Chapter 28

He chuckled at her words and looked at her with new eyes. This woman was witty and wise, and merited proper attention. He also revised his former jaudiced view of marrying her. She could indeed fit in with his other women, just as they had told him.

“Koriba, I would like to mention that my wives have asked me to consider adding you to our family group, and now I am convinced you could be an asset to our family. Would you like to join us?”

“Is that as a concubine, as a wife, or just a fucking friend?”

“Whatever you want, Koriba. I am not sure of your own wants or needs. If it is as a wife or a concubine, that means having my babies in all likelihood. As a fucking friend or just as a friend, whichever you fancy, you may have to take a chance, though apparently there are herbs you can use that might prevent pregnancy; so the ladies tell me. Both of them want babies, so we haven’t explored that option.”

Koriba asked, “I like the look of you, Cormoro. Can we start with being friends and work partners, then perhaps move to fucking friend, and then to wife if it all goes well?”

“That sounds a good plan, Koriba. Let’s go with that.”

John and Jean went to Chief Numa to report on progress with the woman sneaking out of the camp to the forest. John left Jean to say the words.

“Chief Numa, my dear, we solved the mystery of the sneaking woman; you know, the tall one.”

“Good. I am glad to have that cleared up. What did you find? And you said ‘we’, and John is here, so did you work together on it?”

“Yes. I needed his military expertise to find in the forest whatever she was up to. I was only able tio find where she left the trail. John followed her tracks while she was back here in the cave. He found a small plantation – you would be best think of it like a garden plot where you grow herbs. This one was a large plot of one particular plant that she was cultivating secretly.”

“Ahah! So that’s what had her sneaking around; her private herb garden?” Numa said.

“More of less. The single crop turned out to be a plant that is used by Shamans in the form of powdered roasted leaves. It acts to give them visions, it seems. Her own father was the shaman of their tribe, but he and her mother were killed during an attack on their tribe. Koriba was away gathering herbs when the attack happened.”

“But she is in our tribe now? Is that not the case?”

“Yes. Her tribe was more or less wiped out, and she found her way to our tribe some time back. She has been living here for some time, but men were showing no interest in her, as she is as tall as Dramala ... and you know the troubles Dramala had.”

“Ah, yes, I remember. So why was she growing this plant in the forest?”

“She knew about it from helping her father, so she thought if she could produce a supply of the Korobo plant, she would have an ‘in’ with our shaman and perhaps become his helper.”

Numa was unsure where this was going.

“Eh?” she remarked.

“She thought at first that John was our tribe’s shaman, then that we didn’t have a shaman, and now she knows that Cormoro is our shaman. We told her that, and that she might be able to become his apprentice, then...” Jean trailed off.

Numa was quick to spot there was more.

“And?”

“I did say how tall she was and as I recalled how tall Dramala is – one of Cormoro’s wives, I may have suggested that her height would not be a hindrance to Cormoro, if he was interested in a third wife.”

Chief Numa burst into laughter.

“Jean, you have excelled yourself! You found a solution to the problem, then a possible apprentice for Cormoro, and a husband for the woman as well! Damn good thinking, my Mediator!”

John added, “We made a point of telling Dramata and Dramala about the woman as a possible mate, so they could meet her, and I told Cormoro about her as a possible apprentice. He was not enthusiastic about taking on an apprentice, but I think he will change his mind once he realises he is going to have access to a means of seeing visions in a shamanic trance. Once he meets her, he may also see her as a potential mate for his family as well. We haven’t got a definite in the marriage option, but I think she will persuade him, just by being nearby so much. His other wives will also have an influence on his actions.”

“Whatever. You have both done well. I like it when my plans come to fruition, and my mediator earns her title.”

She leaned forward to John, and he provided the asked-for kiss. Jean came and kissed Numa on the cheek, and Numa asked her, “Could you fetch Geraldo for me, Jean? It is about time I fed him again. He seems to be growing fast, the greedy little thing. He must be going to take after his father, and be a big man when he grows up. I will be so proud of him!”

