Chapter 6

‘I can tell you, humans start off at birth with a body that is developing and learning for the first few years of life, peaking at around the age of 25 years, then staying at that approximate level for the mid years, slowly decreasing in efficiency, before finally deteriorating more quickly but at a variable rate until the human system fails in one of several ways, usually ending with the heart stopping or the brain failing to cope with some kind of collapse. That causes death of the body. Does that help you?’

‘It does. Our initial information did not include these facts, so we will incorporate that data into our task-base. Please note that for any human we are within, who is not at the deterioration phase, should be able to be helped to remain at that level or better for many years to come. We aim for that target. For any human who has ceased to function as a human – the word you used is died - there is nothing we can do to bring them back to a functioning existence. They remain dead.’

“Oh,” John said aloud, not realising he did so. “Poor Mabana.”

Ashoka turned round, and commented, “Yes. It is just getting through to you now, High Chief? We have lost a shaman and a friend.”

“Quite so, Ashoka. I am not used to losing friends to death. It is a hard loss to bear.”

“Do you want to take a break, High Chief?”

“No, I can cope on the way. Letting my mind grieve while we move is a help, but we must also keep our eyes and ears open for dangers.”

“I am doing that, High Chief; not letting up for a moment, even as we talk of Mabana.”

John switched topics. “Tell me, Ashoka, why do you and Mabana have names that end in -a? In most other tribes, men’s names end in -o and female names end in -a.”

“No idea, High Chief, just that the choice of ending is traditionally up to the parents in the fisher communities. Mabana’s parents chose Mabana; and my parents chose Ashoka. Fresno and Balto have names with -o endings as selected by their parents. You might as well ask why inland tribes choose to stick with a single ending for all male and female names.”

“Quite so. It all goes back to tradition, does it not? My homeland had no such standard endings, except that sometimes a father who hoped for a son will name his daughter with a boy’s name, but end it with -ina, such as Williamina and Georgina. To me it was a stupid affectation that reflected badly on the father’s excessive expectation of a son.”

“Yes, High Chief. I have heard neither of these names in any tribe I have been at. What about these Invader army men; how were they named?”

“Most of those whose names I heard as leaders ended in -o, but a few ended otherwise, with no apparent consistency. Perhaps the leaders belonged to tribes that used the -o names for males, and the ordinary fighters came for tribes who had no special tradition that way. It was apparent that the leaders and the troops were of different social strata to their men. You could see that in the callous way their treated their men. It was one of the reasons that army had so many desertions.”

“Oh? I was not aware of that, the fact that the leaders treated their men badly. Why would they do that, as it seems a stupid attitude to take?”

“Once again, tradition. They had been brought up to believe they and their kind were superior people and therefore that it was all right to abuse their men. I have never seen any logic behind this, yet it is a common thread in history, this idea of superiority over other peoples. My own former country behaved that way for a long time until the people objected to such behaviour. Our military improved in its abilities after they had learned that lesson, with the senior officers being the last to conform.”

“Officers, High Chief? What are these?”

“Just a descriptive word, Ashoka. A word which means a military man who is charge of a group of ordinary soldiers. A senior officer is like a Chief of military men. You can get more and more of these chiefs in a hierarchy, a series of levels, with each officer being a in charge of a group below him. The more officers you have in an army, the more unwieldy the army becomes and less effective as well; but also if you have too few officers, messages fail to get passed on quickly enough and the army again does not perform well. Getting an army that will work well is not easy, Ashoka. A small group acting independently is often better at getting a specific job done. Think of the effect of a lever: a small movement at one end can make a larger movement at the other end, depending on where the lever is pivoted. That small group’s action can have a much larger effect on the enemy army than its actual impact. Sometimes the impact falls greater on the officers who have to run their army. If the action makes them feel that their plans will go wrong, they revise these plans to take into account the new information that the event has apparently given them.”

“You say, apparently, High Chief. Why?”

“Because what happens in an action, and what appears to have happened at that action, can be two different things.”

“Eh? How can that be? Surely what happens is clear?”

“Clear is a word which means everything can be seen, but what if some is not seen? If it is night, and a mass of flaming arrows rains down on your tents and cause havoc, and when you sort things out and go looking for whoever fired the arrows, and you fail to find anyone, what conclusion can you draw?”

“Uh ... that whoever fired the arrows knows more than you do. They know where you are camped, they came prepared to attack you, and they have got away again without you finding out who they are. That is frightening, High Chief!”

