The girl said, "They have three tommy guns, four automatic rifles,
twenty grenades and forty sticks of dynamite."
Vivian was impatient. "They had them, now they're ours. It's good, not
bad."
Jean said doggedly, "These raids are coming more and more often. We've
lost ten fighters in less than a year. And each time they come at us
they're better equipped and there're more of them." She looked over at
Alan. "If it hadn't been for this ... this queer way things worked out,
they'd have our husband now and we'd be done for."
"Well, it didn't happen that way," Vivian said abruptly, "and we still
have our husband and we're going to keep him. This wasn't a bad action
at all. They killed three of us, we've got more than forty of them."
"Not three, eight," Jean said. "You forget the five girls. In another
couple of years they'd have been warriors. And besides, what difference
does it make if we've got forty of them? There're always more of them
where they came from. There must be a thousand women toward Denver
without a husband between them."
Vivian quieted. "Let's hope they don't all decide on Alan at once," she
said. "I wonder if the Turtles are having the same trouble."
"They're having more," Alan said. He had lowered himself wearily into
one of the chairs.
The two warriors looked at him. "How do you know, sweetie?" Vivian
asked him.
"I was talking to Warren, a few weeks ago. He's husband of the Turtle
clan now, they traded him from the Foxes. Both clans were getting too
interbred...."
"Get to the point, honey," Jean said, embarrassed at this man talk.
"The Turtles are having more trouble than we are. They have a stronger
natural fortress at the center of their farm lands, but they've had so
many raids that their arsenal is depleted and half their warriors dead
or wounded. They're getting desperate."
"That's too bad," Vivian muttered. "They make good neighbors."
Jean said, "The matriarch told me to let you know there'd be a meeting
this afternoon in the assembly hall. Clan meeting, all present."
"What about?" Vivian said, her attention going back to the beauty of
her captured weapon again.
"About the prisoners. We've got to decide what to do with them."
"Do with them? We'll push them over the side of the canyon. Nobody
thought we'd waste bullets on them did they?"
Alan said, mildly, "The question has come up whether we ought to
destroy them at all."
Vivian looked at him in gentle annoyance. "Sweetie," she said, "don't
bother your handsome head with these things. You've had enough
excitement to last a nice looking fellow like you a lifetime."
Jean said, echoing her chief's disgust, "Anyway, that's what the
meeting is about. Alan, here, has been talking to the matriarch and
she's agreed to bring it up for discussion."
Vivian said nastily, "Sally is beginning to lose her grip. If there's
anything a clan needs it's a strong matriarch."
"A wise matriarch," Alan amended, knowing he shouldn't.
Vivian stared at him for a moment, then threw her head back and
laughed. "I'm going to have to spank your bottom one of these days,"
she told him. "You get awfully sassy for a man."
* * * * *
As chairman, Alan had a voice but not a vote in the meetings of the
Wolf clan. He sometimes wondered at the institution which had come
down from pre-bomb days. Why was it necessary to have a chair_man_.
Of course, myth-legend had it that men were once just as numerous and
active in society's economic (and even martial!) life as were women.
But that was myth-legend. It all had a _basis_ in reality, perhaps, but
some of it was undoubtedly stretched all but to the breaking point.
Of course if all men _had_ been fertile in the old days. But if you
started with _if_, as a beginning point, you could go as far as you
wished in any direction.
He called the meeting to order in the assembly hall which stood
possibly a hundred feet below the citadel in one direction, another
hundred from the stone corral which housed their prisoners, in the
other. The Wolf clan was present in its entirety with the exception
of children under ten and except for four scouts who were holding the
prisoners. As chairman, Alan sat on the dais flanked by Sally, the
matriarch, 35 years of age, tall, Junoesque, on one side and by Vivian
the scout chief, on the other.
Before them sat, first, the active warrior-workers, some thirty-five
of them. Second, the older women, less than a score. Further back
were the sterilies, possibly twenty of these and quite young, only
within recent memory had they been allowed to become part of the clan,
in the past they had been driven away or killed. Further back still
were the children above ten but too young to join the ranks of either
warrior-workers or sterilies.
