Collected Historical Stories

By Paul Morrison

COLLECTED HISTORICAL STORIES is a worldly voyage to the distant past and its rich and magical cultures, which together form an impressive historic mosaic. Through the pages of these fourteen fictional stories the author crosses the subtle boundaries of reality, transporting the reader into past worlds long lost in time. Whether in the pages of THE MAMMOTH HUNTERS, an epic of survival in the ice age of 30,000 years ago; the mystery of solving A FIRST MURDER in the Ancient Egypt of Ramesses II; the saga of THE ODIN LAND SAGA in the more recent history of the New World; or discovering stolen pirate plunder in THE GOLDEN MAN, the reader is magically transported to long-lost cultures, becoming witness to endless chronicles and breath-taking events. The exciting short stories and novellas in this collection offer the chance to grab a little knowledge of history as well as enjoying the adventure of the past. Fascinating, intriguing and not to be missed!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Morrison
• Release date: Jul 2, 2013
• ISBN: 9781925074017

Paul Morrison

Paul Morrison, a retired museologist, has also been a writer for most of his life. “I cannot remember a time when I was not writing, even when I was five or six years old. I grew up with books such as TREASURE ISLAND, 20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA and THE TIME MACHINE — these and the many other books which I read in my early years fed my imagination, a voracious imagination transporting me to faraway places, other worlds and to other times in both the recent and the more distant past...” Many of these worlds and places are visited in the novels and short story collections he has written.Besides a love of fiction, Paul also reads widely on ancient history and archaeology. “I am particularly interested in Ancient Egypt, mainly Old Kingdom Egypt during the age of the pyramid builders. I have always been intrigued as to how the pyramids were built and also about the lives of the pharaohs and the workers who constructed the pyramids. There were many questions filling my mind, but few if any answers.” This inquiring interest led to the GIZA TRILOGY books, THE PHARAOH, THE SPHINX and THE THREE QUEENS, a monumental work of well-researched fiction set against the backdrop of the three pyramids on the Giza Plateau. Together, with their associated books, THE DIVINE LIGHT, ETERNAL EGYPT (Supplement to the Giza Trilogy), and SECRET OF THE PYRAMID, these books total more than 1.3 million words! Other books written by Paul cover a wide range of subjects including historical fiction, science fiction, ghost and detective stories as well as many other genres.Paul currently lives in Hobart, Tasmania with his wife in a house overlooking the Derwent River. “The magnificent views of Hobart and Mount Wellington inspire me in my writings — but the most important inspiration is my wife, Helena.”

Book preview

IT WAS TIME. Ato could sense it in the air. He took a deep breath and looked out again across the broad valley that stretched far below. After he had carefully studied the valley with his hunter’s eyes he looked up.

In the distance, he could see the white caps of the glacier reaching into the northern end of the valley. The glacier was like the hand of an invisible giant, a hand which over the millenniums had forced Ato’s people further south until they could go no further. The tribal elders thought of the glacier as the frozen breath of the gods, but to Ato it was something evil — a white slithering snake gradually devouring the land.

It was time. As he turned his attention back to the valley far below, Ato could see the emergence of the land through the brown patches in the thin layers of melting snow. It gave the valley a strange appearance, like the motley skin of a very old man. The melting snow fed into many small trickles that ran along the floor of the valley. Within weeks, the frozen valley would be transformed into a different world and it would be time for Ato’s people to abandon their winter refuge.

The trickle would become a raging river sweeping through the valley and into the lands beyond; the sides of the valley would be covered with lush green grass; and the trees along the high ridges of the valley would open up into thick green foliage, to become nesting places for the many flocks of birds flying up from the south. The land, empty, cold and hostile only a few weeks before, would come to life again as the vast animal herds followed the river to the rich grazing lands along the sides of the valley. Many different herds would come on this long journey, but there was only one which Ato and his people anticipated.

The members of this herd had been carefully painted on the walls of the cave in which Ato’s tribe had spent the long winter months. The tribal elders had carefully supervised these paintings to make sure they were correct in every detail, for the survival of the tribe depended on the magic of these paintings. This magic would deliver the herds into the spears of the hunters and the tribe would eat well in the coming months. Satisfied it was time and that the mammoth herds would soon be making their way into the valley, Ato returned to the cave to tell the others.

