Chapter 1

"--day 1--"

I woke up cold and naked on a rock shelf. I could feel the air moving over my body, making my body hair stand up. It was quite dark yet I could barely make out a rough outline of a doorway or passage off towards my left, or above my head as I lay. I heard the sound of flowing water in the other direction. A woman's voice spoke out of the darkness.

"Your old life is over and your new life has begun. You will find yourself young, healthy and unimpaired. You have been judged and found to be less despicable than most despite many mistakes made early in your previous life. I will be watching you and the others that you shall meet. We shall meet in your dreams when I have anything of import for you. A small cache of gifts will be left for you to help you survive."

"May I ask what I should call you?"

"You may call me--Mother. Above all my commands to you is to use your mind."

With that I felt the air stir, then felt a brief, sharp earthquake. A crack opened high in the far wall of what revealed itself to be a long, low cave with an irregular floor. As I swung my legs down off of the rock shelf in the wall I had been lying on I saw a small pile of things on what looked like a piece of dark canvas. I reached down to find a small sack containing a flint and steel, a simple fixed-blade knife, a wood cup, a heavy iron pot with a bail that would fit both my fists, an enormous hank of black nylon cord and a piece of heavy canvas approximately six feet wide and twenty feet long. A hole in the center told me it would make a wonderful poncho. I put it on, folding up the excess at my front and back, then tying it around my waist using a piece of the cord which I cut from the hank. I used two more pieces to tie the fire bag and the knife around my neck. Another piece of canvas lay at the bottom of where the pile was. It was roughly eight feet wide and eight feet tall. I had no idea what it was intended for. A door? A blanket? I folded it in half and lay it on the sleeping shelf. to keep it out of the way.

I decided to explore my new home. I kept my right hand in touch with the wall as I walked the periphery of the cave, exploring and observing as I went. I tried to look up as well as down as I walked. Soon I came to a break in the wall where a small rivulet of water poured along the edge of the floor for a couple yards, then dissapeared through a wide crack in the wall. It was large enough to accomodate my body but it was pitch dark. I didn't want to walk into an open void. I was certain that Mother would be dissapointed with a "fool's mate", in chess terms. I found fourteen more 'shelves' of various sizes cut into the rock walls. In two places the shelves were just over my head high. I suppose in hindsight that it was foolish but I reached up to feel the surface of each small shelf and found a small depression in each.

I smiled to myself. Grease lamps! I had two perfectly placed lamps already made. All I needed was fat and some twisted vegetable matter. And fire, of course. I'd have to find some lightning-struck vegetation to get some charred material or my firestarting attempts would be dismal at best.

I continued around the cave until I reached the entrance. It was narrow, and doubled back until I came out about four feet above ground level. The cave opening was in the face of an overgrown cliff. I could hear frogs so a wetland had to be close. I again followed along the cliff with my right hand, watching for anything I could eat or use as well as watching out for anything I should not step on or in. As I came around an outcrop I almost peed myself when I spotted the bear. I quickly realized that it wasn't dangerous, but a marvellous find. When the earthquake occured it dropped a fairly large tree. The tree swatted a foraging black bear into its next life, leaving me the windfall of its fur, meat and organs. It had been digging up wild potatoes, which would be another windfall for me. The bear's head had been crushed by the falling tree. I stripped off the hide as quickly as I could, rolled it up and carried it into the cave to work on later. I wanted to strip out the tenderloins and as much fat as I could. I found a rock with a primitive edge and used it to crack loose the ribs on one side, next to the spine. That allowed me access to the inside of the bear's thorax. I knew that the tenderloins ran to either side of the spine, and the leaf lard lay around the kidneys, near the center of the body, close to the back I had nothing to haul the game in so I quickly cut the bottom three feet from the front of my poncho, doubled it over to a three-foot by three-foot square, punched small holes in both layers with my knife and strung cord through the two side seams. Upon turning it inside-out I had a fairly functional carry bag. In went the fat, then the meat. I scampered away with my find before any predators came to investigate the smell of blood.

I rinsed off both myself and my poncho in the water flow in the cave. It was cold! I had a taste and smiled. It was sweet, not unduly mineral-laden. I was losing my light. The sun was setting and I hadn't made a fire yet. I quickly tied the bear's tenderloins to a cord, then tied the rest to the nearly-full bag of un-rendered lard. The tenerloins went into the flowing water to keep cool while the bag acted as an anchor to keep the contraption from floating away into the depths of the mountain.

I thought to myself as I lay on my pallet, waiting for sleep. I had to get a fire started, somehow, and begin the never-ending process of gathering firewood. I needed to eat. A day or so without wouldn't hurt me but any longer and I would weaken. I needed a weapon--at a bare minimum something to fend off an irate animal. I needed a door to dissuade univited guests. I would soon have to explore and inventory the area around my cave. The sound of the frogs reassured me that a bounteous food and tuber supply was close. I could easily make a throwing stick, and the materials for a bola were at hand. I was hoping to find a chalk cliff. That usually meant chert deposits from which I could form scrapers and axes. Baked chalk would give me quicklime with which I could restrict my doorway. Just before I dozed off I thought to myself; "Thank you Mother, for another chance. Your gifts are truly appreciated..."