Alan called the meeting to order, quieted them somewhat and then
invited the matriarch to take the floor.
Sally stood and looked out over her clan, the dignity of her presence
silencing them where Alan's plea had not.
She said, "We have two matters to bring to our attention. First, I
believe the clan should make it clear to Alan, our husband, that such
interference in the affairs of women is utterly out of the question. I
am speaking of his unmanly activities in the raid this morning."
There were mumblings of approval throughout the hall.
Alan came to his feet, his face bewildered. "But, Sally, what else
could I do? If I hadn't overcome the enemy warriors and turned the Bren
gun on the others you would all be gone now. Possibly none of you would
have survived."
Sally quieted him with a chill look. "Let me repeat what is well known
to every member of the clan. We consist of less than sixty women, a few
more than thirty-five of whom are active. There are twenty sterilies
and twenty-five or so children. And one husband. A few more than one
hundred in all."
Her voice slowed and lowered for the sake of emphasis. "All of our
women--except for two or three--might die and the clan would live on.
The sterilies certainly might all die, and the clan live on. Even the
children could all die and the clan live on. _But if our husband dies,
the clan dies._ The greatest responsibility of every member of any
clan is to protect the husband. Under no circumstances is he to be
endangered. You know this, it should not have to be brought to your
attention."
There was a strong murmur of assent from those seated before them.
Alan said, "But, Sally, I saved your lives! And if I hadn't, I would
have been captured by the Crows and Horses and you would have lost me
at any rate."
This was hard for Sally Wolf, but she said, "Then, at least, _they_
would have had you. If you had died, in your foolhardiness, you would
have been gone for all of us. Alan, two clans, husbandless clans,
united in this attempt to capture you from us. While we fought to
protect our husband, the life of our clan, we hold no rancor against
them. In their position, we would have done the same. Much rather
would we see you taken by them, than to see you dead. Even though the
Wolf clan might die, the race must go on." She added, but not very
believably, "If they had captured you, perhaps we could have, in our
turn, captured a husband from some other clan."
"The reason we probably couldn't," Vivian said mildly, "is that since
we've turned to agriculture and settled, our numbers have dropped off
by half. We had more than sixty warriors while we were hunter-foragers."
"That's enough, Vivian," Sally snapped. "The question isn't being
discussed this afternoon."
"Ought to be," somebody whispered down in front.
"Order," Alan said. He knew it was a growing belief in the clan that
giving up the nomadic life had been a mistake. From raiders, they had
become the raided.
Sally said, "The second order of business is the disposal of the Horse
and Crow prisoners captured in the action today."
Vivian said, "We can't afford to waste valuable ammunition. I say shove
them into the canyon."
Most of those seated in the hall approved of that. Some were puzzled
of face, wondering why the matter hadn't been left simply in the scout
chief's hands.
Sally said, dryly, "I haven't formed an opinion myself. However, our
chairman has some words to say."
Vivian looked at Alan as though he was a precocious child. She shook
her head. "You cutie, you. You're getting bigger and bigger for your
britches every day."
Two or three of the warriors echoed her by chuckling fondly.
Alan said nothing to that, needing to maintain what dignity and
prestige he could muster.
He stood and faced them and waited for their silence before saying,
"You feminine members of the clan are too busy with work and with
defense to pursue some of the studies for which we men find time."
Vivian murmured, "You ain't just a whistlin', honey. But we don't mind.
You do what you want with your time, honey."
He tried to smile politely, but went on. "It has come to the point
where few women read to any extent and most learning has fallen into
the hands of the men--few as we are."
Sally said impatiently, "What has this got to do with the prisoners,
Alan dear?"
It would seem that he had ignored her when he said, "I have been
discussing the matter with Warren of the Turtle clan and two or three
other men with whom I occasionally come in contact. At the rate
the race is going, there will be no men left at all in another few
generations."
There was quiet in the long hall. Deathly quiet.