We will send the hunters out in the morning, said old Buppa, the leader of the tribe. He remembered the previous two hunting seasons when the woodland tribe at the far entrance to the valley had taken the choice and largest of the mammoths. He was sure that the woodlanders were purposely depleting the mammoth herds in order to starve Buppa’s people and then to take their lands.

It will take us three days to reach the entrance to the valley, said Ato.

Buppa thought carefully about this — care would have to be taken not to offend the woodland people who, by some ancient law of the land had first choice to the hunting territories in the lower part of the valley. The woodland people were more numerous and it would be dangerous to offend them. Buppa’s people would have to be very cautious.

There is a small ridge that rises up suddenly far down the valley, near the river, said Buppa. On the other side of the river there is a swamp. The herds will be forced to the side of the river where the ridge stands and where there is a narrow pass between the ridge and the river.

This will be a good place to ambush the herds, replied Ato, studying the empty salt pits dug into the floor of the cave. The meat from the hunt would be brought back and stored in these pits.

You must be careful, Buppa cautioned. The herds will be more dangerous in the narrow confines between the ridge and the river. Many seasons ago when I was a young hunter, we ambushed a herd in a similar place. The old man stroked the scar running down the side of his chest. The beasts stampeded and turned on us. We lost several hunters and when winter came, many more, the old and the young were also lost through the hunger of a wasted hunt. You are a wise and brave hunter Ato — promise me you will be careful.

We will keep to the ridge and be careful, Ato promised. The ridge will also give us protection from the woodlanders if they should decide to attack us.

"The woodland tribe will not attack, replied old Buppa, using his wisdom from previous hunts. They will dig their traps and pits further along the river and where the valley begins to widen out onto the grassy plains beyond."

Ato seemed satisfied with Buppa’s plan.

Who will lead the hunt? he enquired.

The law of the tribe decrees it will be a contest between Grup and yourself. The one who alone kills the largest of the beasts with his own skill will lead the future hunts. There was sadness in the old man’s words.

Ato felt sorry for old Buppa.

Since Ato was a child, Buppa had led the hunts and through his wisdom the tribe had survived. These had been happy times and the rich and colourful paintings on the walls of the cave reflected these happy times. Now, by his own words, Buppa had condemned himself to death. He would not be there when Ato returned from the hunt.

It was the law of the tribe — for the ancients in their strange wisdom had long ago decreed that a leader too old to hunt could not stay with the tribe to influence the new leader in the ways of the hunt. The old leader would have to leave the tribe. There could be no conflict between the old and the new. Ato thought this cruel and unforgiving. Starvation and death would be Buppa’s final reward for the years of faithful leadership to his people — it was tribal ritual.

Buppa placed his hand on Ato’s shoulder. There is work to be done. I will help the others prepare the magic for the hunt. I know it will be a good and a successful hunt.

Ato watched as the old man picked up a piece of wood from a nearby fire and then disappeared into the darker recesses of the cave. It was in these dark and mysterious recesses, the galleries at the far end of the cave with their walls decorated with pictures of the hunt, where the hunt would begin. The magic of these hidden chambers would be bestowed upon Ato and the other hunters, a bonding that would give the hunters the strength of the young, the wisdom of the old and the patience of the women. The women... Ato’s thoughts turned to Ursa.

They say it will be a long hunt, said Ursa a short time later, as she prepared the evening meal of skinned lizard in a corner of the cave where she and Ato slept.

Buppa has a plan to fill our pits with meat. This time it will be the woodlanders who will feel the hunger of the long winter months, and Ato then went on to explain Buppa’s plan. Ursa listened closely.

A contest between Grup and yourself? she asked when Ato had finished. There was fear in her voice. Ato though, only laughed.

It will decide who will lead the future hunts. There is nothing to be afraid of — it is merely a contest between the two best hunters in the tribe.

Grup is ruthless and will do anything to win. We all know how treacherous and cruel he can be. Why would Buppa elect such a man to take part in this contest?

Grup is many things, replied Ato. He is also a good hunter and our people will need a good hunter to feed them in the seasons when the herds from the south move into the valley. The contest is part of the tribal ritual.

Ursa was not convinced that it would be a mere contest.

He will trick you into losing and besides, there is the danger from the beasts. A beast can take several hunters to kill it, and yet, you are expected to kill the largest of the beasts alone. What if you should be hurt, or even...

