Chapter 7

An Entirely New Epoch

…

Present-Day New Mexico, 12,000 Years Ago

"By now the world's situation should be familiar to you." Peridot begins, using a comedically dramatic voice.

You both are flying across vast expanses of prairie, passing by herds of horses, bison, and camels grazing in the fields, with the occasional mastodon strolling by. It's still noticeably cold, but being this far south there are no massive glaciers to be seen, though there are the occasional groves of broad-leaved trees in the distance.

"For the past 88,000 years or so, Earth had been experiencing its last glacial period, or ice age," she continued. "All across Eurasia and North America, enormous 2-mile thick ice sheets covered the northern reaches of the continents, creating a dry world with only the sparsest pockets of warm-weather vegetation towards the equatorial regions. Sea levels were at an all-time-low, exposing vast stretches of the seabed, giving rise to great lands like Sundaland and Beringia where humans and other organics could live. But things were about to change."

Peridot rests the time machine on solid ground, right by an enormous patch of white-petaled flowers. She opens the pod and takes in the cool air. You find yourself clutching to your sweater, silently hoping for warmer weather.

"Earth's global temperatures started to rise around 20,000 years ago, just as the ancestors of Native Americans were beginning to trek south into new lands. Peoples around the world, particularly in the Northern Hemisphere, had begun to notice all the weird changes as they went about their hunter-gatherer lives. Summers started getting longer, winters noticeably shorter. Glaciers were retreating, exposing new territories to explore. Animal and plant distributions slowly changed as cold adapted species shrunk towards the glaciers, while warm-adapted species expanded their ranges upward. And all of this accelerated until 15,000 years ago, when the climate of the Earth had nearly reached something we would recognize today."

Peridot reaches down and picks up some of the wildflowers, gently holding them in her hands. She gives you some, which you instinctively bring to your nose to sniff. They smell kind of like clovers.

"These little flowers are called white dryas. They're the namesake poster-children of a brief period in Earth's history called the Younger Dryas," Peridot explains. "By 13,000 years ago, so much water had melted from the giant glaciers that it started to affect ocean currents. The Gulf Stream, a current in the Atlantic Ocean that moves warm tropical water up north, had received so much of the icy-cold meltwater from the glaciers that it became very weakened. Without this major current spreading warm water to the north, things suddenly got very cold again within 200 years! It was like another mini ice age! The white dryas flowers like cooler conditions, so they spread out across Europe and North America during this time, hence the name."

Nodding your head, you hand the flowers back to Peridot as you observe the area around you. A group of Native Americans is moving through the landscape about a couple hundred feet away. Dressed in close-fitting skins, some of the men are carrying noticeable wooden spears, while some of the children are holding small edible plants they had gathered.

You nudge Peridot's shoulder, bringing her attention to the people.

"Ooh! Nice work! You spotted some Clovis people." Peridot exclaimed, grinning. "They're one of the many regional cultures that developed following the peopling of the Americas. Earth researchers have found their stone-tipped points all over the continental United States. In fact, I've taken us to the site where they were first discovered. This place will one day be a city called Clovis, New Mexico."

Peridot begins making motions reminiscent of a human using a spear. "What's really neat about these guys is that they often went after big game animals. Their ancestors had already been living and exploring the continent for a few thousand years now, so they had gotten very familiar with the local organics. To go after all the new prey animals, they developed a neat device called an atlatl."

Peridot pulls out her tablet and shows you a picture of one. It's a blunt, elongated object with a little divot at the end. "They're spear-throwers! All you have to do is attach the base of your spear to the little hole at the end, and then you launch it. These babies were much more efficient at hurling spears than a man using his bare arm. They could increase the range of a throw by a few hundred feet! Other peoples in Europe will develop the same technology too: it seems to be a response to the changing world."

The two of you decide to get a little closer to the group of Clovis people, who are now cautiously maneuvering around a pair of ground sloths emerging from a burrow. The slow animals look over at the humans with a careful eye, bearing out their massive, clawed paws just in case. One mother clutches her two kids close, while one of the men scowls at the animals.

