Tzoskan

Alan Dwight

alantfraserdwight@gmail.com

Tzoskan carefully drained the blood from the rabbit and skinned the carcass. He put the pelt aside to deal with later. He set the entrails apart and thrust the spit lengthwise through the body, then placed it over his fire. He tossed the heart and liver to his waiting dog, Chraski, who grabbed thetreats hungrily and bolted it down. As the rabbit cooked, the boy slowly turned the spit, exposing all sides equally to the fire.

When the rabbit was done, he removed it from the fire, and cutting it in pieces with his knife, ate each piece slowly, savoring the flavor.

Although young (he had seen only ten winters), he had shot the rabbit with a single arrow, piercing its heart.

The children in his tribe wore no clothes in the summer until they reached puberty, and even then, they only wore a loincloth. And so, in his early summers, Tzoskan wore nothing. His bare feet grew very tough. In the winters he wore a warm cloak and deer-hide boots which his mother fashioned for him from the pelts his father brought home. As she worked, she taught her son how to make neat stitches. At first he was very clumsy when trying to stitch the sinew, but as he practiced, he grew more adept.

The hut they lived in was built by placing saplings vertically in a circle and bending them so they formed a dome over which deer hides were stretched. Tzoskan’s father showed him how to build the hut and make repairs when needed.

When he was a very small boy, he began to call his penis his pisser because of the sound made by his urine splashing on dried leaves. He was very fond of it, and he often stroked it. Sometimes it got hard and poked forward. He didn’t know why. His mother told him that, when he was old enough, he would use it to make babies, but he had no understanding of how that would happen.

After Tzoskan’s fourth winter, his father began to take the boy hunting with him. He made a child-sized bow and small arrows for the boy. Then he taught his son how to shoot. Tzoskan was an avid, fast learner, and by the end of the summer he had already brought home a few rabbits.

Tzoskan’s mother had taught him how to prepare an animal for cooking and how to work the hides for clothing. Tzoskan was very proud the first time his family ate the meat which he had killed, skinned, and cooked.

His father showed him how to track deer and elk but told him it would be several winters before he was big enough to slay and bring home the larger animals. He cautioned him never to take on a bear, for they were dangerous, especially when wounded or protecting their cubs. If he got one angry, he would not be able to outrun it, so it was best to leave them alone.

Living closely in the hut with his parents, Tzoskan became aware of his parents mating as he listened to them at night. The sighs and groans he heard sounded to him as though mating wasn’t much fun. He later realized how wrong he was.

It seemed to Tzoskan that every year his mother had a baby. While they did not all survive their first year, by the time he had reached his tenth winter he had six brothers and sisters. When he was young, he didn’t realize the connection between his parents’ mating and his mother having babies, but as he grew older and observed not only his parents but also the mating animals of the wild, he figured out what their coupling caused.

His family lived with a small group of people who called themselves the Dasnvoli, which meant ‘the people’ in their language. While they lived like a tribe, they were not all related. They were simply a collection of families who lived together for protection. The people of the tribe were amazed at Tzoskan’s skills. Other children tried to imitate him, but none were as successful until they were much older.

From his earliest days toddling around the little village, Tzoskan played with the other children. He was very sociable and loved by everyone in the tribe. His particular friend was a boy named Agsac. They spent hours together every day. Their favorite pastimes were pretending to hunt, playing in a nearby stream, and throwing and catching a small, squirrel-hide ball which Tzoskan’s father had made for them.

As they grew older, Tzoskan taught Agsac what his father had shared about hunting. Agsac’s father made him a small bow, and soon they were hunting together. They were not competitive and shared all their kills.

One day, when the boys were hunting, they were joined by a dog from the tribe. The dog adopted Tzoskan, and the boy named him Chraski, which meant Fierce Hunter. Chraski was anything but fierce, but he enjoyed hunting with Tzzoskan and Agsac and soon proved his worth as a retriever.

There was a white-man’s town a two-and-a-half-day walk from the Dasnvoli, but the people of the town never bothered them. Occasionally, someone from the tribe would walk to the town to obtain things they needed, using some of the pelts from their hunting to barter for items. Since they had no source of metal, most of the items they obtained were metal ─ pots, pans, knives, and occasionally an axe.

