The Sixth Button - The Origins of the Thule Bronze Age
1421 CE. Kugluk, by the Rapids
It was the end of spring, harvest and planting was done for the time, and the Coppermen were gathering for the night to prepare for the summer harvest. Good copper was getting harder to find, but by the falls, it was still plentiful. The men regaled each other with tales of past finds, as they waited for the morning blessings.
The men waited in a cluster of tents on flat ground within site of the falls. A handful of dog teams relaxed nearby, and a few caribou grazed on their long tethers. But most of the animals were gone. There was little use to feeding them and looking after them here. Let them be taken where they would find use.
In a large tent, the most senior coffee men gathered, to chew Roseroot and tell stories and lies.
“..... as large as a dog’s head, and this is no lie. I swear by the spirit of my grandfather’s grandfather,” said Uloqtak.
“Ahh,” Assinituik laughed, “Last summer, it was as large as a foxes head. The nugget grows each time you tell it. I will wait till it is as large as a Musk Ox head.”
“Why just a head, give it a few more seasons, it will be as large as a Musk Ox!”
The men laughed, then went still as a Shaman joined them.
“Holy one,” the men made ritual obeisance, gesturing respectfully.
“May I join your company,” the Shaman asked, “I am Maksanak, the Wanderer.”
Of course, this could not be refused. The circle of men expanded to include the Shaman, who took his seat modestly enough.
“Maksanak,” one of the men said, “I have heard of a Maksanak, who knew the spirits of the Caribou.”
“Different Maksanak,” the Shaman replied. “But I get that a lot. I am a wanderer.”
“You’re from the Islands,” Tologayak ventured. “Somewhere high up.”
“Yes,” the Shaman replied. “And travelled even beyond.”
“Indeed, and what brings you to our common camp this night?”
“That is a story,” and the Shaman related many tales and adventures from his wanderings. Places so empty and barren that the land was nothing but an endless field of ice that moaned and crackled. Places of high cliffs and towering mountains. Lands carpeted in green. Shrubs with stems so thick that you could barely put your arms around them, and so tall it was the height of many men.”
Some of this, of course, was scoffed at in good natured ways. And some of it was accepted with awed adulation. Some of the men ventured their own experiences. The conversation went back and forth.
Finally, the Shaman produced a small disklike object, no more than an inch in diameter. “The great Shaman, Takhyaktot, met me twelve days before, a wanderer like myself. We sat and conversed, as is the way of things. We made gifts to each other, and knowing that I was coming to Copper country, he gave me this.”
He held up the disk.
The men studied it.
“A bit of copper, I think,” Assinituik ventured.
“Not from here though?” Uloqtak ventured cautiously. The men absorbed that. For as long as anyone could remember, the sole source of copper was this country, and it was the foundation of their wealth as a people. Another place where copper was harvested?
“From far away, I think. Takhyaktot recieved it from the Shaman, Evyagotailik, who in turn received it from the Shaman, Manayok. Manayok took it freely given from the hand of Upsalutak of the high Island, who received it from his brother, who in turn had it from a Satsutogat for the Long Ice Shore, who came to it from Iksolikak, a man of no distinction.”
“Sounds like a long way,” Assinituik ventured cautiously.
The Shaman put it in his hand. He felt it, weighted it. Held it up to the light. He licked it and then put it between his teeth and bit down.
“Copper,” he said finally, “But not like any copper I’ve ever found. It’s not right.”
“Let me?” Uloqtak said. The object was put in his hand.
“Not copper,” he said. “The weight isn’t right.”
Again, he tasted it, bit it, rubbed his finger against it. Finally, he handed it on.
“Copper, but not copper,” the next man said.
“Definitely copper,” but yes, it’s strange.”
It slowly passed around the circle of men. They asked more questions. But the Shaman had no more answers.
One man was bold enough to put it in a fire, after the Shaman granted permission.
“Careful,” Uloqtak said, “we don’t want it melting.”
“The fire’s not hot enough to melt copper,” someone laughed. They all chuckled. It was a classic mistake of eager youth. You wanted the copper hot enough to work. Not hot enough to melt.
They watched it on the fire.
“Doesn’t smell right.”
They fished it out, placed it on a flat rock and pounded it a few times with a hammer stone.
“Harder,” Uluqtak said finally. “Much harder than the copper we know.”
“That’s no advantage,” Tologayak said. “If it doesn’t go soft in the fire, you can’t work it.”
“Maybe a hotter fire?”
“Much more costly. And a lot harder to manage.”
“But for a harder copper? That could be worth it.”
“So what is this?”
“It has to be copper, just some different copper, something we have not seen before.”
“Hmmm.” The men puzzled over it.
“Suppose,” Uluqtak said finally, ”that it is copper, but mixed?”
“Mixed,” his friend asked.
“Like Ice and Leaf Ice. Ice is hard, but it is just frozen water. Mix water with leaf mulch, you have leaf ice, much stronger, colder, melts slower. Maybe this is a mixed copper?”
“Mixed with what? Leaf mulch?”
The men laughed.
“No, no. Leaf would burn away.”
“That’s not a bad idea Tologayak,” said finally. “Copper melts.”
“If you’re an idiot,” a man mocked. Everyone laughed.
“Yes, idiots,” Tologayak admitted. “But it does melt, you could mix things in it. Maybe the mix would be like Leaf Ice. Stronger, harder.”
The men considered that. It seemed ridiculous, but there was the obstinate little disk. So obviously metal, but just as obviously no copper that they knew.
“Ash?” Another suggested. “Maybe that causes the colour.”
“Does ash melt?”
“Well, you stir it fine.”
“Maybe.”
“We could try that.”
“Try it with your own copper. I’ll not look like a fool.”
“Maybe sand, or fine stone?”
“No, it’s smooth. So whatever the mix is, it must be very fine.”
“Or liquid, or something else that could be melted.”
“Fat? Oil?”
“We should try....”