Jean recognised that Numa was still tired at times, and gladly set off to fetch the baby. Numa told John, “Put a little bit of pressure on Cormoro, darling. He needs to recognise he has to marry her, and I will be happier if I didn’t have a loose woman moping around unsatisfied. I don’t want you having to make her satisfied; you have enough to work with for now.”

“Ah, yes. I see. I will do as you say, my love. I think I will tell him that she is too good a filly to be left uncoralled, and that marrying her will be the best solution for his need to keep her by him in the trade. I have no intention of getting involved with her. That is Cormoro’s job. Hey, I wonder if he is going to try that Koribo snuff and see if he can get a new vision? He has been a failure in that way recently.”

John set about his Cormoro task with a will, and found him sitting with his wives, where they were bending his ear. He glanced at John arriving, with relief over his face.

“Hello, High Chief. Did you want me for something?” he said, desperately, and John smiled.

John explained, “I was thinking about your visions, or rather your lack of them recently. Koriba was telling me that other shamans make use of this Koribo plant for visions. She said they have to roast the leaves, shred them finely, and make a sort of snuff. Sniffing up the snuff apparently gives the Shaman visions, so that might help you to see into the future once more.”

“Oh, yes. Koriba did say a bit about the plant. She said she was growing a bunch of them out in the forest.”

“It looks like Koriba is a keeper, in that case; not just as an apprentice, but as one of your women too.”

Cormoro darted a glance at his wives, who were hanging on to every word. He saw them extend their smiles at the thought of another woman in the family, and Dramala told him, “You know what it is like if you are a woman as tall as me: Men are not interested. It was worse for me with my deafness, but I had my sister to care for me. Poor Koriba was all on her own, so if she is going to be your apprentice, she might as well join our family as another wife. That will also cure her of embarassment over her height, as well as let her have a man to fuck at last.”

John jumped in. “Hey, that is a great idea, Dramala! Yes, Cormoro, ask her to marry you. She can always say no, if she thinks you are such a terrible husband.”

The two women burst into laughter.

“He is such a terrible husband, we both want him to fuck us every day, and get us with child as soon as possible.”

Cormoro blushed in John’s presence, but John was unfazed.

“No excuses about numbers, Cormoro. If I can keep my large collection of women satisfied, you ought to be able to cope with three.”

Cormoro admitted that he had a deal with Koriba, and confessed the details.

“She says she will take on being my apprentice, then perhaps a fucking friend, and if all went well, become a wife.”

John exclaimed, “There! You are halfway to the final solution, Cormoro. Get your ladies to persuade her to make a quick move to the fucking friend stge, and if she is happy with that, get the marriage done and she can participate fully in your family. Don’t waste time.”

“Uhh ... I suppose so...”

He was still blushing. Dramata berated him, “No need to blush, my man. You’re good at the fucking now. If she is untouched, as I expect she is from what I heard, you are now trained well enough to start her education in the arts of love.”

John commented from the sidelines, “I think I am not needed here any more. You ladies seem

to have everything sorted, Time for me to go!”

He sidled off to go back to Numa, having remembered he needed to ask about the secondary campsite for the tribe. He found her happily breastfeeding their son, seated comfortably on her Chief’s throne. He finally noticed that she had a cushion under her, and a lightbulb lit up inside his head. She was still healing after the birth, and the cushion was to make her soreness easier to thole.

“Numa my love? Can you give me an update on the new site for the tribe?”

“Oh, yes, you haven’t seen the sites yet? We keep meaning to show you. We have two possibles, with one as a preferred option. Each is a reasonable distance from here, but close enough to get to and from fairly quickly.”

“Sounds good, and I want to look at them, but I have been thinking that as the tribe keeps collecting more members, perhaps we should take on both sites as expansion outlets. What do you think about that possibility?”

“I was certainly aware that eventually we would expand farther, but I was anticipating it would be as our next generation grew up. You think it is wise to look so far ahead and make a start?”

