The Dig

He might be the only person in the land that would understand the meanings and usages of the strange specimens. If they wanted to reach the dwelling of Groond Poppa before sundown, they would have to gather the items and start marching. He lived around the far side of the mountain near Glozz Laych.

Soon they had tied some branches of the yechiott tree together, to form a sort of device similar to one that would carry a wounded person, and had the three items loaded on board. The three people would rotate in shifts, always leaving two to carry the cargo at any given time.

Leaving the other six peechont students behind to continue digging, they started off towards the home of Groond Poppa the wise. The three traveled for a few hours along the well worn paths of the wilderness. The mountain stayed always on their right. They passed endless rows of green trees of countless varieties as they laboured with the heavy cargo on the skiff. The troop had been steadily climbing for some time now. As they rounded a corner, they spied the jewelled waters of Glozz Laych, and knew that there was not far to go.

During the six hour march, having crossed many adjoining paths and foot-ways, the three had seen very few humans on the road. Once they had passed an old man who was trying to urge on his breehaw. The stubborn animal just stood there braying at him.

They had met with a hunting party of five men and eight women coming the other way, and had stopped briefly to chat, but then quickly moved on.

Now as they dropped down toward the settlement near the water, they passed more and more people. Some they knew; always the people waved or exchanged a polite greeting.

Soon, they came into the village. The mud and straw humpas were varied in size from each other. Some had tendrils of smoke rising from the small hole that was always at the summit of the thatched roof. There were people here and there, engaged in daily activities.

An old man stood roasting a pooka on a spit above a roaring fire. He had an ingenious set-of-gears designed spit turner. It took almost no effort to crank the handle that through gear reduction, would turn the heavy carcass over and over, roasting it evenly.

Children almost naked save for swatches of teeomine, ran around chasing each other and laughing.

Men and woman sat in front of their humpas making clothing and blankets from teeomine and other types of skins.

At the far end of the complex, near the waters edge, stood the dwelling of Groond Poppa. It was the same as all the other humpas, save for it stood alone, away from the other dwellings. This is where the three were now headed. Garamet and Shraapna carried the skiff. It was fitting that Harra, who was the tach-peechont, would knock on the door of the wise old chief.

She walked up to the wooden door of the large humpa and gave three hard raps. She then took a step back and waited.

After a few moments they heard the latch being drawn from within. The door swung open, and there stood Groond Poppa himself. He was old and almost toothless. He stood naked but for a loin cloth and his teeomine hat. He looked them all over silently for a moment. Then his eyes grew wide as he spied the items on the skiff.