In the year of Tzoskan’s sixth winter, his father brought him a knife from the town. The knife had a handle made from an antler, and a blade a little longer than the boy’s hand. He wore it proudly every day, tucked into a belt made from a squirrel pelt.

In the spring after Tzoskan’s eleventh winter, his father went to the town to purchase a new iron pan. Tzoskan had begged to go with him, but the man wanted him to stay at home and protect his mother and siblings, because a woman alone was sometimes in danger.

The man returned a week later, and a few days after that his skin broke out in a red, very itchy rash. There was an ancient man among the Dasnvoli who was known as a healer. Tzoskan’s father went to the man, who refused to see him, saying that there was nothing he could do and that the man would either live or die.

His father’s temperature soared, and three days later he was dead.

A funeral pyre was built by the people, but none would touch the man to put him onto the pyre, so the boy and his family carried him out, placed him on the pyre, and set it blazing. They watched, sitting and clutching each other, until there was no more fire.

Unfortunately, a week later, the boy’s mother and brothers and sisters began vomiting and soon broke out in the same rash. When they died, the boy laid them on a deerskin and dragged them out of the hut to where the pyre had been. Scavenging in the woods, he found enough fallen wood to build another pyre. He sat together with Chraski, tears pouring down, as he watched his family burn. He and the dog were soon joined by Agsac, who hugged his friend to him as they sat together.

Strangely, Tzoskan himself never got the rash.

Agsac, who had been talking with the healer, advised Tzoskan to burn the family’s hut. The two boys removed some items from the hut and placed them outside in the sun. Together, they set the hut alight and watched with Chraski as it was consumed.

Then they set about building a new hut. Tzoskan had learned from his father how the hut was constructed, and before winter set in, he was living in his new home.

Other families invited Tzoskan to live with them, but he preferred to remain with Charski and his memories in his own hut.

Agsac began to live with them, at first to give his friend comfort but later simply to be with his friend and his dog. He became interested in what the old healer was able to do with his herbs and plants. He went to the man and asked to learn from him. The man, knowing he had little time left and believing that the Dasnvoli would need a new healer, agreed to teach the boy. Each day after that the old man and Agsac could be seen gathering herbs and leaves, combining them in various ways, mashing them together, and then adding a bit of water to the mixtures. These they shared with people who came to them with various ills ─ coughs, headaches, chills, and vomiting. The boy learned quickly and in time he was nearly the equal of the old man.

The two boys continued to live with each other, although Agsac went off to the old man during the day while Tzoskan hunted with Chraski.

The next winter, Tzoskan’s and Agsac’s twelfth, the old man died, and Agsac became the new healer for the Dasnvoli. Sometimes someone would come to the boys’ hut in the night, seeking a cure. Agsac never turned them away. He listened carefully to what they said and then usually gave them a remedy for their ailment. Like his mentor, Agsac never sought to profit from his skills, using them generously for the good of the tribe.

By spring, the two boys were hunting together each day. Chraski joined them on their hunts and became expert at flushing prey from the tall grasses. When one of the boys shot a duck in a nearby pond, Chraski dived in, took the bird in his teeth, and returned to the boys. When he deposited the duck at the boys’ feet, he seemed to be smiling. The boys cleaned and prepared their kills, cooking the meat over their fire and tossing hearts and livers to the dog.

Tzoskan decided that it was time for him to use an adult’s bow and arrows, so he began to practice with the ones his father had used. At first he found it hard to draw the big bow, but as he persisted, he grew stronger and more accurate with his arrows.

At night they slept on a hide lying on the ground. When it was cold, they covered themselves with a deer or elk hide and snuggled together, sharing their warmth. The snuggling led to physical feelings which they didn’t understand but which they enjoyed. As they grew older, they discovered that when they were gratifying those feelings, they shot a milky liquid from their pissers. The feelings were so intense that they sought them night after night and sometimes during the day.

During their thirteenth winter, they observed that hair began to grow on different parts of their bodies, although they never had hair on their torsos.

Their bond grew stronger and stronger. Though they had begun wearing loincloths during the day, their hard bulges made it very evident that they had passed into adolescence.

