A Short Trek from Cave-man to Soccer-mom
(Ichnak-the-caveman
to Charlotta-the-modern soccer-mom)
Inception
Kontekah
felt a sharp jab in her back; Ichonak had awakened to a cold morning; the fire
in the center of the cave-dwelling had died down to a few, barely glowing red
embers; it was his mate’s job to keep the fire blazing in a conflagration to
ward off the “color”-season chill. Soon enough, the white-freeze would conquer
the world, then, the woman would have to be ever more vigilant.
An
infant girl and her four year old sibling huddled close under an animal-skin
robe, blissfully unaware of the little “caveman” drama playing out in the
chilly cave-house. The children slept between the adult parents, both for
warmth and for safety-sake. If they should wander off in the hostile
environment of dawn’s pre-history? Well! Beware! Mankind’s future was at stake!
Wild
berries, mushrooms, leaves, seeds, moss, fish and small mammals made up modern
mans’ ancestors dietary sustenance delights; life was hard; “survival” through
any means most difficult and, quite obviously---absolutely…necessary. “Better” times were coming---had to be!
Only
twenty hot seasons had passed for Ichonak; in the last changes, he had found
tracks of another creature leaving prints similar to his own. Following the
discovery, the cave man had discovered a similar type being to himself.
Surreptitiously spying on the interloper, noting the creature’s habits and
motes operandi, which, surprisingly, mimicked his own undertakings.
Late
in the greening-time of coming warmth to the land, the intruder had been caught
in a river partially thawed backwater while stalking on a thin ice slough
trying to spear fish. The ice had failed and the fisherman fell through to the
icy water. Using his long spear to buoy himself against the fleeting ice shelf
and sure drowning death, the visitor became even more frightened when Ichonak
emerged from a thick stand of willow saplings still bare of new leaves along
the shore and rushed toward him holding a large branch which he offered toward
the hapless victim.
Saving
the half-drowned fellow pilgrim from an icy grave, the two managed a fire and
shared the fish of the interloper; though language presented a severe problem,
soon they were grunting smiles of some understanding. Ichonak coaxed his
newfound friend to follow him to the cave.
When
Kontekah emerged from the shelter in her womanly glory---Well! Let the games
begin!
She
sat cross-legged holding a small rock with a shallow depression in it, like a
bowl, into which she fed nut and seeds gathered in the woods; these she ground
to a thick paste to be added to her spitted venison roast; the mortar and
pestle were a treasured tool. The newcomer admired both her admirable skills
and tempting curvaceous looks; he had been alone for much too long.
In
very short order, the welcomed visitor took an insatiable liking to the varied
obvious differences between himself and the soft and friendly Kontekah than he
did to the few annoying similarities he shared with his new host, Ichonak. Ah!
The stuff wars are made of! Indeed!
Mother
Nature’s eternal rule prevails: Survival of the fittest through Natural
Selection!
This
drama played out some thirty-five thousand years ago; some things never change!
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