“Exactly. The action has made your army afraid, for if the unseen enemy can do it once, it can do it again, anywhere! What will be the result as the officers see it, Ashoka?”

“Eh, they will want to make better protections for their camps, and do more to watch for the attackers coming in future.”

“That is what they will do, even if no more attacks come; they have to, just in case. But there is another effect: the officers will want to meet and revise their plans. The time taken to do that is not time available for the army to move and do more things that an army does. They will also suspect that someone has told the attackers about the camps. It could be anyone. It might be a soldier who talks too much when he visits a local tribe. It might be an officer who is too free with his information around his soldiers, leading to that loose talk. It might be a spy in their ranks who gathers information and passes it on to the enemy. It will result in everyone suspecting everyone else about passing on information. That is not good for the soldiers’ morale.”

“Great Earth Mother! You think all this can happen from a small group making a small attack in the dark?”

“Indeed. This is called asymmetric warfare, where unorthodox tactics result in unexpected achievements harming the larger force.”

“Uh, High Chief? We really ought to speed up instead of chatting like this. Sorry to mention it.”

“No, you are right, Ashoka. I muse too much at times. Lead on, young warrior. Listen and learn from others with wisdom every day, if you can.”

Their trek to the coast brought them into the outskirts of the fisher village, with the youngsters watching for visitors and yelling when they spotted Ashoka leading the High Chief. The children danced around the pair, while the eldest boy sent the fastest runner ahead to warn the villagers of the arrival of the pair.

The headman was waiting as Ashoka and John got to the village. He stretched out his hand in the new welcoming sign taught by the white leader, but did not smile. Ashoka slid away and hurried to his family home.

“A sad day, High Chief,” the Headman greeted John. John was similarly sad of visage.

“It is that, my friend. How goes it otherwise for the village?”

“As always, friend John. We fish, we catch, we trade, and we live our lives as best we can. The men on the big ship have not returned yet,” he added.

“Too early for that,” John agreed. “The winds determine your pace at sea, as you know; it is thus no matter what size your vessel happens to be, and the distance they have to travel is vast.”

“Yes. The angle of the winds are also a major factor in how your ship proceeds. That affects us even so close to the shore. We have to beware of being forced onto the rocks if we are not observant of the winds.”

These preliminaries over, John leaned forward to give the headman a short hug, and both smiled, friend to friend.

John commented, “We are forced to discuss Mabana now?”

“We are. He is a great loss, both for his wisdom and his practical advice. It will not be easy to replace him. I presume you are here to collect his wives and children, as well as see him pass to the Great Mother?”

“Indeed. First things first, of course. What funeral arrangements are required? I as a shaman am prepared to perform whichever ritual is normal for your tribe. I do not know the words used, but if you instruct me, I will learn them in time for the ceremony. Is the procedure internment on land, deposited at sea, or cremated in a funeral pyre?”

The headman looked serious again, and described it.

“We have built a funeral pyre on the beach close to the sea but above high tide mark. Mabana will rest on top, and I will be the one who lights the fire. It must burn until the morning, so that the entire body is gone into the sky and above the sea. The ashes of wood and body have to be gathered and scattered on the waves, so that the memory of Mabana will persist in the sea for all time.”

“That sounds a marvellous ceremony, my friend. When do each of us speak, and what words are required?”

“We both say our pieces before the fire is lit, as the sounds of burning logs would drown later speeches.”

“Very sensible. Can we go to your abode where I can learn my words at your feet, teacher?”

The headman was pleased at the High Chief calling him teacher, and referring to sitting at his feet as a child to his teacher. It was a special honour from the High Chief, but he corrected him on the form of words to be spoken.

“Shaman John, the words you speak are not a standard ritual, but words of respect for a shaman who served his community well. They should come from the heart, not just from the mouth. I am willing to hear you practice your words, once the Great Mother has granted them to you.”

John took this as good guidance, and began thinking of what he should say. Once he had the words he sought, he would remember them, repeat them for the headman until he was word perfect, and avoid stumbling over words at the ceremony.

Before going to visit at the headman’s hut, John asked to visit Mabana’s family, and this request was granted immediately. He was directed to the place where they were, stood at the door and intoned solemnly, “High Chief John begs to enter the abode of Shaman Mabana’s family.”