The villagers never said anything, although occasionally a young child asked what the bulges were.

The boys simply told the children it was a grown-up matter and not to bother them.

It was the custom within the tribe that when a boy had lived for 14 or 15 winters he took a mate. Girls were eligible as soon as they began their bleeding. This custom began to put pressure on the boys.

The boys knew the custom, but they had no interest in following it. Girls didn’t appeal to them, although several girls tried. As far as the two boys were concerned, they were mates, but it took some time for the tribe to accept the fact. However, sex between men was not discouraged, and such men became honored in the tribe as having special attributes. And so it happened that the older the boys became, the more they were honored by the Dasnvoli.

In addition to using the pond to hunt ducks, Tzaskan and Agsac joined the children who swam in it, removing their loincloths to enjoy the water. Often, Chraski also jumped in.

One day, when the boys were hunting, they found a tree which showed large claw marks. Chraski was very interested in the tree, and he snuffled all around it, growling. The boys wondered what sort of an animal made the marks. When they asked among the village men, they were told that the marks were made by a bear sharpening its claws.

Tzoskan remembered what his father had said about avoiding bears. He told Agsac his father’s warning, and after that they became more careful of where they went when they hunted.

The bear never bothered the little village, and in time the boys forgot about it.

The summer after his thirteenth winter, Tzoskan killed his first deer. Chraski was very excited and bounced around the body, barking, leaping at it, trying to bite into it. The deer was too heavy for the boys to carry, so they fetched a hide from their hut, placed the deer on it, and dragged it back to their hut. The task took a long time, but they knew they should drain and gut the deer quickly before the meat began to go bad. Chraski was fascinated, and of course he gobbled up the still-warm organs he was offered. They did much of the work by firelight, and by the time they finished they were exhausted.

Knowing that they never could eat all of the meat before it spoiled, they distributed it to the families of the tribe. As time passed, they distributed more and more food. Their generosity became known among the people, who often brought gifts of gratitude for them. The boys tried to refuse the gifts but the people insisted.

Tzoskan’s and Agsac’s fifteenth winter was a bitter, life-threatening one. The temperature fell way below freezing, and snow piled so high it was almost impossible for people to hunt. The boys had learned from their elders how to make snowshoes so they could get about, but there seemed to be few creatures to be found. The villagers suffered from hunger that winter, and a few perished.

One night as the boys lay, having satisfied each other, they heard wolf howls. The tribe had never been bothered by wolves, but there was fear that if the wolves were hungry enough, they would invade the cluster of huts. Since the huts had only hides hanging in the doorways it would be difficult to keep the wolves out.

Sure enough, one night a week or so later, the boys heard screams and shouting and the snarls of wolves. They guarded their doorway through the night but no wolves tried to get into their hut.

In the morning there was a commotion outside their door, and a man called for the healer.

Agsac stepped outside and found a man holding a young boy who was bleeding from a laceration in his arm. The boy appeared to have no more than five or six winters. The man explained to Agsac that a wolf had gotten into their hut and attacked the boy before his father could slay the animal.

“Is this Bradisk?” asked Agsac.

“Yes,” the man answered.

Agsac examined the boy’s arm, shaking his head sadly.

“I will try,” he said, “but I doubt I can save his arm. It can easily become infected, and depending on how much blood he has lost, he may not survive. “

Agsac took the boy into the hut, built up the fire so that he could see the injury, and said to the boy, “I will try to sew up your wound, Bradisk. It will hurt and you must hold still and be very brave.”

Fearfully, the boy nodded.

The boy’s father sat and held his son gently, whispering encouraging words to him.

First Agsac used snow to wash the wound, having been told by the healer that doing so often prevented infection. He knew nothing of germs, but he followed his old mentor’s advice.

Tzoskan gave the boy a tough piece of hide to bite down on while Agsac prepared a bone needle and some narrow strips he had cut from rabbit intestines.

“This will hurt,” said Agsac. “You must be brave and hold as still as you can.”

Bradisk was crying, but he nodded.

Agsac told Tzoskan to hold the gash closed. Then he began to stitch up the cut. The boy whimpered but bravely held as still as he could.

