The fire flickered, perhaps it was the stimulation of Wang Chuan's talk about the bow and arrow, and the mother also began to tell the story intermittently. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 infoThis time, it's not about eating, it's about bows and arrows, about rivers, and about tribes.

"Big river, it's too dangerous, this kind of ...... Alligator...... It's too sinister......" Speaking of the new word crocodile, she also looked at Wang Chuan, trying to express her meaning in this new expression. "When the tribe first came, there were more people than now, and when they went to the river, many people died...... Being dragged into the water by this roar can't be saved. Later, he was not allowed to go down the river. There are fish in the river, but they are not allowed to ...... At that time, my father still had arrows, arcs, and ate more than he does now, and there were many people...... The roaring fire boy is good, better than my father, but you still have to be careful when you go down the river......"

"Mother, where did our tribe come from?" Hearing the origin of the tribe for the first time, Wang Chuan couldn't help but ask. "Over there. Lots and lots of places to walk. Mother pointed to the north.

The specific number of days to go is estimated that there is no concept of the mother. In this era, if you don't have enough to eat, you will die, if you have to eat, you will have a lot of children, and then there will still be not enough to eat, and then you have to divide the family and let some people of the tribe go to other places to survive. It's the same as going out to work in later generations. Presumably, the tribe is a small tribe that has branched off from the big tribe outside. Otherwise, there would be no bows and arrows. I don't know how long the tribe has been separated. It is not known how many people there were in the original tribe.

"And what about our bows and arrows?" Wang Chuan then asked.

"It's broken. Without. ”

Wang Chuan was speechless, and he didn't dare to leave any good things. Wang Chuan wanted to ask about anything else, but his mother took two burning wooden sticks as torches, beckoned to him, and walked to the depths of the cave.

The depth of the cave is hundreds of square meters, and the depth is where Ah Mu stores her belongings, and no one can enter without her permission. Following the firelight to the inside, Wang Chuan found that it was extremely low inside, and he had to walk with his head down. The air inside is relatively dry, there are paintings made of loess on the rock wall, and some knotted ropes, broken bows, horns, animal skins and other things are placed on the ground. The turtle shell that Wang Chuan got two days ago was also placed here.

The mother put the torch aside, pointed to the mural on the far edge of the wall and said to Wang Chuan: "When my father led the tribe, there were so many people, but now in my hands, only these people are left. ”

The mural is abstract, with only a few irregular lines and circles, and nothing can be seen. It's just that there is a pile of knotted rope under the picture. These ropes are also made of hemp. When my mother said these people, she pointed to the side, where there were small figures with simple brushstrokes painted on the stone walls on the front.

Wang Chuan asked, "Are these knotted ropes the number of people at that time?" This wall painting is the person who is now in the cave? ”

Mother pointed to the knot and said, "One knot and one person." Pointing to the mural, he said, "These are the people of now." ”

Wang Chuan counted the knots, and when he came, there were 74 knots, indicating that there were 74 people. On the mural, there are 46 villains, which is equal to the number of tribes counted by Wang Chuan.

"How long have we been here?" Wang Chuan asked again.

Pointing to a mural on another stone, my mother said, "When my father came, he tied so many knots, and then he gave them to me, and I tied so many knots myself. One in spring and autumn, after the snow stops, the first flower blooms on the day it hits. ”

On this mural, a strong man is depicted, and next to him there are several patterns of hunting cows, large snakes, and a bow. Corresponding to the mural is a pile of new and old knots. Wang Chuan counted them, a total of sixty-one. It seems that the tribe has only lived here for sixty-one years. In just sixty years, the number of people here has decreased so much, and it can be guessed that when I first came here, it should have been mainly young and strong, but now in the tribe, children account for half of the population. At the same time, the drastic decline in numbers has also brought disaster to the inheritance here, as can be seen from the fact that these people can use bows and arrows to now only run after wild beasts. Later generations have verified that there are people here who have been active for tens of thousands to 100,000 years, but I am afraid that it is not the same group of people.

Now people do not have the concept of the year, but the concept of spring and autumn does. When the first flower blooms, tie a knot, that is, once a year, maybe this is the origin of the earliest "Hua".

"My father used to use arcs, he could kill big bulls, he was a hero!" The mother said very proudly, and when she said it, she picked up the arrow on the ground and showed it to Wang Chuan. But I don't know how many years have passed since that arrow, and it vaguely looks like a bow. In fact, it looks no different from the rotting bent branches outside.

After talking about my mother's father, my mother began to tell Wang Chuan about the tribal villain murals. These are stick figures in three strokes and two strokes, some of which resemble the graffiti of children in later generations. These portraits are divided into upper and lower layers, the upper portrait is larger, the lower portrait is smaller, and the corresponding portrait also has a knot underneath. There are also some hunting and gathering images next to some of the portraits.

From his mother's explanation, Wang Chuan knew that the knots below were their ages, and there were other pictures next to them as records of the outstanding events they made. The relationship between the upper and lower levels is the corresponding parent-child relationship.

The portrait of the mother herself is of a long hand, and she is now rickety, and her hands and feet have become very long. The picture around her was of a shrunken cave mouth, indicating that she was in charge of the tribe, and her corresponding knots were hard to imagine as forty-three. The one with a large tooth like a squirrel in his mouth was Wang Chuan's father, and there was no other marking pattern next to him, corresponding to the knot being twenty-five. Just looking at the images, Wang Chuan did not find himself from the mural, but he saw two images under the width, one large and one small, and his mother said that the big one was him, and then the sides of his images were painted with fire, baskets, ropes, nets, etc. When my mother was talking about him, she was holding the loess to draw a stone spear and a crocodile next to it, indicating that he had killed a crocodile. The range was not large enough, so the grandmother wiped out the family next to her with spittle and redrew the other side. Wang Chuan counted, and his knot was eleven.

Mother explained: "Parents and children cannot get married. Those who have the same parents cannot be married, but let them be separated or exchanged from other tribes. If they die, if they have no great works, they will be wiped out from here, and whoever is born will be added. Every spring and autumn, the first flower blooms after the snow, and a knot is formed. ”

Wang Chuan nodded in understanding. This should be the origin and identity of the ancestral tablets that have been handed down to later generations.

The continuation of tribal civilization is not whether they can use fire, whether they can eat enough, whether they can polish stone tools and use traps, and whether they have learned to dress or speak, but these murals or symbols. It allows people to distinguish between people and understand ancestors, so that the bloodline can continue to be pure.

And these are the starting points of the inheritance of civilization.

Seeing this, the tribe became different in Wang Chuan's eyes. It is no longer a gathering place for savages, but a point of inheritance of civilization.

With the consent of his mother, he wrote on the stone wall: "In the first year of the Mid-Autumn Festival, kill crocodiles." Then, starting from August 15, I wrote a calendar of the lunar calendar at the back.