The Giant of Africa (4)
Once the hide dried, I wrapped it around the rim as planned and struck the drum hard.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
It was the first one I'd ever made, yet the sound was surprisingly loud. Without a proper resonating chamber, maybe it was the tension of the stretched hide—whatever the reason, the tone came out sharp and bright, like a small drum.
And beside me, there were ten of these drums laid out.
Thump! Thwump! Thump thump thump!
It was only possible because of High Bird sitting beside me, beating his drum in a steady rhythm. He'd already moved on to making drums in various shapes, drumming without pause in all kinds of patterns. I couldn't help but think—High Bird has a surprisingly artistic streak.
"Pretty Eyes! This is fun! The sound is great!"
He'd been drumming away without stopping, and before I knew it, he'd crafted several different kinds of drums. There was something about him—maybe High Bird is artistic in more ways than one.
"But how do we use this to drive away the Thundering Earth?"
"We'll take them, multiple people, and charge at the Thundering Earth while screaming and beating the drums."
"…Pretty Eyes. If you're going to die, die alone."
"…."
Well, if that's all he says, even I can see it's a crazy idea. By modern standards, it's like charging a tank while screaming at it.
But the biggest difference between a tank and an elephant is that elephants have feelings.
"No matter how angry the Thundering Earth gets, the leader has to protect the group. You can't risk lives."
The biggest reason elephants attack people right now is that they don't perceive humans as a threat. I don't know why, but no matter how angry they get, the leader can never put anything above the survival of the group.
Because the leader's role is to sacrifice himself if necessary to protect the group.
"Think about it. A group of people, smoking, beating drums, waving tools that make animal-like sounds, advancing on them."
That sight would be incredibly noisy, and no one could help feeling intimidated. Especially elephants, whose hearing and sense of smell are so keen.
"…Yeah, that would definitely be very scary."
"Right? If they get scared and retreat, that's best. Even if they just stop, that's an opportunity for us. Because it lets them know we're a threat."
I said that, gazing at the ten drums and twenty bullroarers. Bullroarers were so easy to make that, judging by the way others had been copying Mother's, the actual number was probably higher than this.
"But who's that one over there?"
"You, me… Mother? Maybe Father too?"
At my words, High Bird folded his fingers one by one and held them out to me.
"Still not enough."
His two hands were spread open, showing six fingers.
"So we'll have to gather more from now on."
"How…? Pretty Eyes, in this world, there's no one who wants to die."
At High Bird's worried question, I let out a low laugh.
"Just watch."
Let me show you what it means to be a people of spirit.
The leader of the Black Foot group, a Homo erectus named Black Foot, sighed as usual today.
"…Is this all there is?"
"…Yes, that's all."
In front of him were the foods the group would eat today. But they were hardly plentiful—
A few fish, a handful of shellfish, several half-dried root chunks stuck together.
Not nearly enough for a group of twenty.
"It's not enough. This will barely keep us alive."
At his sigh-laden words, the gatherers who had been on the foraging mission scratched their heads.
"We can't get to the grasslands because of the Thundering Earth. It's hard to find food. No fish visible in the lake, and the ground with shellfish has already been picked clean."
It had only been three days since the elephants had blocked the grasslands, and already the rich food supply of Arti was laid bare. In just three days, the abundance had vanished.
Black Foot could only sigh again. There was too little to eat. If they left, the severe dry season meant other lands would be parched too. It was obvious that on such dry ground, finding even edible roots would be like catching stars from the sky. They couldn't leave, and they couldn't stay—truly a hopeless situation.
'What do we do now…'
For the leader who bore the responsibility of feeding and protecting the group, sighs were all he had.
And then—
Thump thump thump! Thump thwump thump!!
A sound he had never heard in his life. At first glance it sounded like distant thunder, yet it also reminded him of the sound of knapping stone tools.
The source of that sound was none other than the place where the fire burned without dying out.
At the sound, not only Black Foot but everyone nearby turned their heads one by one.
"What is that sound?"
"Don't know. It's coming from where the fire is."
"Is Pretty Eyes doing something strange again?"
When someone muttered that, Black Foot furrowed his brow without realizing it.
Pretty Eyes.
The moment he heard that name, a premonition of ill omen flashed through his mind.
That young male was strange. His age was young, but his actions were stranger than those of any old leader, and sometimes he seemed to know the world like a beast that had lived for ages.
Attaching wood to stone.
Handling fire at will.
Making bones that made impossible sounds.