“Making a start is a good description. We can make a layout for more huts, but there is no need to build them all immediately. We can provide the lanes between rows of huts, or where we expect huts to be over the years, and space the hut sites to allow room for a family garden plot behind the hut. It is an idea called town planning, or in this case village planning.”

Numa’s eyes widened.

“That would mean us having three camps for the one tribe.” She thought for a moment, then went on, “Would that not mean becoming three tribes, John?”

“There is no need for that, as long as there is good regular communication between the sites. You would remain as tribal Chief, but you could appoint sub-chiefs at each site to deal with minor questions at those sites. It would be the more important matters that would come to you for a decision. Think of it like me as High Chief over all our tribes. You would be the High Chief over your three campsites. As our population grows, we have to have a structure of control, for administration of our tribes and their assets. Maranga should perhaps be thinking in the same way; split her tribe in two, instead of moving the whole Farfarers tribe to her new site.”

Numa frowned. “Would they both be known as the Farfarers? That might cause confusion about where a person’s hut is sited, if you just said ‘in the Farfarers tribe”.

John suggested, “Why not make up names for each location? For example, if they had two sites, one could become known as Oldfarer and the second as Newfarer. Like the concept?”

Numa’s eyes lit up. “And we could call ours Oldcave, and the others ... mmm ... Newone and Newtwo. Would that seem sensible?”

“It would. Back in my old country there were plenty of locations known as Newton, which simply was short for New Ton (or town). The word ton in my language originally meant a small settlement of a few houses, and as places got bigger it changed to be the word town, and that usually means a place with a lot of houses – you could think of them as large huts.”

“Great! We’ll use these names then; but you still have to go out and look them over, to see if you approve, my husband.”

“I’ll do that tomorrow, when I have more time. I’d love to cuddle up with you, my lovely Numa.”

“You know it is too early for fucking me, John?”

“Yes, my love; that is why I said cuddling, just so you know I love you dearly.”

That was just what she wanted to hear, and she spent the night with him, just getting up a couple of times to breastfeed Geraldo.

In the morning Numa delegated Raka to show John round the two new campsites. She was confident that Raka was still fit and healthy enough to do that despite her advancing pregnancy. They were soon on their way, and John asked, “How were the sites selected? I gave some parameters, but every location is different.”

“We worked from the most important – water. We tried to find streams that went downhill, not too fast and not too slow. Next, we looked for sites beside the water; sites that were less wooded and fairly level for our huts to be laid out, and large enough for an entire village to be built eventually.”

John asked, “With ground with deep enough soil to dig latrines on the lower side of the camp?”

“Yes. Both sites fit all these needs, with the first site’s latrines having to be placed a distance below the camp; but there may be variations on which side of the camp will get sunshine, and how much will get shelter from winds and rain.”

John suggested, “Another factor is the availability of good ground for growing food plants.”

Raka agreed. “We thought of that as well, for it is the women who gather most of the forest food, and if they can grow much of it nearby, that will make gathering ingredients for meals simpler. We will use a nearby area to cut down trees and make the garden there”

John warned, “But it also needs much more effort to dig over the soil before planting after removing tree roots, and to keep the weeds from taking over your growing plot.”

“Oh. I had not considered that extra workload. Will it be worth doing?”

“The first time is hard work, but by keeping the weeds down, digging it over the next year will be much easier. The first year of a new plot of ground is the most productive in crops.”

They arrived at the site, and John examined it with a critical eye. Raka apologetically admitted that there were a few small trees scattered over the site that would have to be removed before the village was constructed, but John had his own idea.

“You see that very large tree near the top of the site?”

“Yes. I knew you were going to bitch about how hard it would be to take down.”

“No. I don’t want you to have it taken down. It can be a feature of the camp, and if I can rig up a rope ladder or other means, we can make a viewpoint up near the top. That will let your scout or some such person see what is happening in all directions from here, such as a forest fire.”