"--day 2--"

I woke as grey light first came in through my 'skylight'. I rose, washed my face, peed, dressed and went out to greet the day. I gingerly checked on the site where the bear had met its end. There wasn't much left. I turned around and went in the opposite direction so as not to startle any remaining diners. They no doubt had better personal defenses than I did. It didn't seem wise to test that theory. I carried my knife, fire kit and cord. I walked towards the sound of the frogs. It wasn't far--perhaps a quarter mile or a bit more. I was right in supposing that it was a wetlands--it was a cattail and lilly-bed swamp. It was bordered by a small woods floored by green sphagum moss. Now a sphagum moss swamp is dangerous. The stuff compresses underfoot up to several feet and can easily hide broken off tree limbs that can skewer you at your next step. However, I knew that I would visit this place many times to take armfuls back to the cave. When dried it burned wonderfully and would make for comfortable stuffed hides. I was searching for a lightning-hit tree. I blazed my path with double horizontal cuts six feet up. As I walked I checked to see if I could still see the previous blaze. When I couldn't I traced back my steps until I could see it, then made another. I found my lightning-hit tree but had to shinny up it to harvest some charred wood. I filled my fire bag with the tinder. Just before leaving the swamp for my cave I harvested a big double-armful of the driest moss I could find and made my way home. I had a handful of cattail fronds in my belt for fibers.

I set aside the moss near the door to dry. It would be insulation, toilet paper, lamp wick, short-lived scrubbies for the dishes and anything else I could think of. I searched out a depression in the floor near my 'skylight' to make my fire. I realized that I'd neglected to retrieve any firewood! Fat lot a flame would do with nothing to feed it. I went out once more to gather wood. Squaw wood is composed of dry, dropped or hanging dead branches. If the branches are still attached to the tree then it can't be damp from the ground, now can it? I went back to the swamp and selected two dead trees still standing in the water, without bark. They were almost laying down but not quite. I pulled them free of the swamp and hauled them back to camp, carrying the small remaining root balls and dragging the tips. I did this twice more, then searched out smaller wood--branches to get the fire started with. Note that I began harvesting wood the furthest that I could from camp first, to preserve the easier-to-harvest wood for a time when I was tired or sick. There were many dead trees at the edge of a closed-off portion of the swamp. It must have shifted or grown relatively recently.

After returning to the cave I looked down at my mud-streaked legs. I had a thought about footgear, and felt for winter clothing. I returned to the bear's carcass and cut away at the paws until they came free. I wanted to tie them high in a tree until they dried. When I needed hide glue I could boil them. I needed lime to de-hair hides as well to harvest the hair. From the looks of the plant life around the cave it was middle-to-late-summer. Hopefully I had enough time to build up my larder.

With my arm-full of firewood I returned to my firepit-to-be. I emptied my firebag onto a flat place on the cave floor, retrieved my flint and steel, carefully set some charred wood over some wood shavings and had at it. Within a half hour I had a small blaze going. I carefully fed it, then went outside for one of my dead and dried deadfall trees. I bashed it against the floor to break off a few pieces, then put the smaller end in the fire. I filled the pot half full of meat and then to the top with water. It was put near the fire to cook while I insured that I would have an easier time of staring the fire the next time. I carefully cut a strip three fingers wide and six fingers long from the bottom of my poncho. Using two sticks I carefully browned, then charred it in sections so that if I burned up one section the rest would remain useable. I made charcloth. I tied the sections into round bundles and put all but one on a dry shelf.

While waiting for dinner to cook I used my cup to almost fill another depression in the floor with water, then dropped in several handsfulls of raw bear fat. I'd noticed several hand-sized stones near the root ball of the tree that fell and took out the bear. I went out to pick up a double handfull. These I dropped in the fire. When dinner was almost ready I used a stick to retrieve them one by one and skitter them across the floor and into the 'fat pit', being careful to stay low in case one of them exploded from the sudden cooling. With just three rocks I had it simmering nicely. My bear soup may not have been a balanced meal, nor very tasty because there was no salt in it whatsoever, but it certainly hit the spot. After drinking/eating a couple cupsfull I refilled the pot with more water and pulled it a bit away from the fire. I cleaned the cup out with a bit of moss which I pitched into the fire, then carefully dipped out the rendered bear fat, a quarter cup at a time and filled the lamp depressions. I had a handful of moss soaking in the hot fat in one of the depressions. I kept switching out rocks until I got tired. Then I put the root ball in the fire for a nice, slow night log.

As I lay back, thinking over the day, I was happy with what I'd done. The next day would be a firewood and moss day. A nice, big bale of moss backed by a couple of big logs would make a perfectly respectable door. I'd try to get my lanterns going as well. Maybe I'd work on fire tongs or some wood cutlery. I had a good start. I remembered my "Thank you, Mother." and fell asleep.

