Letters from a Caveman Part 5: The Shaman

Letters from a Caveman Part 1: Time Travel
Letters from a Caveman Part 2: The Great Food Hoard
Letters from a Caveman Part 3: The Dwelling of the Lost
Letters from a Caveman Part 4: The Tribe of Hunters
Letters from a Caveman Part 5: The Shaman
My Lost Two Weeks and Blog Hijack

Since my last message I have been in great pain, my tribe. I am also greatly excited, for I have met the shaman of another tribe who I believe to have great powers.

In my last communication, I told you about the dwelling of the hunters, where many great men (and women!) lifted rocks and practised their hunting skills. I had journeyed there with my hunter friend and we lifted many rocks of different sizes in many different ways until we could lift no more. Now I am almost unable to walk and my hunter friend thinks this is funny.

My tribe it is 12 moons since I was first taken away from you by some great magic and found myself in the body of another, in this strange land beyond the mountains. I have been watching myself each morning in the piece of ice in the waterfall chamber. I have come to recognise my new other self and become less afraid of him.

The woman has begun to command me to do things again, but I have not yet beaten her for this. My elders and fellow hunters, do not think less of me for this, but I may not beat her at all. For I have begun commanding her, too, and she does obey. The woman commands me to do things which are not important and I have come to learn that by obeying these commands I appease her and she will obey my own commands.

My tribe I will not pretend that the woman and I have found peace. For sometimes a command goes unheeded and there is great anger between us. But my tribe, this is often resolved not with a beating, but with wrestling of another kind. My fellow hunters, you will understand what I mean.

This happened before the last moon but to tell you this story I must first tell you about another piece of great magic I have not mentioned in my previous communications. I did not wish to speak of such things to my whole tribe.

My tribe, in this flat-walled dwelling there is a chamber where a strange, hollow white rock can be found, in which there is a tiny pool of water. This rock is the size of those we place around the fire to sit on and has two pieces of wood to cover it. I came to understand that the woman and I must use this pool as our tribe uses its waste area. Yet this rock is in the same chamber as the water we drink and wash in! There is waterfall magic in this rock, for when you press part of it, our waste is washed away by an even smaller waterfall than the one in which we wash.

When I first found myself here I greatly angered the woman because I did not use this rock - and now it has become the cause of further anger. I have come to accept that I must use the white rock as the waste area, but there is one thing the woman demands which I cannot obey. She commands me to arrange the wooden lids in a certain way which confuses and angers me. This has been the cause of many conflicts, but also of many resolutions that did not involve a beating, and for this reason, my hunters, I continue not to obey.

My tribe, I must tell you about the shaman.

Before the last moon I journeyed to the dwelling of my hunter friend, who I came to understand has no woman. He had many sand-coloured foods in his food store and we feasted on these. My hunger was great even though the woman and I had only recently feasted on such foods.

Soon, other men came to my friend’s dwelling, and I understood that many of these were also my friends. Some were like the hunters we had seen lifting rocks and some were like the man with child from the dwelling of the lost. When these men arrived there was much shouting and playful violence, which made me both joyful and sad, my tribe, because it reminded me of my home with you.

The men talked of a great feast in another village, then a journey to a dwelling where there would be a gathering and dancing. They talked of potions and dream drinks and I was greatly excited, for as you know, this is the way our tribe celebrates the changing of the seasons and other important events.

I also saw that I had talked to one of these men at the dwelling where we lifted rocks. My tribe, at this moment I came to realise something about this strange land. There are many tribes here but there are no tribes here. Perhaps there is only one tribe. I have seen a tribe that hoards food, a tribe that uses communication tools all day and a tribe of hunters; and now, in my friend’s dwelling, I saw a new tribe. Was this the tribe of the man I had seen lifting rocks, or was hunter tribe his tribe? I was confused, but also happy, for this tribe felt more like my own tribe than any other I had visited.

My tribe when the shaman arrived, there was much reverence. He was a man of great stature, with long, beaded hair, like that of our own Shaman. His eyes saw only the distance and his words were most mysterious. My friends and I gathered around the shaman and watched him work with his potions and herbs. There was much discussion and playful anger as the potions and herbs were passed around and exchanged for the leaf tokens the woman had taught me to use.

I was silent during these talks, as I knew nothing of these potions and was wary of the shaman’s magic. But then I recognised something – for the shaman has brought many mushrooms like those our Shaman puts into the dream drink. At this moment I spoke immediately and demanded all of the mushrooms. My friends found this very funny and also made a great cheer as the shaman exchanged the mushrooms for my leaf tokens.

My tribe, my friends will soon arrive, for it is this day of our great feast and gathering. I will communicate with you again as soon as I can.

Letters from a Caveman Part 1: Time Travel
Letters from a Caveman Part 2: The Great Food Hoard
Letters from a Caveman Part 3: The Dwelling of the Lost
Letters from a Caveman Part 4: The Tribe of Hunters
Letters from a Caveman Part 5: The Shaman
My Lost Two Weeks and Blog Hijack