And now, making strange sounds again.
Thump! Thump! Thwump! Thump thump thump!
But there was something odd about it.
It was definitely a sound he'd never heard before.
It wasn't so much frightening as it was strangely stirring—like something deep inside his body was being touched.
His heart seemed to move in time with the sound.
Thump! Thump! Thwump! Thump!
Black Foot's toes tapped before he even realized it.
"…."
And the moment he caught himself doing it, he hastily stopped.
A leader couldn't be tapping his toes to such strange sounds.
"Let's go."
Black Foot said curtly, and the group members beside him nodded. With so little food available, if such strange sounds were coming from somewhere, they had to check. Maybe Pretty Eyes had found something edible again.
So Black Foot and several group members headed for the place where the fire burned. There, many people had already gathered.
And in the center—
Thump! Thump! Thwump!!
There was Pretty Eyes.
Thump! Thump! Thwump thwump!!
Pretty Eyes was beating something strange in his hand with a stick, shaking his head wildly. His whole body was shaking, his shoulders were shaking, and honestly, he looked disturbingly excited.
Beside him, someone who looked like a forest-dweller was shaking their body with a slightly awkward motion, beating something in their hand in the same way.
And around him, people were beating whatever Pretty Eyes beat, and others who held the strange sound-making bones Pretty Eyes had made were all swaying their bodies.
And in that moment—
"Eol-su!"
When Pretty Eyes shouted that, the people swaying their bodies around him all swung the bones in their hands at once.
WooooooOOOOOONG!!!
Black Foot flinched without realizing it. It was nothing like when just one was swung. When many were swung at once, the sound was like a swarm of insects, and also like the howling of animals far away.
It was as if the wind caught the sound and swept over their heads. And in the midst of that strange wailing, Pretty Eyes laughed more joyfully and beat his drum.
Thump! Drorrrak! Thump!
Thump! Drorrrak! Thump thump!
"Eol-su!"
"…Eol-su!"
"Eol-su!"
At first only Pretty Eyes shouted. Then High Bird followed. And soon, others around them began to awkwardly echo the sound.
Eol-su.
They didn't know what it meant. But strangely, it stuck to their mouths. Short. Loud. When shouted, it felt like the chest was being torn open.
Then one of the group members beside Black Foot nudged him.
"Leader."
"What."
"Why are you shaking your butt?"
"Hm?"
Black Foot only then looked down at his own body. He had been standing perfectly still. Leader-like, with a very heavy and serious expression, watching this strange spectacle.
But strangely—
His toes were tapping much faster than before, and his knees were repeating a very slight bend and straighten.
And his butt—
"…."
Was swaying.
Very slightly. But definitely.
Black Foot hastily straightened his back.
"I wasn't swaying."
"You were swaying."
"I wasn't."
"Leader, you swayed a lot."
The group members around him nodded one by one.
Thump! Thump! Thwump!
The sound rose again, and Black Foot's toes moved once more. He gritted his teeth.
Stop it. I am the leader. I am Black Foot. I am not swaying to such strange sounds—
"Eol-su!"
The voices around him grew louder and louder.
The drumbeat struck the belly. The bone cries wrapped around their heads. Smoke from the fire lay low, and people's shadows trembled. Black Foot finally squeezed his eyes shut.
And he thought:
'Agh, I don't know.'
The drum sound rose again.
Thump! Thump! Thwump!
WooooooOOOOOONG!!!
In that moment, Black Foot shouted loudly.
"Eol-su!!!"
After playing for a long while, I noticed the sun was slowly sinking. I set down the drum and caught my breath. The people who had gathered around began clapping one by one.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Strangely, for them, clapping was a tool of surprise and praise. When a hunt succeeded. When someone did something brave. Or when they saw something that stirred the heart, like just now.
They happily met their palms, each in their own way.
I waited until the clapping began to die down, then stepped in front of the drum and raised my voice.
"I am Pretty Eyes, child of White Wind and Quick Foot!"
Thump!
The moment my words ended, High Bird beat his drum as if adding a cymbal crash.
I glanced at him for a moment.
High Bird had a sheepish expression as he lowered his hand. …Well, the timing was good. I honestly thought it was a little cool.
I looked back at the people and continued.
"The Thundering Earth has blocked the grasslands."
At those words, the smiles on people's faces faded little by little. Those who had been swaying with excitement just moments ago, those who had even made Black Foot sway his butt—
Their eyes returned to reality.
