Death on the Trek by Kaye George Page A

animals at that time as there had been later. All his life, until the recent moon cycles, game had been plentiful, so there had been no reason to move about.
    He noticed the strangers conferring with each other. They were clothed in animal skins, as were the Hamapa, but these skins were not mammoth or bear, or even deer. The fur, worn on the outside, looked stiff, like the bristles of a peccary, about as long as bear fur, but not so dark, more the color of mammoth. Jeek wanted to touch one of their garments.
    They used only their strange words to communicate, it seemed, and no thought-speak. After many spoken words and some head nodding, one of the males came forward.
    He wore a band of woven grasses wrapped around his head. Small river shells hung down in his face so that Jeek wondered if he could see well. His skin was dark, like the others, but his hair was the light color of aspen leaves as they lose their summer hue when they are going into the Cold Season. Several more of these strangers had the same light hair, but most were dark.
    The male walked toward them slowly. Jeek looked at his brothers and sisters in puzzlement. Should these people not send a leader to greet them? Why were they sending a male? Maybe the female leader was away from the village, trading or exploring or scouting.
    When the male got to them, he scanned their faces. Hama stepped forward. He raised his eyebrows and looked at her mate, Hapa, and at Panan One Eye. Those two stood just behind her, ready to defend the tribe if it was needed. Hapa and Panan both focused their gaze on Hama, ready to take cues from her.
    Then Jeek understood. These people were led by a male, not a female. Part of the Mikino Saga, a part that was not always used, told about them having male leadership. But the Mikino were not like the Hamapa at all. These ones seemed more like Hamapa, not Mikino.
    Words came from the mouth of the male, but they all sounded like, “Hoody hood hood hoody.”
    As he spoke, he gestured toward the firepit. Some roasted meat lay on a rock beside it. Jeek thought he might be offering the meat to them, but no one made a move toward it. Finally, the male picked up a piece, lifted it to his open mouth, and pretended to eat it, then handed it to Hama.
    She reached up, for the male was very tall, and took it between two fingers. She drew it to her nose and sniffed. Her eyes closed and a look of joy so intense it was almost a look of pain came to her face. She tore a small piece off and tasted it. She chewed and chewed. Then she smiled a huge smile and spoke to him. “Yaya. Ta.” She was telling him, Yes, good, thank you .
    The male pointed to the meat piled on the large, flat rock. The other males and some of the females also pointed to it.
    With great caution, the Hamapa stepped forward and took small pieces of the meat. As they began to eat, the others smiled and nodded. Some of the Hamapa began at a slow pace, then ate more and more. They were all so hungry.
    At first, Jeek enjoyed the fresh, cooked meat intensely. After the first edge of his hunger was satisfied, he began to think it tasted strange. Almost bitter. It was also tough and stringy. His empty belly rumbled as he ate. But if he chewed it thoroughly, he could eat it. It was fresh, and better than the jerky.
    When the pile of meat dwindled, the head male clapped his hands and some females ran to one of the huts and brought out more cooked meat. The Hamapa ate and ate until they could eat no more. They all wondered what this strange meat was, but they knew it had saved their lives.
    Hama gestured to the ground, trying to ask if they could sleep there, in the center of their village. No one understood her, so she lay down and raised her eyebrows in question. When the males standing nearby nodded, the rest of the Hamapa tribe lay on the ground also to sleep.
    Sister Sun was disappearing as the eyes of Jeek slowly closed. He heard the strange tribe moving about, but nothing seemed alarming.