It was the time of the year to travel south. Everyone knew it. It was less than half a moon since Ivory's village celebrated the Autumn Equinox with traditional solemnity, but the snow had settled at night and not melted, the mammoths were restless, and the sky was thick with flying geese.
"Tomorrow!" announced Chief Cave Lion. "Today we gather what we need for the journey. Tomorrow we leave."
Ivory was as reluctant to leave as anyone in the village, but the chief had spoken and the auspices were right.
"I hate Winter!" Ivory sulked as she and Glade sorted the herbs and medicaments needed for the trek south. These they tied together by cord and stuffed in the deer-skin sacks the shaman and her apprentice would carry with them. When they were ready, Ivory and Glade accompanied everyone around what for so many months had been where the villagers gathered to feast and celebrate. They then waited as the village congregated in anticipation for the start of the long southwards trek along the path they traditionally followed in either direction once a year. Northwards in Spring. Southwards in Autumn. The southern plains were undoubtedly beautiful and Ivory was in awe of the mountains that signalled the trek's southernmost point. Unfortunately, this land was at its most inhospitable when its bounty was in most demand.
Ivory was to abandon to the mercy of wolves and lions the village that was her Summer home. She gazed longingly at the tepee she and Glade had shared for the last few moons. She would carry the most precious things that could be collected from their home in sacks strapped to her back, but what she would most miss was the humdrum daily routine and the warmth of a fire that was never extinguished. Until now, of course. When the villagers returned in the Spring, everything in the village would have been sniffed at and pissed on by wild animals. Most tepees would collapse under the weight of snow and then be trampled on by large beasts.
Chief Cave Lion eventually emerged from his tent. It was the custom that he should be the last man to leave. He scraped aside the snow and kissed the bare earth. He raised his spear on both outstretched arms above his head and strode to the head of the waiting column of villagers who despite the warmth of their thick furs were already shivering in the chill Northern wind.
There was one last ceremony to be observed before the village could at last begin its trek. This had to be performed by the shaman accompanied, naturally, by her apprentice. Glade and Ivory walked hand-in-hand together towards the sacred stones that marked the village's boundary with the shaman singing in her rich alto voice and her apprentice in a reedy soprano. The words were in the tribe's tongueβnot one of Glade's choosingβand they were addressed to the spirits of Winter and Snow to guard the village and defend the spirits of their ancestors.
As her mother was one of the spirits to be protected, Ivory took this ceremony very seriously. It was imperative that her mother should rest in peace and shield the village from the evil spirits of the long night. It hurt her though to reflect that Glade attached no great significance to the ceremony. But then what could the shaman know? She hadn't been born in the Mammoth steppe and none of her family was buried in its frosty soil.
The ceremony was soon over. The sacred stones had been blessed. The village was bade farewell as tradition demanded. The Mammoth Hunters could now sleep at ease confident that everything possible had been done to guard their summer home. As long as the goodness of the spirits prevailed, the village soil would welcome them back at the Spring Equinox.
Every day of the southwards march was hard. Generally, progress was frustratingly slow. The travellers were weighed down with provisions. Fresh meat needed to be gathered each day. The travellers generally tried to keep in step with the migrating mammals such as mammoth, rhinoceros and great deer, although they were also mindful of an accompanying migration of cheetah, leopard and hyena that could no more survive the winter than their prey.
Ivory wept when she finally lost sight of the village far in the distance across the open steppe. Wolves and lions would already be tearing at the furs they had left behind and trampling over the shattered shards of earthen pots and bowls. She squeezed Glade's hand though she was careful under the watchful eye of her fellow Mammoth Hunters not to make her display of affection too obvious.
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"It must have been very pleasant to live with the Ocean People all year round and to never have to migrate," Ivory remarked, envious of the better life Glade had once known.
"Life was certainly comfortable," admitted Glade. "There was so much food in the ocean that could be harvested with the right tools for those brave enough to swim out to sea. The Ocean People never knew hunger. Every day the sea provided a bounty of fish, crab, lobster, shrimp and sometimes seal or dolphin. Even the sky had its bounty of birds that the Ocean People caught in nets they threw off the side of steep hills. There were also more familiar animals such as deer, okapi and antelope that wandered towards the sea and could be easily speared on the sand or pebbles where they were no longer so fleet of foot."
"The Ocean People must have considered themselves fortunate to have so much ready food."
"They might have done had they ever known otherwise, but they very rarely thought about it. The Ocean People put far more significance in the merits of philosophy."
"
Philosophy
?" wondered Ivory, who had no idea what the word meant.
"Yes," said Glade as she wearily adjusted the weight of her deer-hide sack on her back. "Philosophy is the art of debate and reason. It is what the Ocean People most enjoy doing. They gather together in small groups in the shadow of trees or under the stars and talk. They talk about the existence of spirits, the size of the world, and the nature of the moon and stars: anything and everything."
"Why's that called 'philosophy'? Isn't that just what everyone does anyway?"
"Yes, but not everyone does so methodically. And not everyone shares the outcome of these discussions with the rest of their tribe."
"What was so wonderful about that?"