He sat on a flat rock in a hollow cave, pulling his heavy elk-hair coat tighter around him. He gnawed on fresh berries and red deer meat. He was content to be enjoying such a meal. Little did he know this was was his last day on Earth, and this is the story of his life and death.
It was around winter in the Alps of Italy around 8,000 BCE. Otzi was a small, older, very important person. He may have been a leader, or maybe a politician. Perhaps he was a famous explorer. Maybe he was a traveler looking for artifacts. We may never know. With him he carried a copper axe, a knife, a leathery pouch, birch bark containers, which are cylinder-shaped tubes made of birch tree bark, a net made for trapping small animals or fish, a dozen unfinished arrows and a quiver, a backpack, and a belt that may have held his smaller tools, like his knife. Otzi was sporting 3 layers of warm clothing, good, hearty boots, and his backpack, tools and supplies. He walked with a long, sturdy yew stick. Although Otzi was well prepared for his expedition into the mountains, he came unarmed, with no actual weapons on him. He might not have known that a weapon might have come in handy in the future.
Otzi was making his way into the Italian Alps. It was the winter, and the weather was chilly, frozen and icy. He was making a long journey. He died on the top of a mountain, but to get to the peak, he had to climb 6,500 feet! This would take a long time, but he was scared. He was scared because his enemies might be following close behind him. He’d had a wound on his hand that was just healing, the result of a hand fight. This had happened just a few days before. Otzi’s enemies could be lurking behind that boulder, or…no, behind that shrub! He found that he was paranoid, so he took off running for the base of the mountain and started to climb.
As Otzi ascended into the far reaches of the mountain, he began thinking of the village he’d came from. He thought about how kind his people were, and how important he was to them. But some of them didn’t want him to go on this journey. They thought it was too dangerous. Nonetheless, Otzi went on with the trip. As he climbed further up the mountain, he started to get hungry. From his leather pouch he pulled pieces of wild goat and grains. He sat atop of frozen rock and ate his small meal. After he’d eaten, he packed away his things and continued the perilous journey.
Otzi had 3 diseases. He had stomach aches, and parasites. He was not in very good health. Still, he persisted. Every few feet he would stop to look back, for fear that he would be ambushed. Before he knew it, Otzi was at the peak of the mountain. Luckily for him, there was a cave hollow with shelter from the wind. It had been a day since he had eaten, and he had good food packed in his pouch. Otzi took out red deer meat, fresh berries he’d found on a small bush climbing up the mountain, and grains. It was the springtime, so it was warmer now than it had been. Otzi sat just at the edge of the hollow, enjoying his meal and the view.
All of a sudden, Otzi heard a sound like somebody stepping up behind him. His attacker pulled back his bow and fired an arrowhead at Otzi. Otzi felt it go straight through his bone and hit his artery. Immediately, bright red blood splattered on the ground. Otzi felt faint and his heart sped up, pounding in his ears. He started to sweat, a cold sweat. He started to bleed. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was a blurry figure standing over him triumphantly. Fate soon caught up with him as he slumped to the ground, froze in ice, and, for him, time forever stopped.