Ato laughed once more, drawing Ursa closer to him.

I am the best hunter in the tribe now that Buppa is old and half blind. There is nothing to be afraid of. I will defeat Grup and the beast I kill will be the largest in the herd. I have already made special plans to win the contest and there will be no danger. As he spoke these words, Ato glanced away to hide from Ursa’s searching eyes the doubts in his own eyes. Ato had no special plan and deep within his mind, he had the same fears as Ursa.

What is your plan? she asked suddenly. Ato hesitated, rubbing the earthen soil of the cave with his hand as if trying to draw strength from it. He did not want to deceive Ursa and before he could reply, the end of the conversation was signalled by the loud beating of a drum.

In the corners of the cave there was movement. The other members of the tribe, individuals, couples and families were making their way to the painted galleries deep within the cave. Ursa flicked the strips of lizard meat from the hot coals of the fire with a stone knife and they were quickly eaten. Ato then collected his hunting weapons and together they followed the others into the Great Chamber of the Beast — a large room of the cave that was the very heart of the tribe’s culture — for it was here that the fortunes and perhaps the survival of the tribe itself would be decided.

A large fire burned in the middle of the Great Chamber of the Beast. The light from this fire lit the walls of the room revealing in its flickering glow the herds of mammoth painted on these walls. The marching herds symbolised the animals to be killed in the coming hunt, for each beast slain on the walls of the cave represented an identical beast to be killed by the hunters in the valley below. The drum continued to beat, the heart-beat of the mammoth and then it suddenly stopped.

In the far end of the chamber, two mammoth tusks of immense size formed an archway over a narrow and darkened recess. The attention of those assembled were turned to this recess from which echoed the bellowing sound of the beast. Ursa held Ato’s arm tightly. Even though she knew the familiar ceremony from the previous seasons it still frightened her. After a few moments, old Buppa appeared from the dark recess dressed in his hunter’s clothes. He was leading a young mammoth, one which had been captured as a baby the previous hunting season and had been well looked after by the tribal elders.

This is a good sign, Ato whispered to Ursa. He remembered the previous years when the captive baby mammoths had died in the care of the elders. The hunting seasons had been poor ones and the tribe had suffered.

Buppa led the young mammoth past those assembled, each touching it with their hand. The hair of the mammoth, usually coarse and tangled was finer and well-brushed. The elders had done their work well. The young mammoth was not frightened by the crowd of humans because it had lived amongst the people for a year and their scent was now familiar. It associated the human scent with the care the elders had bestowed on it — warmth, companionship and food. Only the flickering flames of the fire made it uneasy, for somewhere deep in its mind, it may have remembered the distant death of its mother by the fire trap and the spears of the very same hunters who now stood before it.

It is time, said Buppa as he stood with the young mammoth before the paintings on the wall. It is time for the herds to return and it is time for the hunters to pick up their spears and to shake off the sleep of the winter months.

At these words, Ato and the other hunters stepped forward and raised their spears in acknowledgement that their sleep was indeed ended and that they were ready for the hunt. Satisfied, Buppa moved slowly forward, climbing some stone steps and onto a raised platform. He tied the young mammoth to a wooden stake and carefully stroked and spoke to the animal with gentle words. There was silence throughout the chamber as all watched, waiting for the moment only Buppa himself knew would come — the moment when the gods of the valley would speak to him and he would act.

The fire flickered and crackled. There was the sound of excited breathing and the fidgeting of the smaller children. Ursa glanced towards Ato but he was staring at the largest of the beasts painted on the nearby wall. Buppa continued to whisper to the young mammoth. The shadows in the cave lengthened as the fire began to diminish and coldness crept through the chamber — and then Buppa’s whispering stopped. There was silence.

"Aeeeee!"

In an instant, the flint knife was raised and came sweeping down into the side of the animal’s neck. But Buppa had misjudged his blow and though the knife struck into the neck of the young mammoth and it was bleeding heavily, the knife blow had missed the main artery which would have brought a speedy death to the animal. With a mighty bellow that echoed throughout the chamber, the mammoth lunged forward ripping out the wooden stake.

