Chapter 5

When I Was a Wild Child

I am not given to introspection, or at least, the Boromir who once lived was not so given (so the big Man continued). What a remarkable thing it is to have a childhood, when you think of it. Yet more remarkable it might be considered to have two: I was now in my second childhood. I had much to learn, and when I was strong enough, the Elders of the Clan who cared for me allowed me to wander at my will within the camp, but not outside its bounds. I was watched over and tended to whether in the light of day or throughout the night’s shadows.

My Clan was the Grey Wolf Clan. I was given a new name, though at the time I did not know this, as I could understand nothing they said to me. As the days passed I gradually began to pick up a few words, and then a few more, and I began to be able to speak and understand more fully what they were saying. So I learned my new name meant “Waxing Moon of the Wolf-Clan”, for they believed that, as the moon dies and is reborn, so had I died and been reborn, and just as the moon waxes, so had I.

I was given my Clan Mark, the crescent moon and a single star, on my chest. They used a sharp stone and charcoal to do this, and though it pained me not a little, the Shaman said without it the Grandfather would not know me and so would not protect me. The Grandfather, so they call Him, is that One Voice I had known in the Light, the Father of All, and the Creator of Creation Unfinished. I was taught to speak to the Grandfather every day without fail, and upon retiring. I have taken this advice to heart, and now all I do is done only after I have spoken to the One Light.

So many questions did I ask of Him, (here Boromir glanced briefly skyward with a gentle smile) for the mysteries which confounded me were not a few. My heart tells me that He does not make terms too hard for those who seek Him. Should I ever find myself able to map the Realm of Spirit, I am convinced I would find it is vast, forbidding none whom would seek it. It is open, I believe, to any that have want of it. By following the dictates of that Highest of Powers, one might presently live in a new and wonderful world, no matter the circumstances at hand. Well may you look askance! (Here the Man laughed, it seemed, with delight) Aye, you mishear me not! I, Boromir, that fellow who once was so proud he became in truth stiff of neck would tell you now that my seeking ever for glory and power, as the hound courses ever the game, came to understand those very things were my undoing! For did I not attempt to wrest the Ring from Frodo? Did I not dismiss that which I learned of the lore of that evil thing which was Sauron’s greatest machine of war, enslavement and death?

I came to understand I had been greatly wanting in any true power, nor had I learned overmuch of other glories than that found in battle; this, therefore, was the greatest mystery and most profound riddle. For what reason had I been granted life amid my death? What was it I was to do? For what reason did He grant life to me anew? I could not believe the reason was to seek power or glory as I had understood power or glory. Having been granted a new life by a Power greater than any, through the glory of His perfect love, I must understand that in truth, there is little of real power among the living.

I had sought to take the Ring to Gondor, by force if need be, to give to Minas Tirith a gift of great power and to bring glory to Gondor and to myself. And in doing so, did not even this Man’s most foul deed work against his willfulness, serving at last Him Whom is the Light? For by this time, the Wild Folk had learned of the fate of the Enemy, and that Hobbits had played a great part in it, and that one of these —followed by another— had gone into Mordor itself to bring doom upon the Great Eye. I knew then that my most foul deed had served the purpose of the Creator, furthering the Ring-bearer on his way. My desire for power and hunger for glory had been my undoing, but not the undoing of Him Who Made All. Therefore, I reasoned, I should in my new life cease the seeking for power and glory for myself. Yet I wondered: How was I to fulfill the tasks, whatever they may be, for which I was returned to the living? Plainly, I could not do this by increasing my desire to glorify myself or take power for myself. Therefore, I must fulfill my purpose by serving the Light.

And had the Light not set me in the midst of the Wild Folk? I came to believe this was for one purpose: I must truly begin anew. I must become a different Man, better than the Man I had been. I could accomplish this in but one way. I must seek knowledge of a more lofty nature than that which I had found in my former life. I must recognize that I was, in fact, very much a child yet again, understanding I had many lessons to learn, and so I set about learning as much as I might from the little Wild Folk, and learn I did. I sought out all they had to teach me, for had they not taught me to speak with Him Who Made All? And had I not found some small amount of wisdom in speaking with the Grandfather as they had taught me to do?

I was also taught that every woman of the Clan was mother to me, and my sister, and somehow also my daughter, just as every man was my father and somehow brother and son, all in one. I cannot explain it, but somehow each woman was more than my own mother to me, and each man more than my own brother! (Here Pippin’s mouth formed the name “Faramir”, but the Big Man did not seem to notice as he went on with his tale.) And a woman (he said thoughtfully), a woman might not be treated otherwise until she is wed, and then a man must treat his bride as his most cherished relation. And so began my life as a Wild Child.

Now the Wild Folk, while fearful to some, are a fascinating people. Contrary to what you may have heard, they are quite civilized after their own fashion. They have rules and laws, just like all people, though their ways are different.

