planked boats throughout, or do they start with a dugout to act as a keel, or what? The big boats that the merchants use are on completely a larger scale, so these ships must be built in a shipyard using a more advanced technique to hold the structural pieces together securely. Even after hitting that pirated ship with a couple of small rockets, it held together impressively. They must using mortice and tenon joints at the minimum.”

“Funny-named joints? If such devices amuse you, then fine, John, but don’t let it delay you in delivering your message to the Duke. He needs to continue being impressed with your effectiveness at gathering information for him.”

“Okay,” John accepted this stricture, but added in return, “You can send a message to Brando about making wheeled supports for trundling trunks of firewood home. Send someone who has had to do the job of transporting wood, so that Brando can get the full picture and see what is needed.”

It took John longer than he anticipated to prepare himself for the journey. He wanted to have the benefit of the best weapons and tools possible, yet had to avoid giving the invader army notice of goods that they did not have for themselves. The crossbow he could get away with as it had always been with him. He could insist that it was a one-off gift to him from the Earth Mother. He didn’t have to mention the other weapons stashed inside the store room at the back of the cave. What the eye didn’t see, the heart couldn’t strive for, was John’s judgement.

He was given a pack containing food supplies for up to a week, a bar of soap and a bag of shampoo to help him keep clean, and he had his survival knife in its scabbard. Unless he drew it, the handle would be assumed to be that of a flint knife. Sheila had included a bag of herbal-flavoured water, which John was inclined to view as cold tea, but it made a change from the usual stream water, but his supplies included some military water purifying tablets for use if he ran out of his herbal tea. The other essentials were a change of underwear and a change of outer wear including moccasins, to make himself presentable to the Duke; as John was a High Chief he must look the part at a meeting.

John was thinking to himself that he also had to assess what knowledge he could display to the Duke. It must be nothing that would not already be known to the Duke or his fellow army leaders. The idea of metal could be mentioned, but only as information known at second hand. Any metal found on his person must be dismissed by John as a magic material gifted to him without his knowing how to identify it. Gifts could be said to be from the Earth Mother or from the Northern Army, as appropriate. Things made from wood, if mentioned, could be happily described as the products of a genius Maker in another tribe; products that John’s tribe acquired in trade.

He checked that his double-soled moccasins were made to the local standard, affixed by glue and not machine stitched with the new sewing machine. The same applied to how his clothes were stitched together. His check revealed a patch in his change of clothes that had been machine stitched, so he asked for a replacement that did not bear evidence of previously unknown technology.

His contents check completed and his pack now proof against even the minutest examination, he concluded by looking over the seals of the pack itself. These passed with his generous approval, so he said his farewells and set out, heading for the fisher village. He reckoned to be there well before twilight.

His estimate was on target, and he arrived on the outskirts before the evening meal and was escorted by children into the village to an audience with the Headman.

“Hello again, High Chief. What brings you back here so soon?”

“I am just passing through this time, Chief, on my way to meet with Duke Drago, my contact within the invader army. If I may spend the night here, and beg you for meals tonight, in the morning, I shall be on my way to him.”

“High Chief John, you are always welcome at our meal table, on any occasion you show up here. Can we offer some food supplies for your onward journey?”

“I came prepared for my journey, Chief, but if you wish to insist that I take some dried or smoked fish, I will not be so crass as to refuse.”

The Headman gave a wry smile. “I will not insist on anything, John, but please accept what small contributions to your trail food supplies we might offer in the morning.”

“I would not presume to go against such generosity, Chief. However, may I ask an impertinent question about your fishing boats?”

The Headman frowned, but replied, “Ask away, my friend.”

“What techniques do you use to construct them? I have heard of dugout boats, but your boats are clearly not that. I have also heard of planked boats with the planks sewn together with a robust material made from trees. Is it either of these?”

The Headman wrinkled his mouth as he considered his reply.

“It is neither, entirely. The boats have a keel, and that is based on a dugout tree, but from then upwards, it is a series of planks, and most of them are linked together by sewing with the supple tree material you talked of. There are cross struts between the two sides of the boat, and these are connected by male-female joints, and they help keep our boats secure in all weathers.

As for joining planks together, one above the other, we make holes near the top and bottom edges of our planks, and the adjoining planks are sewn through these holes. When the planks are so fixed, the links are coated in a natural tar that we have found some distance from here, in an area of another tribe, so we have a deal whereby we can gather tar in our containers, and we supply them with fish in return. Our fishing boats can flex freely in the waves, but very little water gets into the boat through the hull.”