Buppa jumped from the platform just as the young mammoth lashed out at him with its trunk. Ato, standing nearby grabbed Ursa and held her close to the wall of the chamber that was their only protection. People were running in panic as the mammoth stampeded down the steps of the platform and into the chamber itself, but Ato held Ursa closer, protecting her with his own body. The bellowing and screaming continued. Then Ato suddenly remembered the spear he had dropped when he had reached out to protect Ursa. As he knelt down to pick it up, he saw Grup and some of the other hunters moving forward with their own spears.

It is forbidden! Buppa suddenly called out to them as he picked himself up from the bottom of the platform. The hunters hesitated and then lowered their spears, realising that only old Buppa could sacrifice the mammoth. It was tribal ritual.

The loss of blood had weakened the young mammoth and its movement was now slow. The animal was breathing heavily and its anger had turned to one of confusion and fear. This confusion and fear drew its attention to the diminishing fire in the middle of the chamber as it paused to remember the fire trap and the death of its mother.

The brief distraction was all that Buppa needed. He picked up a spear dropped by one of the hunters and moved forward, advancing on the terrified beast from behind. The spear was raised and then with both hands, he plunged it forward into the side of the neck of the young mammoth. There was a short, tortured bellowing and the mammoth collapsed. It was dead — sacrificed to the tribal ritual. Buppa held the bloodied spear high above his head for all to see and then he threw it into the dying fire. The flames would cleanse the spear and protect Buppa from the spirit of the sacred but now dead mammoth.

It is time! he called out. The hunters stepped forward and held their spears up before them.

The elders began to chant the song of the hunt and the women and children took up the song. Its words echoed through the corridors of the cave, as if the mountain itself was singing the hunters’ song. Ato and his companions were now caught up in the frenzy as they thrust their spears into the motionless body of the young mammoth. The blood spilled onto their spears and flowed across the floor of the chamber. Finally, all were exhausted by their frenzied actions and once more a silence descended throughout the chamber.

Buppa now turned and made his departure through the mammoth tusk archway. He was followed by the other tribal elders. The fire was finally extinguished and the chamber returned to darkness as the people slowly made their way back to the living quarters at the entrance to the cave.

A woman hesitated as she called out the name of her child. When there was no answer, she began to wail uncontrollably before being dragged from the chamber. Only the young child remained in the now darkened and empty chamber, trampled to death in the confusion and the panic of a ceremony that had gone terribly wrong in the Great Chamber of the Beast. It was a bad omen with which to begin the hunt and this bad omen had not gone unnoticed by old Buppa.

2. THE HUNT BEGINS

Before the first rays of morning light had touched the eastern rim of the valley, the hunters were preparing for their long journey. The women hurried to cook the morning meal, while the children helped gather up the hunting weapons. Ato and his group of hunters stood on one side of the entrance to the cave with Grup and his followers waited on the other side. Far below them in the valley, the morning mist was slowly dispersing. The two groups waited in silence until finally word arrived from Kula, the tribal elder in charge of the preparations for the hunt.

The spirit god has revealed his plan, said old Kula who had prepared the hunt for more than twenty seasons and was second only in wisdom to Buppa.

Ato and Grup now followed after the old man with the twisted back and deformed leg, legacies of past hunts. Kula led them up a steep rocky path to a moss-covered ledge high above the cave entrance where Buppa was waiting for them.

The spirit god has come to us in the night, said Buppa. This is his plan.

On the vertical face of rock above the ledge on which they stood, red ochre lines had been carefully drawn. The lines ran in several directions, forming strange patterns. Ato and Grup studied these lines but could make no sense of them, for it seemed as if the spirit god’s plan was one of confusion — that there was no plan at all! Buppa now explained the significance of the crazy lines.

The wriggling line that looks like a snake is the river. Buppa pointed to the small trickle in the valley far below. The line which runs alongside the river is the trail you will take. Ato noticed that at one point the line left the river, moving inland in an arc before again rejoining the river. You will have to avoid the swamp, warned Buppa. He then went on to explain the other lines, carefully pointing out these lines in the distant valley far below, for the ledge on which they stood had a commanding view over the whole of the valley.

The two hunters, Ato and Grup seemed satisfied with the plan. The ochre lines showed them where to avoid the woodland tribe; the journey their own people would make to join them after the completion of the hunt, when the meat would be cut up, salted and transported back to the cave; and more importantly, the trail the herds would take when they first entered the valley. The spirit god had done its work well, although the faint tinges of ochre on Buppa’s and Kula’s hands suspiciously betrayed their assistance to this higher being.

