For the Good of the Clan by Miles Archer Page B

must have found him. Terrible beasts, boars, feared by even the bravest hunters, for they will charge a man as soon as flee him. Their powerful jaws and vicious tusks can slash a man open and spill his life in seconds. Could Ulat have met with a boar?
    I started to walk in ever-widening circles about the rocky edge of the brook. Where the soft earth started there were indeed tracks of a large boar. But the pace seemed leisurely, not the tracks of an animal charging, but those of a cautious approach, one who moved slowly, testing the situation before deciding it was safe to feed. I did not know what had happened here.
    Ulat’s spears and atlatal, his spear-thrower, lay next to him. I could not tell if he was trying to throw against the boar or if he was taken unaware. Not like Ulat to be taken by surprise, here, in the open. The nearest cover for the boar is many paces away. I followed the trail of hoof prints to the tangle of sedge and brush. Only the boar’s tracks could be seen.
    I turned in the other direction, to the setting sun and slightly toward the winter sunrise. When I reached the tall-grass meadow I could see where the leaves were bent, and in one or two places, the print of a moccasin. The size of the print matched Ulat’s; he was a big man, very strong. Very quick, too. It must have been the evil spirit of a boar, not the flesh-and-blood kind, to have killed him so quickly, without struggle or fight. Ulat could not have missed the sound of an animal rushing towards him, but a spirit demon? That he might not have sensed. I had made a powerful amulet for him. Had my magic failed to protect him? Were my powers too weak to fend off this thing from the spirit world?
    I pondered how I might remake all the clan’s amulets. First, I had to know what spirit did this, then gather the necessary plants, bone and stone. If it was the boar spirit, the men will have to hunt its living counterpart and bring me its bones and teeth. The flesh is good and will feed us many, many days, but I hate to send them after so dangerous a prey unless it is absolutely required. I could not make a mistake here or others might die. What was it that killed Ulat?
    When the mat was brought I carefully laid Ulat’s remains onto it, then bound it with strong twine. Now the hunters might carry him in safety. They bore him back to the village.
    Daneel and his companion returned. They found the remains of a deer carcass some distance away, in the dark dense firs, but nothing else. I made the guess that Ulat was returning with the deer, successful yet again in his hunt, when he was set upon. Perhaps that was why he had not defended himself; he was burdened with the carcass and did not have time.
    We took our solemn cargo to my hut and the men set it upon the bench there. Tonight I will prepare Ulat’s body for his journey into the spirit world, the alum al mithal, where Ulat can join our ancestors, sit at the fires, telling his life-tale to the elders who have gone before, just as I will tell his life-tale to the clan. Just as I tell the tales of all the important events of our tribe, year upon year, as the griot that taught me told them, and the griot before him, and as Donathan will tell them after me. Thus we know the lives of our forebears and the memory of the clan is preserved for all time.
    Donathan joined me. I was pleased to see he had brought the necessary items. Perhaps the boy was finally learning what he needed to know. The herbs, the grasses, Ulat’s wolf skin cape, his bowl, all were there. I opened the grass matting. Donathan turned away, pale. He wanted to vomit, but his stomach was empty, like mine, for we should not eat today, before doing our final duty to Ulat.
    I arranged the remains as best I could. Ulat will be reborn in the sky, complete and whole, but I wished his body to lie comfortably in the earth. His spine was clearly visible from the front, where the viscera were missing. Something shiny winked at me in the dim glow