Shame of Man (18 page)

CHAPTER 8

MUSIC

To recap the complex development of the modern human mind: as anatomically modern humans spread out from Eden across Africa and leaked across the Sahara Desert to touch Asia Minor, the mind continued to change in the heartland. As with computer software that lags behind the hardware, the realization of the potential of the human brain took time. What had started as a way to address life in the water as well as on the land enabled the brain to grasp new ways of thinking. Self-consciousness came: thinking about thinking. The need to share such awareness with others, to know that they too felt it, led to far more sophisticated modes of expression. The vocabulary of nouns and verbs acquired
better syntax, enabling people to address the past and future as well as the present, and to speculate on what might be as well as what is. The arts, speaking directly to the new sensitivities, became important, distinguishing mankind from all prior efforts. Perhaps the first of these were music, dance, and storytelling
—
none of which leave evidence for the archaeological record.

The time is about 30,000 years ago, on the southern coast of what is now France.

T
HE settlement was some distance in from the shore, but they had no trouble finding it because of the well-worn paths to the sea. Hugh led the way, carrying their supplies, with little Chip following close behind.

The natives knew they were coming, of course. No stranger approached a settlement without being noted, watched, and reported well in advance. But there should be no trouble, because they were obviously not a war party, but a family. And they wore the body paints of entertainers. They should be welcome, but if they were not, they would not be harmed. The spirits did not take kindly to those who harmed their messengers.

Indeed, by the time they saw the shelters, the folk were out awaiting them. The tribe leader was a large, gruff man, but though he carried a club he was not in a threatening posture. “Who are you?” he demanded as the family came to a halt before him.

“Hugh the flute and Anne the dance,” Hugh replied in the standard manner. “We come to make you happy, for your hospitality, as long as you wish us to stay.”

The man gazed at Anne, who was artfully posed with one hip outthrust. He nodded, needing no second glance to appreciate the aspect of a beautiful woman. “I am Joe. Accept our hospitality this night, and for other nights if our people like you.”

“Fair enough,” Hugh agreed, and Anne rewarded the man with a brilliant smile. Joe licked his lips, knowing that this was no more than artifice, but impressed nevertheless.

Joe turned and led them on into the settlement. There were about ten houses formed of poles and hides, and a central hearth well banked with coals and ash at the moment. The houses were in a rough circle, their door-flaps facing inward; space was cleared beyond them to allow people to be sure that no person or animal was close. Few creatures challenged man by day, but some did explore by night.

A woman approached. “I am Bunny,” she said. “I will help you make shelter from our materials.”

“Thank you,” Anne said. This was a routine courtesy for invited guests; the tribe provided the makings and helped the visitors put up their house. When the visitors departed, the house was taken down again. Normally the poles or hides were marked, showing that they were for temporary
residences. Visitors had a special status, not being expected to forage or hunt with the tribe, and not being privileged to participate in its decisions. Visitors depended on the good will of tribe members, and this was made clear throughout.

Bunny was joined by her son and daughters, Stone, Doe, and Weasel. Stone was five or six, Doe four, and Weasel a toddler of two. Now Hugh understood why Joe had assigned this woman to help: her children came close to matching Anne's children in age and gender. Chip was five and Mina was three. Of course these folk did not know that Mina had been adopted as a foundling, and it hardly mattered; she had been part of the family from her day of birth. Only her glossy black hair differentiated her from the others. There was no need to mention that Anne had proved to be barren after birthing her first baby.

The poles and hides were good, being made for this purpose, and soon the house was up. The children, at first abashed, were soon playing happily, running around the house in opposite directions and giggling.

But as evening came, it was time for the visitors to perform. The tribesfolk gathered for their evening meal, and sat in a circle around the fire. There was space for Hugh and Anne to do what they had to do. Now was the time of reckoning; if they were not entertainers, they would be denied food and sent away.

Hugh brought out his bone flute. It had a cutaway mouthpiece across which he could blow to make a whistling sound, and five holes he could cover with his fingers. It did not look like much, but he had practiced on it for years and knew his skill was good. He had always had a special ear for sound, and now was using that awareness to pay his way.

Anne got the children settled, then dressed for action. Now she wore a grass skirt, and removed her jacket, leaving her upper portion bare. Hugh's practiced eye noted the narrowing of the eyes of the tribe men, and the play of their tongues around their mouths as they got their first clear look at Anne's body. She was easily the most beautiful woman here, with her brown hair descending to her midsection and her tiny waist and broad hips. But it was her breasts that had the greatest impact; they were surprisingly large and firm for a woman with two children. Of course she had made a specialty of her appearance, normally veiling it with clothing and posture, then emerging like the brilliant sun from behind clouds. Few would have guessed that she was twenty; her face and body seemed five years younger.

After a suitable pause for the men to assimilate the sight, they started. Hugh blew a note on his flute, then another, going into a well-practiced song. There was a faint appreciative murmur from the tribesfolk; they recognized immediately that he was skilled. They loved music, as all people did; it struck through to their inner feelings.

Then Anne began to dance. She had been absolutely still, like a wood carving; now she moved her slender legs and swung her broad hips from
side to side without disturbing her upper torso. The men smiled, instantly appreciating the sex appeal. The women were expressionless; it would not be suitable for them to evince similar pleasure. But they understood this art well enough, and perhaps were making mental notes.

