Mystery Hill

As the group marched on south, the members kept close to one another, it was new territory, and the earth seemed to be erupting, shaking here and there, as if Mother Nature had a stomachache and for this and other reasons, Big-chest always seemed fearless-someone had to be strong; and in the process of the journey, they all became more dependent on him because of his strength, with a positive mind set, it was good though, for all of them, to have left the cozy campsite by the Atlantic, and for those to have left the great cliffs beyond the ocean; they had perhaps stayed too long at the campsite once arriving to land from Europe, everyone was getting on each others nerves, but it was a good rest; all moving closer to Big-chest day by day, and in a like manner, to one another. Even though Big-chest had his fears, it was not his nature to show them, and therefore, he was a valuable asset for and to the group; he kept his doubts, suspicions, and reservations, quiet inside his huge monstrous being, knowing they would serve no purpose.

[The first eruption demolished the igloo, but other ones were happening one after the other. The ice was cracking all about, everywhere. It seemed as if there was a displacement in the earth's curst: movements that is. As these events, they seemed to be linking to the pull of something in the heavens. It would seem if these eruptions were happening all over the world, consequently, it would in time replace continents, and create new islands; an up-to-the-minute, new environment for whatever species could survive it, or live through it. And so during this time Big-chest and his Assemblage took little rest in heading on south, feeling the farther they go south and the farther they travel inland, the better and the safer they'd be.]

During this period of unrest, and trudging south, Tundra never lost his love for the hunt, especially walrus, but now such a hunt was close to its end, they were too far south, and too far into the interior of the land to find walrus. But like all involved, he knew he had to give up certain things to survive, as did Big-chest, and he mostly reflected on what the original group gave up in searching for a new home-and he'd replace his old hunt with a new one as time would allow.

And as for Little Bird-turtle, she was quiet during most of these days, moreso, after the fire took place you could say (perhaps a little post traumatic stress, fear, phobia type things)-, on the other hand, it was weary and getting to her also, like it was for everyone.

Tattoo-woman, was feeling shame for her dishonoring her name, her family, her group: all forgave her though, but herself.

Stern-toes kept drawing pictures on rocks as they traveled south, pictures he took with his eyes; and Big-chest seemed to befriend him much more than in the beginning of the trip, as did Jaguar-eyes; that is to say, Stern-toes and Jaguar-eyes would stay up often at night looking up towards the stars and just dream a bit: with its gray-light haze: Jaguar-eyes also took a liking for the two older men, Stern-toes and Big-chest, even though he was twenty, or so, more years younger than Stern-toes.

As they headed farther south, the balance of day and night seemed to dominate the scene, in that, it was more balanced now. And better for the groups sleeping. The days were longer, and nights shorter.

As these disruptions kept coming, seeing that the earth was having birth-pains of some kind, or so the group referred to them as: they came on to a land that seemed to be of interest to Big-chest [New Hampshire].

Here they took an abrupt turn, into a wooded area. The group in a kind of daze from walking for months on end; it had now been sixty-months, a little better than five years since Big-chest walked out of his Branch-type environment across the great body of water. Big-chest was now eighty-years old, he had lived double his life expectancy, or that of a persons (or perhaps more, taking into account, the dangers of his times, perhaps 10-times his life's anticipation), and Stern-toes was but five years behind him. The group was tired, but no one wanted to defy or even at this point doubt Big-chest, they needed to believe in him (or someone), and did.

Big-chest, He was the ruler, the leader, the king, and they learned to trust him: believe in him-they had hope. Then a strange thing came about as they came into a peculiar area, a dense wooded area with huge stones about: a hill type area; there was an old man sitting down on a rock-just sitting, present, humming away, a lucid smile, old misty eyes, faded old white skin. Behind him was several structures, unfinished, with huge stones that were cut, laying about, several needed to be put in placed it looked, that is, to be lifted and one by one put on top of the other to make shelters: as if a settlement was in the makings (perhaps temples of some sort), but for some reason was abandoned. The stones were a foot thick, and must have weighed from one to fifty tons; some were just simply gigantic. Said Big-chest to the old man:

"My name is Big-chest, I see you in my dream," the old man knew right away who he was and said politely:

"Yes, I know, come, I have deer meat cooking, and fresh water for you and your group: my name is…" before he could finish it, Big chest said: "Qallunaag."