“Fire? You expect the forest to go on fire, John?”

“No, I don’t. The presence of plenty of large trees and a luxuriant under-canopy suggest that fire is not a problem here. The climate – what we used to call rainforest - is too damp for fires to survive for long, even if they get started by lightning. It can happen though, if there is a summer drought – when the rains fail to come and the forest becomes very dry; but that seldom occurs here.”

“Good. I hate the idea of a big fire in the forest.” Raka shuddered at the thought.

“Now,” John said, “This clearing must be like this for an underlying reason, and none of the normal causes such as fires or insect infestations appear to be evident, so I want to check the soil depth.”

He got himself a fairly straight stick, and sharpened the point. Next he forced it into the ground. It went in about two hands depth, then stopped. He marked the stick with the depth mark, and began doing the same at various spots over a wide area. The stick went in to almost same depth, no matter where he prodded.

“That explains it. We must have a slab of sedimentary rock just below the surface, covered by a layer of soil. The soil is probably held together by the roots of that tall tree, spread over the whole area. That is why these little trees are not doing well: they are starved of nutrients between the roots and the stone. They should be easy to pull out. At least the stone slab should make a strong base for the village huts. It might be possible to break through the slab with metal implements, and that would help the plants. It depends on how thick the slab it. We’ll need to test it somewhere.

I think this is enough for today at this spot.

Anyway, what about the other site? What is it like, compared to this one? The requirements are the same, so what is different in it, to what is found here?”

Raka gave as her opinion, “Hmm ... let me see. We couldn’t find a natural clearing with a stream nearby, but we followed a stream that looked likely. We found an area that was levelled off somewhat, such that I could envisage it as a village site. The ground on that almost level site has deeper soil than here, so I think there must be a vertical line of rock lower down, running along the side of the slope; rock that stopped the soil getting washed away, so it has built up as a ledge.

Unfortunately that also made it good ground for trees and bushes, so the site is covered in bushes and thin trees. So many trees are growing there that none had a chance to grow tall on their own, so they have produced a clearing full of tall thin trees. To my mind, if they were cut down they could be useful as uprights for huts or a fence like you built near the cave for holding in the animals.”

“Clever thought, Raka. Will the trees be easy to cut down with axes or handsaws, or do we need to use the chainsaw on them?”

Raka considered that, coming up with, “There are large numbers of these trees there. The chainsaw would be best, as it is quick, and you could have people ready to drag the trees aside as soon as they fell. The helpers could cut off the side and top branches, swiftly making them ready for use, depending on how tall the trunks are.”

“Sounds fine. I can use the chainsaw, if you tell me when it will be needed. In the meantime, what else, if anything, do we need to decide about this site?”

“We should look at the stream. It runs down the slope a little further over; not through the proposed campsite. If it did, it would have washed away most of the soil over the years. There is another line of rock that runs down the side of the hill instead to across it, and the stream is on the far side. I don’t know why it should be so.”

John explained, “It must be a volcanic dike. They often run at right angles to each other; that is, that one may run alongside the hill, and the other straight down the hill.”

“Oh. So that is what you mean by right angles?”

“Yes. It is simple geometry: a system of measuring,” he expounded. “Nothing to concern yourself with for now. There must have been a volcano here so long ago that it is long dead. The dikes are where liquid volcanic rock oozed up to the surface. Where the two dikes meet at the surface, there will probably be a small pond of water. That could be handy when it is the dry season.”

“I see. What I wanted to ask you was, could be cut a channel through the rock to bring the water closer to the camp, but I now know that it would allow the stream to wash away our soil during the wet season.”

“You are on the ball there, Raka, but volcanic rock is usually very hard to cut through. Best to leave it alone. If you want a pool of water close to the camp, build a small dam against the dike, using rocks and a mixture of sand and clay. If you make it thick and strong, it should hold the water, and you just give it a new channel above the height of the water in the dam, so there is a steady flow through in and then out of the pool. That will keep the water fresh and clear for drinking and cooking. BUT,” he emphasised, “no-one should use the stream for peeing in or washing or such, except below the dam.”

