The Blessing Stone Read Online Free

wasn’t egalitarian for the simple reason that the family members were not capable of thinking for themselves. Like the herds grazing the savanna around them, or their ape cousins living in the distant rain forests, the group needed a leader for survival. One always rose above the rest, either through physical strength or mental superiority. It wasn’t always a male. Before the leader named River there had been a strong female named Hyena, so called because she laughed like one, who had led the Family on their eternal and unchanging cycle of scavenging-gathering. Hyena remembered the borders of the territory, knew where the good water was, where berries could be found, and which seasons produced nuts and seeds. And when one night she had been caught separated from the others and, by great irony, had been torn limb from limb by a pack of hyenas, the Family had wandered aimlessly until a flashflood singled out River as their new leader.
    Now Lion led them to the fresh water supply he remembered from four seasons ago—an artesian well protected beneath a rocky overhang. They fell upon the pool and greedily drank their fill. But when, thirst slaked, they looked around for food, they found none. No sandy bank in which to dig for turtle eggs or freshwater shellfish, no flowers with tender roots or vegetation harboring tasty seeds. Lion surveyed the scene with displeasure—surely there had been grasses here before—and finally indicated with a grunt that they had to move on.
    Tall One paused to look down at the pool from which they had all just drunk. She considered the clear surface and then looked up at the smoky sky. She looked down at the water again and this time took the rocky overhang into account. She frowned. The water they had woken to at dawn had been undrinkable. This water was clear and sweet. Her mind struggled to make the leap. The sooty sky, the rocky overhang, the clear water.
    And then the thought was formed: This water was protected.
    She watched the Family as they trudged away—Lion leading with his hairy, hide-bound back, Honey-Finder at his side with a baby in her arms, a small child riding her shoulders, and an older child clutching her free hand—shambling, loping, their thirst forgotten now that their bellies ached with hunger. Tall One wanted to call them back. She wanted to warn them about something, but she didn’t know what. It had to do with the new, nameless danger she had been sensing lately. And now she knew that, somehow, the nameless danger was connected to water—the soot-covered water of dawn, this clear pool, and the pond that Lion was leading them to farther along the ancient path.
    She felt a tug at her arm. Old Mother, her small withered face turned up to Tall One with an expression of worry. They mustn’t fall behind.
     
    When the Family came upon a baobab tree laden with fruit everyone who could wield a stick swung at the branches, bringing down the pulpy seedpods. The Family feasted on the spot, sitting or squatting, or even eating standing up so they could keep a watchful eye out for predators. Then they dozed beneath the wide-spreading tree, feeling the heat of the afternoon settle into their flesh and bones. Mothers nursed babies while siblings rolled playfully in the dirt. One Eye was in the mood for a female. He watched Baby as she picked through the pod shells hoping to find one overlooked, and when he tickled her and stroked her, she giggled and fell to her hands and knees, allowing him to enter her. Honey-Finder picked lice out of Lion’s shaggy hair, Old Mother smeared spittle on the little boy’s burn wound, and Tall One, leaning somberly against a tree, kept her eyes on the distant angry mountain.
    After their nap they roused themselves and, once again impelled by hunger, pressed westward. Toward sunset the Family arrived at a wide stream where elephants waded and sprayed water with their trunks. The humans approached the bank of the stream cautiously, searching for