“Sounds good. Do you think the longboat used by the pirates and later dug up by the merchants to retrieve it, was built in the same way? I don’t remember seeing signs of sewing between the planks.

You will recall how heavy that boat was? You needed rollers to move it over the land.”

“Indeed. I was thinking that was because that boat was built entirely with our male-female joints. The one plank would have a sort of projection sicking up, and the plank above would have a hole dug out to fit that projection. Do you see?”

“Now I do,” said John. “I knew it as a mortise and tenon joint, but these were often nailed through to stop them coming loose.”

“We do the same thing. We bore a narrow hole right through and insert a hard wooden peg to keep the joint tight. Is that what you mean by a nail?”

“More or less. Originally it was a wooden peg known as a tree-nail, but later it was a metal ‘peg’ just called a nail.”

“Is that like the long knife that you wear? Is that the ‘metal’ you mean?”

“Not quite, Chief. You see, there exists a number of metals, some more easy to extract from the ground than others. Then there is the problem of having to heat them to high temperatures to make them liquid temporarily. Copper can be melted at much lower temperatures than iron, so copper is going to be the first metal used around the world. When the metal we called tin is added, it bewcomes a tougher metal called bronze. Duke Drago gave me a bronze knife as an expensive gift, so someone produces copper and tin somewhere; we just don’t know where. It is like the big ships: we know a civilisation builds them, but we don’t know where that civilisation lies. Trade benefits everyone.

As is often the case, one civilisation makes advances in one way, and another in another way, then when they meet, there is usually an exchange of technologies, so that both benefit. Think of it as trading, only instead of goods, you trade ideas in the form of technologies or further advances on existing technologies.”

“What sort of technologies might that be, High Chief?”

John though for a bit, then suggested, “A civilisation might build with stone blocks where these are easy to obtain, especially where the stone is found in layers such as shale, siltstone, mudstone that can be easily split into flat slabs. In other places, such as here, the prevalence of forests makes it preferable to build in wood. In places where there is a lot of clay, you can mix the clay with water and place the resulting mud in a squared-off mould. When it dries hard, if forms a mud brick that you can use for building. In areas with more sandy clay, you can make an enclosed-fire oven and bake the bricks inside. These bricks are much stronger than sun-dried bricks. These are all different technologies, but such technologies can be traded, so that tribes that use mud brick can change to fired brick and then be able to build taller structures.”

“I get what you saying. New building materials and techniques can be just as valuable as normal trade items.”

“Exactly. As fishermen, you may have discovered reefs hidden slightly below the water surface off the coast. Fish often gather near such reefs, to feed and hide if they are small prey species. You find out that information for your own purposes, but other ships need to know about such reefs, to avoid wrecking their ships on them. That information is thus valuable to other mariners, so you can trade that information for details of fishing grounds further away, that you may not know about.”

The Headman quickly came back with “People like the sea merchants, you mean?”

John spread his hands, saying with a smile, “How would I be aware whether they know or not? You can ask them about reefs they know the location of, and suggest there are some that you know as well. That information may be valuable for them to hear about.”

“High Chief, every time you visit, I learn a little more from you. Feeding you is very worthwhile and productive! Have a good journey to the invader army, my friend.”

John’s onward journey was notable for the number of people he met going the opposite way. Some he asked about their reason for their trip, and most gave the same answer: uncertainty about the invader army. They were unsure if the army was going to advance or stay at the same positions, or go back to where they came. In both the first options, life was going to be tough, and the third option was not evident at this time. Moving out of the way was the most advantageous decision. Anyone John caught up with, usually laden, turned out to be a trader hoping to sell to the tribes or else to the army beyond.

The next tribe John reached and asked questions of, proved to be one that had not been visited by the invader army. They in turn asked his name, and he told them, “John the Hunter”. They were however wary of unknown visitors, so John bade them farewell, and went on his journey. The next tribe proved similar, but they had heard about army visitors and to John’s military mind they were clearly putting as much food as possible into hidden stores, as they had heard of demands made by the invader army. John stopped merely to partake of his own food, ostentatiously not expecting anything from them. He saw from their eyes that he had done the right thing by them. As he left, he remarked, “If I meet any army men, I will mention that your tribe is low on food at present. Perhaps they will take such information to heart, and not bother you.”

