When Women Rule the World

Umma

Sighting

The tribe moved slowly, forming a row across the steppe. The chief, always at the front, walked with his eyes fixed on the horizon, carrying his weapons: two acacia wood spears with flint tips bound with hemp fibres, another two made of yew wood, two sharp knives crafted from buffalo ribs, and a pair of hand axes also made of flint.

The man immediately behind him marched at a short distance, carrying similar gear and dragging a heavy bundle of hides with some belongings. Beyond them, three women walked in single file, though close together. All three held babies in one arm, while with the other hand they held onto other children. Following them were two young women without children, and the emaciated procession was closed by three men, two of whom were engaged in conversation.

There could be a distance of about one hundred steps between the chief and the last individual. The midday sun beat down mercilessly on their heads, causing them to take off their hides and tie them around their waists. All individuals were marching naked except for their loincloths; even the women, save one that remained dressed despite the heat.

Vultures circled above in silence, sensing the tribe's imminent demise. Only the cries of the children seemed to disturb the stillness of the summer afternoon.

However, they were not alone. Up there, on the pinnacle of the rocky spire shaped by the wind over ages, two other men watched them closely.

"It's Samman. I have no doubt," one of them said, while the other nodded.

"Why have they returned?" the latter asked.

"They found no game, Tabal. The southern lands must be even more dry."

The two fell silent for a moment and continued observing.

"Why are they so scattered? If wild beasts attacked them, they'd be lost."

"They're exhausted," replied Unnum. "They don't care anymore. Better to die quickly than be devoured by hunger and thirst."

The boy watched the tribe's slow and listless walk, and the bowed heads confirmed what the leader had said. He added, "I don't think they'll make it to the next moon if they don't find water."

"Uh-huh," he nodded. "But they'll find it! They're heading straight for our well. Let's go!"

"Where to?"

"To kill that bastard once and for all."

"Why, Unnum? You could make peace with him. The more men we have, the better chance we have to survive. Wouldn't it be better to merge with them?"

"Come on!" the chief insisted, and Tabal had no choice but to comply.

The two ran towards the rest of the tribe, and the young boy, more sensible than his leader, couldn't help but think about the mistake it would be to fight those men. Not because of the risk of defeat, as they outnumbered them, but because it was more advantageous to increase the tribe's numbers at a time when they had already lost many members. The larger the clan, the greater the chances of survival in a world teeming with wild beasts, and also the better and more effective ways to corner prey.

But no, Unnum couldn't forgive his brother for that offense, and now he saw the perfect opportunity to settle the score. Tabal kept running, but he couldn't stop looking around. Now they were crossing a small acacia forest, the same one they had passed through when they reached that summit. Tigers with sabre-toothed teeth often lurked in those places, and his hunter instinct told him there might be one around. Venturing there alone was a reckless move, and it made him think again about the wisdom of merging with those people. When beasts attacked, if there was no fire, it was best to stick together like a tight group, with children in the centre well-covered, and pound the ground and scream loudly to make the animal think they were a single individual and believe it couldn't succeed in an attack. It was a strategy that almost invariably worked, even against multiple attackers. All they had to do was stay united until they reached a high place or a cave.