By Kate Sarah
All living creatures in the valley of Dzan-gri knew that there lived no God invisible, no man superior. These people were gullible farmers who ate what they sowed; women who knew the art of weaving grew their own cotton. No stranger was ever welcome to their land. They knew that the Sun was tied to the earth and it swung across the sky but it was afraid of the Moon and her army of stars so it hid when the night shrouded the sky.
Like this glorious ball of fire, these people also knew terror. They had built high walls around the opening pass of the mountain with timber and Sal logs meticulously tied by a raw bamboo rope. The wide river separated their land from invasion, so they gave their first crops to the river as an offering of gratitude to the river spirit.
Decades ago, a vicious tribe beyond the seven mountains had attacked the village, killing men and abducting young women to be their mates. The village Chief lost his first wife, his daughters and his right arm to those savages who considered killing an unarmed man a sin. The chief bore no resentment but there was a fear deep inside his heart that kept him alive. He had seen his brothers butchered by these men who fought against every weapon-bearing man.
Who were these men?
These men belonged to a tribe known as Moon Children.
The council of tribes in the valley feared these men. There was no help from the council who comprised of foragers and fishermen. They were all too scared to wage war against the Moon Children who had inhuman strength and practised occult. They worshipped the moon and only travelled during the full moon nights, guided by their seer mother, Xmei. They were violent and plundered the fields of their opponent. They were the only tribe in the entire seven mountains who had mastered the art of wielding iron out of the earth. The other tribes living in the valley and at the foothills used primitive weapons like sharp stones, while these Moon Children carried a spear made out of the iron head and a razor-sharp axe that could chop the head of its opponent in one single blow.
After the ruthless defeat quarter-century ago, the village chief had decided to guard the valley well. He did not train his men for he knew the Moon Children killed men who bore weapons. However, their hands were already sturdy with the use of yoke, unbeknownst to the Chief, his men had kept sharp stones in case of any unwelcome visit. These simple people of the valley dreaded when a son was born, but the parents wept aloud whenever a daughter was given to them.
A new custom took shape with the birth of many beautiful daughters. Three kinds of groups sprung up, following different practises.
Whenever a girl child was born, one group coloured their daughters’ faces with soot. This practice was to make them less attractive, however, their colour stood out exotic for the tribal men. It was believed that the Moon Children only abducted the fairest women in the village.
The second group fed their daughters buffalo and goat milk to make them plump and strong. These children grew up to become sturdy women. The Moon Children’s men, who were supposedly strong, only abducted women who weighed less.
The third group which was the Chief’s family, scarred their daughter’s faces when they were born. Some children couldn’t survive the cut whereas some who survived healed but the Chief was adamant. While his kin had an army of daughters with a different mark on their faces, he had one daughter whom he loved; she received wide scars on her face, one in infancy and the other when she turned a teenager.