For instance, child-rearing. Smile — yes, you might smile! As I was now a child, albeit a rather large one, I was treated as such. Now there was a young fellow in that Clan that bore me ill will from the first, and he gave me a lot of trouble. The last straw, for me, was when he took my evening meal and threw it in the fire, spitting at my feet. I rose and drew back my hand to strike him, and the Elders stood between us. We were dragged to the outskirts of the camp and made to sit across from each other. The Elders bound one of his arms to one of my arms, and we were forced to live so bound until we understood that we could do nothing for ourselves without the help of the one for the other. It was a lesson I shall never forget, for there is much wisdom in this.

I was taught that I must never kill anything without a reason, not even a mouse. When an animal is killed, every part of it must be used, even the teeth. I was taught that we must honor every creature whose life we take, for it has a spirit, just as we have spirits.

As I grew up I was taught how to use the d’chut, the little tube-stick they use to launch their darts. The darts are dipped in plant decoctions that stun a small animal quickly, and can stun a person, too, and so only the Shaman is allowed to make the poison and oversees all the darts that are dipped in it. Before too long, I was allowed to hunt with the rest of the men, but in their eyes I was still but a boy, and so I was never left to my own devices.

It was a quiet life, with its own charms. It is my great hope that these little Wild Folk will live on, but life is very hard for them. They do not bear young in great numbers, while my own people, under the care of King Elessar now do, forcing the Wild Folk out of the best hunting grounds. Winter famine is nothing new to them, and they endure many hardships, and yet they go on. I grew to admire these tough little people.

Soon I had been with them for more than a year. It seems strange now, but time flew while I was there. We traveled not a little, always setting up a new camp in its season. I learned how to make a life anywhere I went, and that my home was wherever I wanted to be, for where I went, there I found myself. I fancy I could make a home at the top of Caradhras now and satisfactorily at that.

Time went on until I had been with them nearly three years. Then, on a night of full moon, I was called before the Elders, and they told me I was about to be told my life. This was done in the form of a story, and the story goes like this:

Once, a man had been cast out of his father’s clan, and he drowned himself. His body lay at the bottom of the river for many seasons. Then, one day, a man of the Grey Wolf People went fishing. His line was caught in a snag at the bottom, and the man nearly broke his fishing stick pulling the line loose. When he got the line loose, he found he had caught the skeleton of the man who had drowned himself. The Wolf Clan man saw the skeleton, and, fearing he disturbed a troubled spirit, he fled.

But he forgot he still held his fishing stick — (here the big Man laughed at the image) — and pulled the skeleton after him. The man, exhausted, finally stopped. Only then did he see the skeleton was still with him. He looked at the skeleton, and saw that it was a confused disorder of bones. The man took pity on the skeleton, and sorted out the bones. The man took some berries and some dried fish and placed it in the mouth of the skull. The next morning, when the man awoke, the skeleton was no longer bare bones, but a man. The Wolf Clan man raised up this man as if he were a son and soon the mysterious man was whole enough to look after himself, and make his way in the world. So the Wolf Clan man placed many Blessings on the man, and bid him, ‘Go, and despair no more, but build a new life for yourself, as you yourself have been remade.’

And so I came to understand that the Wolf Clan looked upon me as a son, but knew I could never be whole again unless I went out into the world, to finish what they had started, the building of a new man, myself. It saddened me greatly to leave my new family, but I knew the good of what they told me when they told my life. So with many tears and many warm embraces, they bid me farewell, and said they hoped I would return to them someday as a whole man. A feast to fare me well was given, and the Shaman blessed me with these words, which I now translate to the Common Speech so that you may know the good of it. With drum and dance and song, this was the blessing:

Grandfather, we offer now to Thee

to build with and to do with

as Thou wilt Waxing Moon,

the Son of the Grey Wolf Clan.

Release him now from the bondage of self,

that he may better do Thy will.

Strengthen him in difficulties, that victory over them may

bear witness to those he would serve

of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy path of life.

May he do Thy will always!

Set his feet upon the path of Your choosing,

That he may walk always under your guidance,

And keep him safe from all evil chance.

Bless him with joy in all he does,

That he may know the greatness of your love,

And return him to us

Safe and whole.

I know in my heart their pleas were heard, though I have known not a little sorrow along with great joy, and my path has not been always a pleasant path. But they were right to let me go, for I could not become whole again unless I went out into the world to learn more of why I had been given a second life. Thus, though I would miss the Wild Folk in no small way, I knew I must go and so, go I did. I miss the Wild Folk terribly, and hope that all is well with them. Many little mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters do I have in that Clan. Under their tutelage I learned as much as I could until they could teach me no more. It was time to leave them.

They returned my clothing to me and gave me supplies, and in that spring, I left them to finish building my new life.