This time the hunter came closer before he sat. Kerrick saw that he was carrying a dark bowl of some kind filled with water. He raised it in both hands and drank, then leaned far forward and put it on the ground between them.
Hunters who drink together are sharing something, Kerrick thought. It is a peaceful act. He hoped. He watched the other closely as he reached out and picked up the bowl, raised it and drank from it, returned it to the grass.
The other reached down for the bowl, picked it up and poured the remaining water onto the ground beside him. Then he tapped the bowl and said one word.
“Waliskis.”
Then handed the bowl back to Kerrick. Kerrick was puzzled by the actions, but he nodded and smiled in an attempt at reassurance. He held the bowl close and saw that it was made of some dark brown substance that he could not identify; he looked at it more closely. Rough and brown, but decorated with a black pattern near the top edge. He turned it in his hands—and discovered that there was a larger design in black on the other side.
It had been well done, a clear, black silhouette. It was not a random blotch or a simple, repeated pattern. It was the figure of an animal. The tusks were obvious, the trunk as well.
It was a mastodon.
“Waliskis,” the other said. “Waliskis.”
* * *
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kerrick turned the bowl over and over in his hands, then touched the representation of the mastodon. The other nodded and smiled, repeating “waliskis” over and over. But what did it mean? Did these Tanu also have mastodons? There was no way to tell, not if they couldn’t speak to each other. The other now pulled gently at the bowl until Kerrick released his grip, then turned and went back to the trees with it.
When he returned the bowl was filled with cooked vegetation of some kind, lumpy and white. The hunter scooped out some of the food with his fingers and ate it, then put the howl on the ground. Kerrick did the same; it tasted quite good. As soon as he did this the stranger turned and hurried back under the trees again. Kerrick waited, but he did not return.
Their meeting seemed to have ended. No one appeared when Kerrick called out, and when he went slowly across the field to look in the grove of trees he found it empty. The encounter was puzzling—but encouraging. The dark hunter had shown no weapons, but had brought water and food. Kerrick picked up the bowl, retrieved his spear, and returned to the tents. The hunters on guard called out when he appeared and Herilak ran up the hill to greet him. He tasted the food, approved of it—but had as little idea of its significance as Kerrick had.
The sammads gathered to listen when he returned, and he had to tell the story over and over again. Everyone wanted to taste the new food and the bowl was quickly empty. The bowl itself was an object of great interest. Herilak turned it over and over and tapped it with his knuckles.
“It is hard as stone—but too light to be stone. And this mastodon is just as hard. I understand none of this.”
Even Fraken would not venture an opinion. This was all new to him as well. In the end Kerrick had to decide for himself.
“I’m going to go back tomorrow, in the morning, just like today. I’ll bring them some meat in the bowl. Perhaps they meant to share food with us.”
“Perhaps they meant for you to feed the mastodons with it?” Sorli said.
“We have no way of knowing anything,” said Kerrick. “I’ll bring them some of our meat. But not in their bowl. Let me bring them one of the woven trays with the designs.”
Before it became dark Armun took the best tray, one that she had woven herself, and washed it clean in the river. “It is dangerous to go back,” she said. “Someone else can go.”
“No, these hunters know me now. And I feel that the danger is over, the worst part was when I first went up there. These new Tanu hunt these grounds and we must be at peace with them if we are to stay. And we have nowhere else to go. Now we will eat, but save the best pieces of meat to put on the tray for me to take with me.”