Raka nodded wisely.

“Ah, yes; keeping the clean water and dirty water away from each other.”

“Yes. The clean water always at the higher level; the dirty water at the lower level.”

“Got you. It is very simple, once you think about it. I am surprised no-one thought about it before.”

“Probably because no-one linked the water being fouled with the arrival of diseases. That reminds me; if you find any dead animal in or near the stream, try to remove it well clear of the water, or the dead animal will release its diseases into the stream. It is for a similar reason that it is best to boil water before drinking it. That kills off nasty bugs, too small to see, that are in the water, before they can get into your body. For those of us who have absorbed our healing magic, that won’t matter, but new members of the tribe won’t have been exposed to our healing magic at first.”

“Your advice has been noted and absorbed, my husband.”

“No need to be so formal, darling Raka. You are my wife, but also soon to have my baby, so keep the formality for official occasions, dear.”

“In that case, you can fuck me here and now, for I am still horny despite our baby growing in me.”

John was struck by her words, and asked, “Where did you pick up the word ‘horny’, Raka? That comes from my home language.”

“Horny? Vickie used it one day, and she told me it meant feeling that you want sex. Was that wrong?”

“No. It was quite right. It originally was a male word, because ‘horny’ is one of the words for having an erect penis, but women later adopted it to indicate a desire on their part for sex. You want sex, then?”

Raka nodded enthusiastically, and John obliged her. He stripped off his clothing as she did the same, and he scanned for a suitable spot to make love on. A dry patch of grassy turf grabbed his attention, alowing him to lay her on the soft surface, enter her damp vagina, and pound her with gusto, taking care to keep his weight off her very pregnant belly. She gasped her pleasure as she hit an orgasm, and John did his best to keep going to duplicate this efffect without coming himself too early. Raka was always able to repeat her orgasms without much effort. It was as if she could churn them out as long as John could keep her on that edge where she tipped over from time to time.

John was forced to let himself jet up into her at last, but that terminated his ability to continue. Men were unable to match women in achieving multiple orgasms, and had to have a recovery period before getting erect again.

He apologised to Raka, but she brushed off his apology, for she knew enough to be aware of his male limitations.

“It is all right, my love. You have done enough for now; thank you. Thank you also for not pressing down on our baby.”

“I would never do that, Raka. Harm a child of mine? Never!”

As they spoke, there came a snorting sound, and John hurriedly clambered to his feet, searching for a weapon.

Near the tall tree, a boar was rooting around, searching for truffles or some similar delicacy, but had been distracted by the sound of the rutting humans at the other side of the clearing. It lifted its snout and peered in their direction. It’s eyesight was poor, but it had a good sense of smell, for the members of the herd identified each other by smell. Human smells were a sign of danger, so it was trying to decide whether to charge at these alien beings or run away to protect his herd. The social instinct of the herd won out as their was no direct threat, and he turned to run back towards where his nose told him the herd was browsing. His offspring were still with their mothers, so his paternal pressure persuaded him to stay back to protect them.

John was glad to see the dark and hairy male porker vanish into the trees. Raka jerked back in fright.

“Peccaries, John! These beasts can hurt you if the herd comes at you. They can be fearsome!”

“Peccaries? Is that what they are? I thought they were small pigs. I have heard of peccaries, Raka. I don’t fancy having to fight them.” He looked for his weapons and restored them to his person as soon as he was dressed. Checking that Raka was also fully clothed, they retired from the clearing and headed back to the cave.

John had decided that he would take the chainsaw to the other site and make a start on felling the timber there. What he was not sure about was how to remove all the tree stumps and roots that would remain in the ground. Manual effort using a mattock was probably best, if such a tool was in the store-room.

Once again he would need a bunch of batteries to switch over as each one was run down by all the cutting, so he needed a bi-cycle and trailer to take the weight of the saw and batteries. That reminded him of the mahogany trees he had recently cut down at the coast. He wondered if the Northerners had put in an appearance to collect them, and whether they wanted more before long.