The grasslands. That place was like the granary of this land. Even in the dry season, green grass remained. Animals gathered along the grass, and we hunted them to fill our bellies. Fish and shellfish from the lake alone weren't enough. Roots and fruit from the forest weren't enough either.
If the grasslands were blocked, we would starve.
"No one has died yet. But that won't last long."
A murmur rose.
"The Thundering Earth is big."
"If we go near it, we'll get trampled."
"We can't go to the grasslands until they leave."
Those words weren't wrong. Elephants are huge, fast, and strong. If stepped on by one, a human's bones would shatter like dry twigs.
But—
"So we have to drive them away."
I lifted the drumstick.
"We're not going to fight to the death. We're not going to test strength against the Thundering Earth."
The people looked at me. Uncertainty and doubt. And a very small hope.
Those gazes all pierced me at once.
"We are weaker than the Thundering Earth."
I said that deliberately, word by word.
"But we know the Thundering Earth can be afraid."
In that moment, a ripple went through the crowd again.
"The Thundering Earth is afraid?"
"The Thundering Earth fears nothing."
That was the obvious reaction. The elephants they had seen were always a massive wall. An angry mountain. A monster that shook the ground just by approaching.
But monsters live in herds. Animals that live in herds must protect the herd. The leader must protect the group. Must protect the young. Must protect the old.
"The leader Thundering Earth must protect the herd. Must protect the young. Must protect the old. So when faced with an unknown danger, it stops."
I tapped the drum lightly.
Thump.
"Big. Noisy. Strange."
Thump.
"Smoking. Making sounds. Charging all at once."
Thump.
"If it feels that might hurt them, the Thundering Earth will retreat."
When I finished speaking, the people's expressions grew more complicated. Faces that wanted to believe. Faces that couldn't. Faces that thought, that strange kid is up to something again.
I smirked.
Yeah. Words alone aren't enough. Whether it's the primitive era or the modern era, the core of a presentation is a live demonstration.
"You there! You! And you! Step forward!"
I called out the ones who had been drumming at the gathering, and those who had been swinging bullroarers.
They glanced at each other nervously as they stepped forward. They'd been swaying with excitement moments ago, but now that they were standing in front of everyone, their faces had stiffened.
"Don't be scared. There's no Thundering Earth right now."
I said that, then positioned the people with bullroarers in the front row. Behind them, I lined up the drummers. And at the very back, I placed those holding wet grass for making smoke.
"When I beat the drum, we advance one step at a time."
The people awkwardly nodded.
"Step together. Sound loud. Make your faces ugly."
"Ugly?"
"As ugly as possible."
"…That's easy."
Someone answered seriously. I glanced at him for a moment.
Well, there was no need to be that confident. But right now, the atmosphere was what mattered.
I raised the drumstick high.
And brought it down with all my strength.
Thump!
A short, heavy sound rang through the air. At the same time, those at the front began swinging their bullroarers.
WooooooOOOOOONG!!!
At first, it was clumsy. The sounds were all different, and their steps were slightly out of sync. Someone beat the drum too fast, and someone swung the bullroarer and almost hit their own head.
But even that clumsiness created a strangely overwhelming sense of menace.
Thump! Thump! Thump thump!
WooooooOOOOOONG!
Thump thump thump thump thump!
The drumbeat hammered the air. The bullroarer cries circled overhead. When wet grass was thrown onto the unquenchable fire, acrid smoke began to blanket everything.
I shouted.
"One step!"
Thud!
They advanced together.
"Another step!"
Thud!
This time they matched a little better.
The drum. The cries. The smoke. The distorted faces. The shadows of people rushing forward all at once.
When all of it combined, the faces of the onlookers who had been laughing just moments ago hardened.
"Uwaaaah!"
"Uwaaaaaah!"
"Eol-suuuu!"
The last one was a bit off in direction, but the momentum was good.
As they advanced another step, the people standing in front instinctively retreated. One person retreated, and the person beside them was pushed back. That person retreated, and the people behind them stumbled backward too.
Eventually, the front row of spectators was pushed back as a whole.
I confirmed that sight, then raised the drumstick.
Thump!
The drum stopped with the last beat. The bullroarer cries faded. Only the smoke lingered low near the ground.
The people said nothing for a long while. I opened my mouth slowly in the silence.
"See?"
Someone swallowed dryly. I pointed the drumstick toward the direction of the grasslands.
"This is how we'll drive away the Thundering Earth."