There was an added warning from old Buppa.

You must work together in the hunt. Do not let the contest between you endanger its success. You are strong and can survive a harsh winter, but the young and the old cannot. Therefore, they must rely on the skills of the hunters.

Ato and Grup looked at each other in silence. Kula reached out and joined each of their hands with his own to bond the two hunters together. And then, as if to signal the end of the meeting, a ray of sunlight swept the ledge and announced the beginning of the new day — the first day of the hunt.

Far below the ledge and in the shadows of the cave, Ursa hurried to pack Ato’s hunting bag. Some of the other women carried from the cave small slices of meat from the sacrificed mammoth and these would be shared out equally amongst the hunters. The meat would last only the first day and then the hunters would have to find their own food. Ursa carefully packed several pieces of meat into the bag, along with a flint knife and three stone spear heads. When she had finished this packing, Ursa studied the small object in her hand and smiled. It would please Ato and bring him extra luck in the hunt. It would also protect him from any danger.

It will be a long journey to the end of the valley, Ato said to her a short time later, remembering the red ochre lines and the plan of the spirit god.

The journey will be made easier by this. Ursa handed Ato the small object.

It was a piece of ivory taken from the tusk of a mammoth. An artist of great skill had carefully etched a hunting scene on the small piece of ivory. Among the stick-like figures hunting the mammoth, there was one slightly larger than the other figures. The symbol scratched beneath this figure, a beaver sign, was the birth sign of Ato — for he had been born during the month when the beavers were busy building their dams in the river.

Buppa made the carving. He asked me to bless it and give it to you, said Ursa. It will give you courage and strength against the beasts — it will also protect you from Grup’s trickery.

Ato studied the piece of ivory with great interest and then placed it in his hunting bag. He spoke no words but glanced quietly in the direction of Grup. Would there really be such danger in the contest? Grup was laughing and talking with his companions — it would be a friendly contest for had not Buppa himself said that above all, they, Ato and Grup must work together for the survival of the tribe. Yet, he saw that Ursa was greatly worried.

We will not be away from each other for long, he told her. The women and children will join the hunters at the entrance to the valley in the second quarter of the moon.

You will keep the lucky stone with you, Ursa pleaded.

It carries Buppa’s wisdom. It would be foolish of me not to keep it close.

The drum began its beat again.

Old Buppa stood on a large fallen rock near the entrance to the cave. To attract the attention of the hunters, he held high above his head a pole carrying the totem of the tribe’s hunting society. None was stronger than the bear, none wiser, and none more ferocious in the ways of the hunt than the cave bear. It was, therefore, only fitting that the skull of such a bear should be the totem of the hunting society. The hunters quickly and eagerly gathered beneath the rock to hear Buppa’s final words.

There were twenty two hunters in the group and they made up nearly a quarter of the tribe’s number. The ten who stood with Ato were of the clan of the eagle while the ten with Grup were the clan of the fox. All were united together under the totem of the cave bear.

The spirits of the ancestor hunters will accompany you, Buppa told those standing before him. "Their wisdom and their knowledge will guide you and help make the hunt a successful one – do not fail!" He then began to chant an ancient prayer taken up by Kula and the other elders, a prayer sung at the beginning of each hunt since the dawn of time — for the tribe had existed in the valley for more than one hundred centuries.

When the ritual was completed, old Buppa gave his final blessing to Grup. He then walked over to Ato and gave him this blessing also. Buppa’s blessing to Ato, however, was hidden in whispered words and there was a hint of fear in his words.

"The hunt has begun badly. A small child was trampled and died during the sacrifice of the beast. This and the rampage of the beast has brought bad luck to the hunt. Be careful, Ato. Do not take foolish risks." Buppa sighed deeply before continuing.

It is hard for an old man to control the flames of youthful ambition and what I now say to you will be hard for you to accept. The salt pits must be filled with meat and that must be your main concern. The contest to decide the leadership of the tribe must be of lesser importance.

I will listen to your wisdom, replied Ato. "The women and children will not go hungry."

Ato collected his weapons and waved to Ursa who stood with the other women. He would miss the softness of her voice in the coming days, her fussing over him and the warmth of her body, because the nights were still cold. He would miss her companionship and her love.

