I am alarmed by the cries of my kinsman, Ook, and seek him out. I find him behind a large stone some paces away from our lean-to: a temporary lodging made of sticks, leaves and hides that we use on longer hunting trips.
There Ook is squatting above the ground, making his morning constitutional. I steel myself, expecting to apply suction to a poisonous snake wound or kill a stalking saber tooth cat.
Ook makes a strange sound: “Look.”
I cock my head sideways and scratch my armpit to signal that I do not understand.
Ook makes the same sound again, this time pointing down. “Look.” He then adds more strange utterances: “Look what I make.”
He perceives that I still don’t understand and stands up, pointing down at a semi-swirled pile of feces. “Poop,” he says as he points to it. “I make poop. You see.”
I realize that Ook has started using language and has chosen to demonstrate this by calling me during his “brown time.” Continue reading Take it from Snee: Communication’s gone to s#*t