Arriving back at the cave, John explained to Chief Numa that he proposed to take the chainsaw to the other campsite for clearing trees, using a bike and trailer to take the load.

“You’ll be lucky, John! We traded our last bi-cycle to a trader this morning. He is going to bring us several loads of pottery cooking vessels in return. Vickie says they will be far better than our usual gourds for that purpose.”

“Yes, she is right about that. I hadn’t known some tribes were making pottery at this time. When he brings them, check to see if they are glazed.”

“Glazed? What does that mean?”

“A sort of shiny finish to the surfaces, inside and out. It makes it easier for taking things out of the pot, stops some of the liquid being absorbed by the pot, and prevents the leftovers from one meal contaminating the next, especially if it is a completely different meal – fish then meat, for example.”

“How do they put the glaze on, then?”

“It is a slurry – a liquid mix of stuff that coats the outside before the pots are fired. I don’t know what glaze they would use. I think it varies according to the colour you want to finish with.”

“Well, we will ask, and see what he comes up with. Are you happy with the first site?”

“Yes, apart from the appearance of a peccary. We’lll have to put a small fence round the clearing to deter them from entering. I thought they were pigs, at first.”

“What are pigs, John? I have not heard this word.”

“It is better if I can show you. Have Vickie, Sheila or Jean got an encyclopaedia out of the library?”

“No idea. Go ask them yourself.”

John did as she said, and asked them about an encyclopaedia or a farming book.

Jean admitted, “I have a farming book out, John. I wanted to find what we might be able to do here apart from a little gardening.”

“Great! Is there is picture or a drawing of a pig in the book?”

“You’ll need to look for yourself, John. I wasn’t thinking of animal husbandry.”

She fetched the book and handed it to him. He skimmed through it and found a good picture, then used the index to find text about pigs.

“Damn!” he cursed. “It doesn’t say anything about where they started from in the world. Do any of you girls know where pigs come from?”

Jean and Vickie both shook their heads, indicating the negative, but Sheila said slowly, “I seem to remember seeing a mention of the pig being of Eurasian origin. The mention was in connection with them digging up the turf, almost like a plough.”

“So you think they are not native to the Americas?” John queried.

“I am pretty sure of that, dear.”

“Fine. That means what I killed some time back was a peccary; not a pig. I was surprised at the animal’s dark colour and hairiness, but pigs come in all shades from pink to black, so I just assumed it was a variety I didn’t recognise; but it must really have been a peccary. They do have a similarity to the pig, so probably fill the same niche in the local ecology.”

“Sheila, will you ladies from my homeland remind me, when I need to be reminded, that we are not in the same world we used to live in, and that what looks like something from home is not necessarily the same thing?”

“Raka, you can do something similar. When I seem to think I know an object, and animal, or anything such like, and you have doubts about my assumption, ask me if I really know what I think I know? That may sound convoluted but just humour me. Tell me that I may be wrong in my assumptions!”

Raka thought the words through, and responded, “When you appear to get something wrong, I will advise you of my doubts, and you, my husband, will do a rethink! After that, I will get you to fuck me the way I like it. Deal?”

“Deal. I like it when my wives love me as much as I love them.”

Raka promised him that another bi-cycle and trailer would be built within two days, for parts were already made for some sections and others were in the process of being created.

“It is like all the rest of our products. There is a continuous movement of construction of soaps, moccasins, and bi-cycles. Soap has a stutter when we run short of one of the ingredients, but the footwear has to wait for the drawing of the customer’s feet before we can get started. It is only the footwear for children that works well: we have a few standard sizes that they can select from, for children’s feet keep changing shape and size as they grow.”

Talking of products, has there been any sign of the trader who is bring us copper ore?”

“No. It is too early. From his words, I think he will only be at his destination around now, so it will be a few more days before he can get back here.”