Ursa watched as Ato and the other hunters began their long walk across the valley. Remember the carved ivory! she called out to him, and she saw Ato take it from his hunting bag and wave it high above his head. She watched as the hunters became distant specks and she continued watching as they faded completely from sight. Ursa remembered the times before when hunters had failed to return from the hunt. There was something she desperately wanted to tell Ato but had been afraid it would take his mind from the hunt. She felt the faint but sudden movement in her belly.

If you are a boy, she whispered, I will call you Mog, the Morning Star. If you are a girl, your name will be Ola, the Evening Star. These were the patron gods of the hunters. By offering up her unborn child to them, Ursa hoped the gods would watch over Ato. It was late in the morning when she finally stopped looking out across the empty valley...

3. OMENS

Ato had also been watching. Now and again, he would look back in the direction of the high cliff which bordered the valley. The large black hole in its side, the cave, was soon lost from view until finally, even the cliff itself appeared only as a thin distant line on the edge of the vast valley. He took the small piece of ivory from his hunting bag and its presence made him feel safe, for it reminded him of Ursa.

The river is much wider! The voice was suddenly calling out from far ahead. Ato saw Grup and some of his Fox Clan hunters standing on a cluster of rocks at the edge of the raging river. They were looking at the other side of the river.

The winter snows are melting too quickly, said Ato, when he finally climbed the rocks to join them.

Along the sides of the valley the melting snows were feeding into numerous creeks, which in turn, were feeding the swiftly growing river. The band of hunters hurried along the edge of the river, stopping only to ford the ankle deep creeks flowing down the steep sides of the valley and into the widening river. Finally, Ato called the hunters together to discuss their situation. In the years of the hunt, none had seen the snows melt so early or the river grow so quickly, for the river had always been a trickle that could be safely crossed in only a few minutes. The hunters huddled together to discuss their situation.

We must return and cross the white breath of the gods, (the glacier) to the other side of the valley, one of the hunters suggested.

This will add another six days to the hunt, replied Ato.

They will call us weak and frightened, added Grup, for he was more concerned with his hunter’s pride than the danger they now faced from the rising river. The easier glacier trail would be taken by the women and children to join the hunt in the later stages.

We can hunt only on this side of the valley, suggested another, but this was immediately rejected by the more experienced hunters.

The steep sides of the valley will have little grazing and therefore, very little game. The flat plain on the other side of the river will be where the beast herds will gather.

We must continue to follow the river, said Ato finally. There will be somewhere we can cross, perhaps where the river narrows or where there are fallen boulders or a tree. The other hunters began to follow Ato until Grup suddenly called for them to stop.

Why do you fear the river? shouted Grup, angered that the hunters were now following Ato. We are the society of the cave bear and a bear is not frightened by a mere river. A young hunter, only a boy suddenly jumped forward to take up the challenge.

I will cross the river, he cried out. Before Ato could stop him, the boy had entered the raging waters.

The other hunters waved their spears, shouting their encouragement to the boy — only Ato remained silent. The boy succeeded in reaching the middle of the river by using his spear to steady himself against the swiftly flowing waters. The water continued to rise, but the boy struggled on until soon he was nearly across to the other side. Then he suddenly stopped. I cannot move my legs, he called back. I cannot breathe! The icy, snow-fed waters had succeeded where the strength of the river had failed.

Ato hurried into the river to help him. The immediate coldness of its waters surprised him and within moments, he was also struggling against the numbness and the cold. He could see the boy was losing the last of his strength to the river, for the boy’s eyes were closed and he was sinking into the river, his legs slowly giving way from under him. The surging water was now up to the boy’s chin. Ato reached out to him with his spear.

Grab it! I will drag you back to the shore.

The boy opened his eyes for an instant and struggled to lift his arm from the water. The fingers of his hand reached out for the spear. He grabbed hold of it and then as quickly, the desperate grip was released as the last of his strength was carried away by the icy river. Within an instant, he was gone. The others hurried along the shore after the boy as Ato dragged his own exhausted body from the river.

The hunters soon stopped their chase. As Ato looked back into the surging waters of the river he felt a sudden fear and then doubt. The omens were against them! The mammoth sacrifice had gone terribly wrong, and