There was a slight pause until his voice was recognised, and then both widows were rapidly at the door, tear-stained but smiling at his dutiful arrival. Salla led off, “Welcome, High Chief John!” then Tula added, “Please come in, Shaman.”

The minute he was inside, both women were hugging and kissing him, to the surprise of Salla’s children from her first marriage. John noticed how large both women were in the belly, and commented, “Mabana’s women are preparing to birth Mabana’s babies?”

Both of them smiled that secret smile of knowledge, and nodded.

“Mabana’s legacy, Chief John,” said Salla, always the spokeswoman, being the elder wife.

John agreed, “Mabana’s legacy, dear ladies. Are you due shortly, or will you be able to travel? I have the full responsibility for Mabana’s family now, and I will be taking you to Numa’s tribe where I normally reside and where you will be received with open arms and great honour.”

Salla carefully patted her own belly and then that of Tula. “We are not expecting the babies to arrive imminently, so we will be able to travel. We have a collection of objects and items of value to us that we wish to take with us. Can we include a person willing to carry the goods for us on the trip?”

“Of course, if that is your desire, ladies. I am honoured in being invited to participate in Mabana’s sending off to the Great Mother. Will all the family be present to watch, or will your younger children be too young for that, Salla?”

She replied, indignant, “ALL my children will be there. They will honourably acknowledge Mabana as their loving father, and see that he is given the honour due to him as Shaman.”

John raised up his palms in mock defence. “I was only asking, Salla. Children should be brought up correctly, and you are obviously keen on the right observances. That is good and worthy of a dutiful wife.”

She explained,”Once the pyre has died down sufficiently, I will take the children home to sleep, then return here to join you in your all-night vigil. My eldest might come as well.”

“I will leave such motherly decisions to you, Salla. Tula, will you go with her, or remain with me on the vigil?”

“If it is acceptable to you, High Chief, I will go along with Salla. These children look upon me as a second mother and I wish to reinforce that view. They need to also view my baby and Salla’s baby as their own brothers or sisters”

“Very well; do that. I will concentrate on my shaman duties this night. Tomorrow we will discuss the move to Numa’s tribe.”

John returned to the headman’s home to review the man’s preparations and John’s own. His planned speech was not long, but meant a lot to the village community. He wanted to hone the words to offer a worthy tribute to the old man.

As the afternoon drew to a close, and the community gathered at the shallow beach for the the fiery departure of their shaman, The headman pointed out where he and John would stand in view of the whole community. John checked that Mabana’s family were given a place of honour as well.

As the dusk began to gather, the headman began the ceremony, facing the carefully stacked wooden bier with the wrapped body of Mabana laid atop it, flanked by logs secured at top and bottom and both sides of his body, to restrict corpse movement while the body burned.

“My friends, it is my sad duty as your headman to pay tribute to our honoured Shaman Mabana. It is a tribute I had hoped not to have to make for many years, but the call of the Earth Mother is unpredictable. She has chosen Mabana to now be by her side in her task of looking after us as individuals and as a people. Her decision is to be respected, sad though it makes us in our loss.

I now invite High Chief John, a respected tribal leader in our area and also a noted Shaman, to speak on the loss of our Shaman. High Chief, if you will...”

John stepped forward and tried to appear taller as he began to speak.

“Friends, we are gathered to say farewell to an old friend of many, a new friend of some, and always a friend of the village. As a fellow practitioner, I can tell you that he was a much respected shaman, a man of wisdom and ability, a man of shamanic talent who acted as an ever-open door to be a link between his people and the Earth Mother. That door was long open, but now Mabana goes to join the Earth Mother in looking over us with compassion and kindness. We say goodbye to a man whom you loved; there is no honour greater than that. I also loved him and promised to take care of his family should anything happen to him. Unfortunately, that unexpectedly happened, so I will be taking Salla, Tula and the children home with me to be under my protection and care. Mabana’s family deserves to be protected and loved, and that is what he wanted, so it will be so. Goodbye, Mabana my friend.”

John bowed his head in reverence, and surprisingly, most of the community did the same.

At this point, and without looking, the headman stretched out a hand to his right, and a man placed a burning torch into the headman’s grip. With the torch, he stepped over to the bier and applied the flames to the left end, the middle, and to the right end, starting the flames at all three spots. There must have been something like oil placed there in advance, for the flames ran swiftly right and left, and within a short time the whole pyre was alight.