The man he was talking to offered in return, “That would be a helpful approach to take. If anyone asks about you, we will find it difficult to describe you, or even remember the name you gave us!”

John smiled at this underhand conspiracy. “Goodbye, my friend. I hope your tribe survives any meeting with the army. You might decide to send your women on a long distance foraging expedition north of here the minute you hear of a possible visit by the army. A child could be sent to tell them if it is safe to return.”

“Wise words indeed. Thank you.”

Another tribe further on, and John heard his first mention of an army visit. This one Invader party was a mere scouting detail, and had been nearly a moon back from now. John was pleased to hear this. He asked what the attitude of the soldiers had been.

His informant told him, “A touch of arrogance, as if they were more powerful than us, though they did not threaten us in any way. They simply asked about the size of the tribe and the extent of our boundaries. We explained that boundaries were fluid, and depended on the availability of animals for hunting and other sources of food, but we mentioned a couple of small rivers that we seldom crossed because of the danger of drowning.

That made them happy, and they left.”

John ventured, “They were sent to find out about tribes ahead of their advance, it seems. If no army people have appeared since then, that is good news. It suggests they have not moved towards you at all.”

“We were hoping that was the case. But we had no past experience to judge from. Did you?”

“I have had some experience with armies. You should have had another visit before now, if they intended coming here soon. They would want their information updated before advancing.”

“If you know so much, why are you going in their direction?”

“Ah, I have my personal reasons, but nothing you need concern yourselves about. My intentions are honourable, but for your own good, you should not even know my name, or even that I was here. It is sfare that way.”

This got John a ‘Harrumph’, but nothing more substantial, so he said goodbye and set out on the next leg of his journey.

He observed that stripies had not been in evidence all day, so there must be a dearth of them in this area as well as back home, or they were being very cautious about being anywhere near humans.

When he got to the next tribe on his generally southward trek, the difference was quickly apparent. The tribesfolk were sullen and uncooperative, even though he pointed out that he was nothing to do with the invader army; going the opposite way. They replied that his paler skin marked him out as different, so he might have some connection with the army, some of whom had lighter skins even though most were dark-skinned like themselves.

“Really?” John remarked. Some of the soldiers have pale skins like me?”

“Not quite as white as you, but certainly much lighter than the rest. They are the only men we have ever seen with pale skins, that is why we took you for one of them.”

“I can assure you I am not one of them. My tribe is far to the north of here, but I was a newcomer from another land, where many of the people have pale skin like mine. Skin colour seems to be related to which part of the world you come from. It is something to do with the amount of sunshine you get on your body. Northerners get less sunshine.”

“A likely tale, but we still dare not trust you. We will allow you to stay long enough to rest, then be on your way. Where are you going?”

“I have a message to deliver from one of the tribes far to the north, to a man who calls himself a Duke, whatever that is.”

“A Duke? Would that be Duke Drago?”

“It might be; it sounds about right. My instructions were not all that clear to me, and I didn’t feel I could query them. Things usually work out right if you just go with the flow.”

“That man is different from the normal soldiers. He seems to have a different view of life and people. He told us if a messenger came for him, to send the messenger to the place called Kartomin. Do you know where that is located?”

“No. I have never heard of it,” said John.

“We were told it is a half day’s walk in that general direction,” the man pointed out the direction. “It is apparently to the left of the pointed hill when you get closer.”

“Right; thanks. I’ll follow that route and hope it gets me there.”

The tribesman watched him leave, still suspicious of any stranger. John felt some sympathy for the man, but daren’t show it. He trudged on.

He could tell that it would be almost dark by the time he arrived. He would not be able to reconnoitre in such conditions, so he watched for a place to spend the night. He was passing a small cliff with trees in front, so he kept an eye out for signs of a cave, or even an overhang where he could stay dry if it rained. At last he noticed the cliff edge leaning out at a higher level, so he judged that there might be a place between the trees and the cliff face. He pushed through the trees, and made his way towards the cliff.

There was a shallow cave or at least a depression there. It went in about for or five feet, and if it was not too uncomfortable, that would do him. He checked it out, and was satisfied with what he found. There was an indication, a dried turd, that it had been used before, possibly by a hunter; and if anyone spotted him in there, that would be his excuse. He pulled a large leaf from a plant and used it to remove the offending faeces from his temporary home.