When Agsac finished, he told the boy how brave he was. Turning to the man he said, “I’ve done all I can. Now we will have to wait. Have him put his arm in the snow from time to time as the cold will lessen his pain. But be sure he doesn’t leave it in too long or he could develop frostbite. If he gets feverish, use snow to cool him down. If pus forms, he will probably die. If he is still living in fourteen days, bring him back and I will take out the stitches.”

Agsac and Tzoskan watched as the man carried the boy back to their hut. Agsac sighed and said, “I wish I could be more help.”

“You gave them hope,” Tzoskan said, “and that’s all you could do.”

After that night there were no more sounds from the wolves. Nobody knew whether they had fled or had perished from hunger and cold.

Two weeks later the man and a woman both walking on snowshoes came to the hut. Again the man was carrying Bradisk.

Agsac looked closely at the boy’s arm. It had healed, although there was an ugly scar. When Agsac said that he was going to remove the stitches, Bradisk was afraid and whimpered, but Agsac told him that it wouldn’t hurt. After the healer had removed the stitches from the wound, the boy hugged him so hard he was afraid he’d be choked. The woman too hugged him and thanked him with tears in her eyes, and the man thanked him profusely.

From that time on, the people knew they had a healer who could save lives. He cautioned them many times that he could only do so much, that he could not cure all their ills and injuries.

The following summer, the boys hunted as usual, Agsac joining Tzoskan on the days when he had no patients. Although Chraski was growing old, he insisted on accompanying them.

Bradisk, who idolized both boys, asked if he could join them, and from then on he became a permanent companion of the two hunters, using his small bow as Tzoskan showed him.

One day, as they walked together, they observed that the wild blackberries which grew at the edge of the woods were beginning to ripen. They agreed that soon it would be time to harvest them.

A week later, they walked towards the blackberry patch, nonchalantly swinging deer-hide containers for collecting the berries. They were not paying a great deal of attention to where they were going.

Suddenly, Chraski gave a low growl. Looking up, the boys saw a mother bear and her two cubs in the blackberry patch. The mother rose on her hind legs and snarled.

Tzoskan said quietly, “Bradisk, move very slowly behind me.” Then to Agsac he said, “Don’t turn, but back up slowly.” He reached for an arrow, knowing well that a single arrow would most likely not stop the bear.

The mother bear looked at them, went down on all fours, and began to walk towards them, snarling. The boys knew that she was protecting her cubs, and that made her very dangerous.

Chraski barked and ran at the bear, who reached out and slapped the dog aside. Chraski yelped and fell to the ground, bleeding. Infuriated, the bear charged toward the boys.

Tzoskan knew he had only one chance. He drew back his bow, waited till the last second, and let the arrow fly straight into the bear’s gaping mouth. She roared and lashed out with her paw, dragging all five claws down Tzoskan’s chest, tearing his flesh open.

Tzoskan screamed in pain and lost consciousness.

The bear fell face down, for the arrow had penetrated her mouth and gone into her brain.

Agsac hurried to Tzoskan who lay with the dead bear on top of him. He was bleeding profusely, although she had missed his major arteries.

“Bradisk,” commanded Agsac, “run to the Dasnvoli and bring help.”

The boy needed no encouragement. He raced off in the direction of the little settlement.

Meanwhile, there was little that Agsac could do. The bear was too heavy for him to move so he could do nothing about it, and the bear was covering Tzoskan’s injuries so he could not do anything about them either.

As he waited, he examined Chraski, who whimpered weakly and died in his arms.

The wait seemed to last forever, but men from the tribe came racing to the boys. Immediately, Agsac sent Bradisk to the boys’ hut for supplies.

The men were able to move the bear to one side, and when the boy returned, breathless by then, he handed the supplies to Agsac and collapsed on the ground, panting heavily. He sat beside Chraski, petting him and mourning the dead dog.

With water that some of the men had brought from the pond, Agsac cleaned the wounds as much as he could. Then while a man held the first gash together, Agsac stitched it up, praying all the time that Tzoskan hadn’t lost too much blood.

As Agsac finished stitching the gashes, he said, “We’ll need some way to carry him back to our hut. Two men dashed off and soon returned with an elk hide. They very gently moved the injured boy onto the hide and carried him to the hut.

