Return to Eden

forgetting completely the dreaded name of Ugunenapsa."
    CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
    The trading took up the better part of the first day, then extended into the next day as well. The Paramutan enjoyed it too much to finish with it quickly. Hanath and Morgil were soon possessed of the same enthusiasm, regretted only that they had not brought more to trade. Then someone had suggested fresh meat. All activities were suspended while the two hunters seized up their bows and hurried into the forest.
    While the Paramutan were the best hunters in the ocean they lacked the Tanu skills ashore. The four freshly killed deer were greeted with high-pitched shouts of approval.
    There was feasting—and the trade continued. Then more feasting to celebrate its satisfying end. Kerrick sat away from the others, on one of the dunes that faced out over the sea, deep in thought. Armun came to join him and he took her hand and seated her beside him.
    "They are teaching each other songs now, she said. "Though they have no idea at all of what they mean."
    "We should have made some porro—then there really would be a celebration."
    "Don't even say it out loud!" She laughed at the two hunters who were now demonstrating how the Tanu wrestled. "Even the thought of the Paramutan drinking porro is enough to make me want to flee."
    There were more shouts and a loud thud as Kalaleq showed them that, even for their size, the Paramutan were strong wrestlers as well.
    "I have been thinking about many things since we came here," Kerrick said. "I have made some important decisions. The first decision is to make you happier."
    She held to his arm and laughed. "I could not be happier, we are together."
    "Not completely. I know that there is a thing that bothers you—so I tell you that this is now finished, over. Arnwheet has many friends, but I have forced him to come with me to talk to the one on the island.
    And you hate that."
    Her smile was gone now. "I do. But you are a hunter and I cannot tell you to do one thing, not another.
    You do as you must."
    "I have been wrong. When we return I will see that the boy stays far away from the one you call a marag.
    But the marag is my friend and I take pleasure in talking to him. But Arnwheet can do as he wishes. If he wishes to forget how the murgu talk—he will forget."
    "But you have said many times how important it is that he knows these things."
    "I do not think that way any longer. They are of no importance. I have been blind to what the world is really like. I look Tanu, but I think like a murgu. No longer. The world has not changed. Just the way I see it has changed."
    Armun listened in silence, not understanding, but knowing that what he was saying was terribly important to him. He smiled at her attentive, silent stare, touched his finger to her lips.
    "I think that I am not saying this right. The idea is clear in my head, but does not come out in the correct way. Look there, look at the Paramutan, at the wonderful things they make. Their ikkergak, the sails that move it, the pump for water, their carving, everything."
    "They are very good at making those things."
    "They are—but so are we. Our flint knives, our bows, spears, the tents we sleep in, we make all of them.
    Then think too of the Sasku with their pots and looms, woven cloth, crops…"
    "And porro—we must never forget that!"
    They laughed together while the wrestling on the beach grew even wilder. Two of the Paramutan were so absorbed in the match that they were engulfed by a wave—which everyone thought very hilarious.
    "What I have said about making things is important," Kerrick said. "Even the porro is important. Because this is what we do. We make these things with our hands. The artifacts that we construct cannot die—because they have never lived. A spear is as good in the snow as it is in the jungle."
    "This is true. But is it important?"
    "To me—it is the most important discovery. I have been thinking like a murgu too long. The murgu make nothing. Most of them do nothing either—other than live, eat, die. But there are those few of the knowledge of science and they can control living things. I don't know how they do it—I have the feeling that I will never know. But I have been so stupid in thinking only about the things that they grow. How they do it, why they do it. Everything that I have planned, everything that I have done, has been done in the murgu way. I have tried to think like them always. This was a mistake and I now