"--Day 3--"

What should I be thinking about? I had shelter, food, water and fire. I needed weapons, not only for defense but for hunting. It would be tedious cutting down a straight sapling, but it had more chance of gaining me a good spear. I also needed to go foraging. a digging stick was simple to construct compared to a spear. I tended the fire then had a couple cups of bear-meat porridge, refilled the pot and headed out to do some quick moss and firewood harvesting. I thought about how to better use the trees I was hauling. If I just burned off the root balls they could be used for a travois to haul heavier loads than I could carry, such as a deer carcass. If I stacked the poles against the cliff wall half-tipi fashion and covered with hides they would make a smoke house which would preserve meat much more efficiently than drying racks would. I spent half the day harvesting loads of moss and water-killed trees. The afternoon was spent digging potatoes and looking for likely hardwood saplings. I didn't find any the first day. however, I did find a half-dozen two-inch rocks that I could fashion into a pair of bolas. I accidentally tasted the water at the end of the swamp which held the dead trees. It was brackish! Somewhere around that section of the swamp was a salt deposit and I was determined to find it. Regrettably it was getting dark and night was not the time to be scouting new territory. The predators come out at night.

As soon as I made it back to the cave I made the bolas. I felt more secure with a distance weapon in my hands. I spent a couple hours eating and rendering bear fat before going to bed. I said my prayers and fell asleep.

"--Day 4--"

I rose, tended the fire, ate, dressed and headed for the salt-swamp. I had cut a strip of canvas from the rear of my poncho to make a shoulder strap for the foraging bag. It left me with both hands free. Once I discovered it, it was pretty obvious where the salt was coming from. There were grey-brown strata in the hillside. I filled the bag several times before I was too pooped to do more. I made seven trips that day and vowed to make more the next. I had a large mound of salt filling one of the larger storage ledges. That evening I slowly tended the fire, ate and began wrapping a huge bale of moss into a plug for my door. I remembered to bury a handle in it to pop it loose or I'd have to destroy it to get outside! It was a snug friction-fit. The handle gave a good brace point for a staff to prop it firmly in place, using a defect in the floor to brace against. I said my prayers giving thanks for the beautiful gift that day, and quickly fell asleep.

"--Day 5--"

I painfully rose, tended the fire, ate, dressed and left with the carry bag. In hindsight I should have made another and constructed a yoke to carry a balanced load but I neglected to think it through. After filling the shelf to over-flowing I stopped harvesting salt and continued looking for a spear shaft or two. I found a small valley filled with closely crowded young straight saplings that had no branches until their tops. They varied in size from four inches across the base to little whips. I identified several that were about two fingers across the base. I cut three of them, skinned them while they would slip the bark and carried them back to the cave to dry. I hung them from a piece of cord from the 'skylight' so that they would dry in the wood smoke. That done, I looked for reeds the size of my little finger. I wanted something to sit on to keep my ass off the cold floor of the cave. The answer was a Cherokee backrest. It takes some one hundred reeds close to two feet long, strung together into a tight mat. That became an on-again, off-again project that I pursued for over a month. Whenever I explored or harvested I cut off a few more reeds and stuffed them in my carry sack.

I was tired of wondering where the water in the cave was going. I harvested four of last year's cottony cattail heads on fairly stiff reeds. I gently soaked them in bear fat and lit one in the fire. It made an excellent, though drippy, torch. I'd use less bear fat next time! Besides, it was a precious resource. When would I harvest another bear? Holding the torch high over me I stuck my head through the hole and looked around. The water ran in a rivulet down a sandy beach to an underground lake. I was glad that I hadn't been using it as a toilet! The lake surface went out over twenty meters before the cave ceiling sloped down to meet it. The cave was perhaps eight meters wide. It was a beautiful spot. I'd have to debate with myself whether or not to use it, which would no doubt degrade its beauty.

That night I prayed once more to Mother, but this time I asked a question. "Mother, I have need. I have seen the beautiful water cavern that my spring drains into. Please, Mother I need to know your intent. Is this to be a place of worship or a resource? I hesitate to defame anything so beautiful and likely taking thousands of years to create."

With this, I fell asleep as if I had been switched off. I found myself standing before a giantess. She was handsome and had short white hair. Green veins ran through her silvery skin. Her eyes--I could not look into her eyes. "You have done well to ask me. This is the type of behavior that I cherish. Your cave shows little of the enormous slow-moving underground river that flows into the sea. You may use it as you will as long as feces and offal are not dumped there. It is a cold cave and the air does not stir. It would be good for storage. Sleep now."

"--Day 6--"

When I awoke I was sleeping on a tanned bear skin. I was amazed at the gift. It would have taken me several weeks to tan the thing and I would never have approached the quality that I felt between my fingers. When I rose I kicked something that wasn't there the night before. There was a tall stack of canvas, another huge hank of cord and a good steel axe. I was curious why I was given these gifts. I could only guess that I was being rewarded for not being an ecological idiot. When I walked outside to void myself I found myself knowing that a half day's walk that way was a chalk cliff with chert nodules exposed at the cliff's foot. I turned and looked at a stand of bushes at the verge of the woods and knew that they would make wonderful baskets. I also knew how to weave baskets. What an amazing gift! I spent the day as I was commanded to, using my mind.