Without being told, Bradisk stoked the fire and ran to get more water.

Tzoskan’s silence alarmed Agsac, who feared that his partner might never regain consciousness.

It wasn’t until that evening that Tzoskan groaned. Agsac was immediately with him, bathing his head in cool water and talking quietly to him.

Tzoskan moaned from time to time and tossed about a little as he lay on his back, but he said no words.

Even though the night was warm, Agsac covered him and lay beside him, eventually dropping off to sleep. Without asking, Bradisk lay by the injured boy’s other side and also slept.

When Agsac awoke in the morning, Tzoskan hadn’t moved. He lay moaning occasionally, all that day and the next. With Bradisk’s help, Agsac bathed the injured boy’s head and body, fearing infection and fever.

On the third day, Tzoskan’s eyes opened. He looked about as though wondering where he was.

“What happened?” he asked. Agsac told him, with Bradisk adding details. Tzoskan had no memory of the bear or being attacked, and he was astounded to learn that he had killed the bear and survived.

Agsac knew that the gashes could still become infected. When Tzoskan said he wanted to sit up, his healer refused to let him. “You must lie still and give your body time to recover.”

At the end of two weeks it became clear to Agsac that Tzoskan would survive. He helped the injured boy sit up and then stand. Tzoskan became dizzy and would have fallen had not Agsac and Bradisk supported him. They helped him out of the hut to a large tree stump where he could sit in the sunshine. He was impatient to do more, but Agsac wouldn’t let him.

Tzoskan’s memory began to return, and he shuddered when he remembered the bear attacking and clawing him.

Each night, Tzoskan slept with Agsac on one side of him and Bradisk on the other. Slowly, he grew stronger.

When winter came, Bradisk returned to his home, promising to return when the snow melted. Tzoskan and Agsac did some winter hunting, killing an occasional rabbit and, once, a stag, which provided them with meat and a new hide through the cold months. Now that Tzoskan was better, the boys also returned to long, warm sessions of pleasuring each other.

When spring arrived, with the sounds of birds warbling in the trees and small animals scurrying about, Bradisk returned, followed by a puppy. The boy said the puppy’s name was Glebroki.

That night the older boys spent a long time arousing one another, moaning and breathing hard until they climaxed. It was only then that they remembered that Bradisk was with them. He had lain awake, watching them as they coupled.

“Are you okay?” Tzoskan asked the younger boy.

Bradisk nodded before asking, “Can you explain something to me?”

When the older boys agreed, Bradisk said, “I think you were doing what my parents do, making babies. But you can’t make babies, can you?”

Agsac chuckled. “No, but we can still enjoy the feelings.”

“If you did the same to me, would I enjoy the feelings?”

“No,” replied Tzoskan. “Your body needs to grow some more first.”

“Oh,” said the boy, clearly disappointed.

That night, as Tzoskan and Agsac happily coupled, Bradisk lay, fondling himself, Glebroki lying beside him.

Like the two older boys, Bradisk had no interest in girls, and when he matured sufficiently, he joined the boys in their nighttime activities, forming a threesome.

As he grew, he learned from Agsac how to find medicinal plants and from Tzoskan how to hunt. Glebroki always joined the hunt, racing about and flushing small animals and birds from their cover.

The other members of the tribe never questioned the boys’ arrangement. The three continued to hunt whenever possible, often passing on food to others in the tribe. When a person was sick or injured, Agsac and Bradisk tended to them and were able to cure many, although of course not all.

Many winters later, as Agsak and Tzoskan grew old, Bradisk assumed more and more of their care. He in turn trained a young boy in the arts of medicine. And when each of the older men died, it was Bradisk who prepared the pyre and sent him on his way.

In time, Tzoskan and Agsac became legends among the Dasnvoli, famed for their skills and their generosity. Sitting around their fires at night, the people told stories about Tzoskan and Agsac. Children were especially enthralled by the tale of the bear. Children grew up hearing of Tzoskan’s and Agsac’s abilities and kindness and were encouraged to emulate them.

And so, two unassuming but caring boys lived satisfying, happy lives and grew to be exemplars for all the Dasnvoli.