Sky Mountain Pines: Part 1

The sun was just beginning to rise over the Sangala Valley and the day was already warm. Ekon, a middle-aged widower and his son Mosi sat outside as they did each morning eating their breakfast before beginning their long day. It had been just the two of them since Ekon’s wife Bisa died from a mysterious illness several years earlier.

The Sangala Valley is very small but a good home for Ekon and Mosi. There is an abundance of sunlight for growing crops and copious amounts of fruit trees to provide food and much needed shade during the hottest times of the day. Mosi fishes daily in nearby Lake Caballo; he has become quite proficient but Ekon is the hunter, always keeping them well-fed with rabbits, pigs, deer or fowl. They also keep roosters, chickens and have a mare mule for milk.

Three other families live in the valley and share the area peacefully, frequently trading with each other. Ekon and Mosi are fortunate to have a variety of foods to eat; however, they have had little luck growing wheat or other grains – something Bisa excelled at. Sometimes the women bring them flatbread and loaves of Green Mealies, a fluffy corn bread, in exchange for fish or rabbits.

Forests of wild pine trees grow in the distance and the view from the valley is magnificent. One evening as father and son relaxed by their campfire, Mosi expressed his greatest desire: “Father, one day I shall visit the Cloud Mountain Pines.”

“One day?” exclaimed Ekon and laughed heartily. “My son, the pines are hundreds of miles away, a rigorous and dangerous journey of many months. It is a quest, not a day’s adventure.”

“But how can that be, Father?” Mosi questioned. “I can see them as clearly as I can see Lake Caballo.”

“Mosi, the wild pines are enormous and tower over everything” Ekon explained. “Their closeness is a mere illusion.”

“But Father” Mosi argued. “Look across the lake. The pines are plainly visible and the land is flat. We can get there in two days!”

“That is true, my son, but reaching the pine trees on Cloud Mountain is another story. You must give up this fantasy. Now, off to bed for both of us.”

Mosi did not mention the Cloud Mountain Pines again for a long time but he never abandoned his dream. One morning during breakfast Mosi told his father that he had decided he would not be able to rest until he traveled to the woods – or at least tried. Ekon’s first reaction was to once again talk Mosi out of his idea but as he looked at his son he realized he was no longer a child and his mind was made up. Ekon told Mosi he understood the need that drove him and they would make the trek together.

Mosi was overjoyed and immediately began to prepare. Ekon said they must bring only the barest of necessities, their fishing and hunting tools and their mule Shiga. There was also one priceless object which Ekon would never leave behind, a treasure handed down from generation to generation: a tiny vial containing the Tincture of Jal’mboor. One small drop on the tip of the tongue would enable the user to speak in any language chosen and the spell would remain until no longer needed.

They set out the following morning, reaching the woods at dusk on the second day. Mosi was shocked to find how much bigger everything was. Even the smallest trees were taller than him. Ekon and Mosi camped under the moon at the foot of the lake; after an early breakfast of fruit and nuts, they set off. The terrain was flat and easily passable until the fifth day when they came upon a vast, swiftly moving river blocking their path. Having no craft, the duo consulted an old map and chose to travel east. This would take them out of their way but it was the safest route. After many days of walking, they reached a shallow section of the river which they crossed safely.

The new terrain was steeper and difficult. The forests were dense and hardly any light shone through. They were keenly aware of the ominous stillness and Ekon kept his spear at the ready. Without warning the trees began to quake; suddenly hundreds of birds flew out and disappeared. A second later a massive Basambi Kurumandi Tiger appeared. He stared at Ekon and Mosi, deadly pale green eyes observing their every move. He snarled, exposing razor sharp fangs. Ekon whispered for Mosi to stand perfectly still but Shiga was spooked and whinnied loudly. In an instant the tiger leapt but Ekon was ready and felled the giant cat with his trusty spear through its heart. Father and son refilled their water skins from the river and, exhausted, went to sleep far from the felled tiger. They would start fresh in the morning.

END OF PART 1

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This is Yanni with “One Man’s Dream” (Live at the Acropolis 1993)

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