"Yes," the white man replied, "You can call me that if you wish".

And the group walked up the side of the hill, then as they got closer into the campsite, the settlement area that was left from the people before them, undone hamlet, they all sat down to eat-they all knew instinctively, this was their home to be. Stern-toes noticed there were underground tunnels leading from one dugout hut to another that had stone overheads. And other places: dwellings looked like temples, and an assortment of what a sacred site might look like (in comparative to Stonehenge), a hidden site for the most part, where one might live unknown from others for a thousand years. A simple sanctuary, with just sides and tops of granite stones, nothing like the Stone-builders elaborateness, but these huge placed stones, cut out stones would endure anything-ten-thousand years if need be; yes, he concluded, '..They'd still be standing,' thought Big-chest. This was ideal for the world that seemed to be turning upside down. Even a crust movement would have a hard time displacing these stones.

The Last Member

[It hit each and every member privately.]

There was one more member, That should have been counted- But no one knew who it was (perhaps caught in a dream): On their long journey into the Arctic

(Where was this unannounced-? Anonymous figure: member?)

He was never counted by his friends, -somehow, someway; but lived…

They reached, 'Mystery Hill,' A delusion that never faded (for the King of the Assemblage):

He kept the images in his head, Almost broken by cold and long journey; Now, winter's dawn, almost gone, Hence: death had no more privileges-

Qallunaag

Said the old man to Big-chest,

"I've been waiting for you a very long time, this is your home, I am too old to have gone with my people south, and you are too tired to continue, stay here for a decade-a century, it will be safe, as the earth moves and moans, then have your people go south." Then the old man got up from his rock and walked into the woods, never to return.

Said Big-chest to his people, "Leave the old man to himself, let him die as he wishes, it is not up to us to tell a man how he should die."

But Big-chest was amazed at how this old man, who also told him he was 175-years old, could just walk off and die a dignified life as this, this way. Just this one, this simply one gesture the old man did almost traumatized Big-chest-reminiscent of the old lady he once knew who befriended him (back at the cliffs in his younger days), some people have a lasting impact on others, these two people did on him; it broke his soul cracked it open, when no one else could.

Said Stern-toes, he and Big-chest watched the person fade into the woods, never to be seen again: "She was really old looking," and put a smile on his face as he turned to Big-chest:

"What," said Big-chest, "He was an old man?"

"No," said Stern-toes, "it was a woman."

Big-chest then turned to Jaguar-eyes, who was standing by listening,

"You tell me, man or woman?"

Jaguar-eyes, had learned, he could tell the truth with Big-chest, and survive, and said confidently, "I think it was a woman." (Hesitantly.)

Here was a person who connected into the same vision with Big-chest, the same dream he had, who had faith in him also-and if it was the old woman from his youth then she had never left him, and who waited for him, while his people went to safety, and himself. The person could have died a week ago, a year ago, but he surely insisted she or he must live until Big-chest arrived, or so Big-chest believed, and so it looked. And maybe the person was a spirit, he had heard of them from the Stone-people.

The stranger was tired, aged, whose body was not functioning well, and death would have been a comfort compared to his living like a wounded deer thought Big-chest, reminiscent of his female friend in the cave so long ago (whom was an estranged mother at best, but with some kind of comforting presence for Big-chest). But no matter whom it was, all sat thankful now that they had found a home: as the cooking meant was distributed: each had their share, along with fresh cool water poured by their women, fresh clear cool water from a nearby stream (little things now were appreciated): it was all worth it, thought Big-chest, the old person's waiting, and waiting, and hoping Big-chest would follow his destiny, 'and I did' he told himself. That was brave he thought: brave what the old white person did-or white woman, whom was so white he looked akin to a ghost compared to Big-chest. This was the way to die, he thought, with others loving you, appreciative of your works. The way he thought before, death was no more than stepping on a worm. It is not fully I suppose, the way he wanted, or wished to die to walk off into a wooded area and never be seen again, but it was a hero's death nonetheless he confirmed to himself; he would be remembered by his people, and by the Assemblage, as perhaps the Godfather. 'How many of the Stone-People will be remembered.' he asked himself, 'not many,' and then he answered himself: 'not any.' He didn't need to be remembered for a thousand years, or even a hundred, just a few, that would do he told himself.