Hugh's melody intensified, growing louder and faster. Anne moved with its beat, skipping, and now her breasts shook and bounced, and her special anklets rattled as her feet struck the ground. Her thighs flashed through the grass skirt as she lifted her legs high. She began to sing, at first matching Hugh's tune, then going into counterpoint. Hugh, still watching the audience reaction as he played, was gratified to see several mouths fall open with awe. They had never heard counterpoint before, but they felt its power. This was music beyond their experience.

When the song and dance was done, there was a light sheen of sweat on Anne's body, further enhancing it. It was clear that all of the men and a number of the women were sexually aroused. They were well satisfied with the performance.

“But anyone can do it,” Anne said. “I can show you how. See, even my little daughter has learned.” And she nudged Mina, who, ready for this, went out and made her bottom move. The effect was hardly as potent as it had been for Anne, but it was clear that if such a small child could project her hips that way, any girl or woman could. The audience was clearly impressed.

“And anyone can play the flute,” Hugh said. He glanced at Chip, who brought out his own little flute. He proudly tootled a recognizable melody.

Joe stepped forward. “Eat, friends,” he said. “And tomorrow—teach.”

Hugh nodded. Of course the tribeswomen and elder girls wanted to learn how to make their bodies move like that, and the men wanted to know how to do counterpoint. Dancing was a woman's natural performance, and music was a man's; those who did these things well were valued anywhere. Hugh and Anne would teach them the fine points of their techniques. The process would require several days, and life would be easy during that period. That was the point. When the learning was done and interest waned, they would move on to another tribe and repeat the process. This was the nature of their livelihood.

They had a good dinner. Then a number of tribesmen came up to Hugh, asking about his flute; he let one of them try to play it, but all he got was an ugly whistling squeal, as Hugh had known he would. Tribeswomen approached Anne, inquiring how she had achieved such a good body. And the children were popular with the other tribe children. It was a successful evening.

“How do you play music so well?” a man asked.

Hugh gave his standard answer: “The spirits are with me.” Anne said much the same, with respect to her ability to dance so provocatively. Of course they had both worked at their specialties long and hard, but so did
some others, without having the same success. And they did respect the influence of the spirits; they seemed to have had good fortune since adopting Mina, who had been left out to die. It seemed the spirits appreciated their effort to keep the baby alive. Spirits had greater concern for the welfare of the very young and innocent than they did for relatively corrupt adults. So they were happy to give the spirits credit; that complimented the spirits, and kept their favor.

But at night, in their house, Hugh spoke of a disquieting note: “I saw one man who resented our popularity.”

“And I saw one woman,” she agreed.

“His wife?”

“More likely his sister. She is close to our age, but does not seem to have borne children. I don't like her.”

“There are a few such in every tribe. Now that we have identified them, we'll be wary.”

“But the woman Bunny is nice,” she said. “So are her children. Her husband is away, searching for a new foraging area for wood. She says she is glad he is away, because she doesn't want him to see me.”

“A nice way to compliment your appearance.”

“Perhaps. But it seems he dreams of a woman, though he is true to Bunny, and so she fears the effect of any pretty stranger.”

“Men do dream of pretty women,” he reminded her. “I have not felt the need, myself; however—”

She struck him lightly on the shoulder. “Leave that unfinished. The odd thing is that Bunny doesn't think that her husband's dream woman is especially pretty. There's just something about her that captures his fancy. But perhaps a pretty woman might substitute for that mysterious quality. So Bunny prefers to play it safe.”

“As she should,” Hugh agreed affably. “If he saw you, and you
were
his dream woman, where would I be?”

“Oh, you would not be lonely. You could keep the children—Bunny's and yours.”

“What delight,” he said wryly.

“What's wrong with it?” Chip demanded from the other side of the chamber.

At that they all burst out laughing, and went to sleep.

In the morning most of the men had to go out hunting, and the women out foraging. Bunny remained in the settlement, watching her children and others. She talked to them, encouraging them to learn new words, and did her best to keep them out of mischief. Anne helped by demonstrating her hip swing for the girls. The little ones couldn't do it, but they loved trying. They had more success when she showed them how to fashion anklets that
rattled when they stomped their feet. Soon they were marching in step, thrilled by the massed beat.

Hugh, meanwhile, worked on another bone flute. He had found a nice hollow bone a few days ago, and carved on it when he had time. The holes had to be placed just so, or the notes were wrong. So he would make a small hole, blow the flute, then enlarge the hole in the direction required to get the note right. He had a special ear for it. This took time and care, but he enjoyed it, because he knew that few others could do as good a job as he did. Most folk could not even select a good bone, not realizing that the musical qualities of bones differed, so that each had to be tested. It would be a shame to waste a good bone with bad holes.

“Just don't carve any more holes in
me,”
Anne said teasingly. “I won't improve, no matter where you place them.”

He glanced at her appraisingly, about to make a suitable response. But at that point Joe approached, accompanied by the resentful man and trailed by a woman. Hugh paused in his carving, fearing trouble. “That is the man,” he murmured.

“And the woman,” Anne agreed.

“I don't like either of them.” But that was only approximately true, in the case of the woman; there was a certain fascination mixed with the repulsion, for a reason he could not fathom. Had he known her elsewhere?

“Bub says you use the wrong hand,” Joe said.

Oh, that. Usually no one noticed, but sometimes there was mischief when they did. “I use the correct hand for me,” Hugh replied carefully.