Rainfall

``Son,'' Ulgon said as he motioned Elgon to squat beside him in the middle of the desert on the outskirts of the oasis that the rest of the tribe had been camping for the past fortnight. ``You're old enough to take a wife, and so it is time you learnt the most important story of all.''

Elgon walked softly towards his father, his bronze skin reflecting off the fading evening sunlight, his feet making deep depressions in the soft sand. He too squatted down, next to his father, and listened earnestly.

``The land wasn't always this way,'' Ulgon said as he gestured his arms, pointing out at the vast sand plains, of which small patches of oases could be seen. ``This whole land used to be fertile and green, with ample food, water and shelter. Animals roamed free instead of travelling in hungry convoys, and some of your ancestors even managed to get some farming going.''

``We used to farm?''

``Yes... a very long time ago. The fertility of the land was tied to the consistent rainfall throughout the year, a blessing from the gods above. The consistent rainfall made it easy to plan ahead for the crops, and as a result, food was always plentiful.

``For a while, it was good. Everyone started to have more free time to explore new ways of doing things, creating new tools, and even less practical things like art. It was passed down that everyone rotated to farm the crops for the rest of the tribe. There were some lazier individuals, of course, but overall, the system was good.

``But as time went by, the rainfall started to become increasingly erratic. On some days it was as dry as a bone, and on others, the fields of crops were flooded to the point that the roots themselves started to rot, destroying many fields of edible crops. Then one day, there was no rain. Everyone thought it was just one of those days and did not think much about it. The next day came without rain. Three weeks went without rain. By then everyone was starting to get worried, for the crops were turning into a golden brown before smouldering off into plant ash as the heat drew on.

``It wasn't just the crops everyone had helped grow, it was the trees and grass that were not within the fields; those just smouldered into a disturbing brown. Soon there were few if any plants growing healthily. The top soil was exposed and was weathered away over time. Some of the less visited spots turned into oases due to a regular-ish rain fall.

``It was at some point that the wise tribe elders realised what was happening. It was a punishment of the gods for the tribe's hubris! Everyone had spent so much time exploring how to make tools and art that no one was paying attention to the children, and as a result, entire generations of children grew up respecting only the tools and art, and not their elders. The lack of respect of the children of their elders was taken by the gods to be a sign that they too will be faced with the same lack of respect, and as a result, decided to punish the tribe by cutting back on the rain.

``The tribe elders who figured out what was wrong tried to teach the new generation of children to respect their elders, but had mixed results. The slight alleviation of the dryness seemed to suggest that they were doing the right thing, but the tribe elders knew they couldn't keep teaching newer generations forever -- they just didn't live that long.

``And so they started a tradition, where fathers would bring their sons out the week before they were supposed to be taking wives, and tell them about this story, in the hopes that their sons will remember the admonishment of their wise tribe elders from generations ago and help bring the tribe back to the life that they had lost so many years ago.''

Ulgon paused and looked at Elgon. The latter was looking into the horizon in the distance as the sun made its way down the horizon completely.