"A changing the world is indeed. No doubt you've become quite familiar with all of these different ice age mammals? All the mammoths and sloths and saber-toothed cats?" Peridot asks, to which you nod and shrug your shoulders. It's kind of hard not to notice such large animals.

"Well, take one last look, because they're all about to go extinct. In a few hundred years, following the end of the Younger Dryas and the continuation of global warming, many of the world's large animals or megafauna will die out. And it's a process that's taken many thousands of years across different places… let me explain."

Peridot brings you back to the time machine and pilots it upwards, giving you a good view of the herds of mammals.

"So, just to recap real quick." Peridot turns to you, setting the time machine on autopilot. "Homo sapiens had evolved in Africa around 350,000 years ago. From there, in successive waves, they expanded their range into Eurasia, with the largest movement occurring some 76,000 years ago. They reached Australia by 65,000 years ago; Europe by 45,000 years ago; and the Americas by 19,000 years ago. During all that time, they encountered animals of all different kinds, and many of them were not used to human beings. This was particularly true in places where hominins had never evolved, like the Americas or Australia. As people started growing in number and becoming more familiar with their local environments, they began to have an effect on the organic life already living there."

You look out the window to see a few mammoth kill sites, not unlike the one you both participated in back in Europe. Some have already been abandoned, having been stripped of the essentials.

"There is a curious correlation between the arrival of humans in certain continents and the disappearance of the megafauna native to those regions. Here in North America, for example, many of the large animals had died out by 11,000 years ago. Native Americans had already established a presence here by 19,000 years ago (as I mentioned earlier), but it wasn't until 14,000 years ago that they became widespread and well-adapted. Incidentally, it's not long after that many of the populations of mammoths, horses, camels, sloths, and big cats started declining. A similar thing happened in Australia: after humans began trickling down into the continent from the north, they spread out and came into contact with more and more animals. All those giant kangaroos and wombats and lizards I told you about. Humans become widespread in Australia around 45,000 years ago… and sure enough almost all of the giant animals died out by 40,000 years ago."

Peridot continues, "Earth researchers have argued about this for a long time, but given these observations it seems that humans played a major role in the extinction of much of Earth's megafauna. And it's in the Americas and Australia where this is most prominent! Since Homo sapiens, and other human species for that matter, had been living in Africa and Eurasia the longest, the animals there had plenty of time to get used to a human presence. They were able to, for the most part, adapt to the actions of human hunters. The arrival of humans in Australia and the Americas was so brief that the megafauna there had no time to adapt… so off they went."

Giving a small "hmm", you ponder over the matter, before Peridot punches in new coordinates.

"It's good to remember that the megafaunal extinctions might have been very complex and different in many parts of the world. Some of the species losses could have had more to do with hunting, and others with climate changes like the Younger Dryas. Or perhaps a combination of those factors just made survival difficult and exacerbated the remaining populations. It's a fascinating debate… regardless of the 'whys', when the last ice age drew to a close 11,700 years ago, everything had changed. A new epoch had dawned."

…

Japanese Archipelago, 11,700 Years Ago

Exiting the time machine, you take in the cool, comfortable atmosphere. Peridot had landed the pod near a meandering stream, located within a lush, green forest. Oaks, pines, beeches, and chestnut trees surround you, providing shelter to many smaller bushes and tall grasses. A regal, spotted deer notices the two of you and sprints off into the woods.

Peridot, surveying the area, begins to lead you onwards, parallel to the river.

"When I meant that a new epoch had dawned, I really meant it. Remember a while back when I explained the geologic time scale? How Earth's deep history is divided into successive stages?" Peridot asks, to which you nod your head and give a thumbs up. "Excellent!" she beams. "Well, since eras are divided into periods, periods are divided into epochs. 11,700 years ago, the Holocene Epoch started! That's the age that encompasses everything up to present times. The previous 2.4 million years or so - that is, the time of the Ice Ages - is called the Pleistocene Epoch. What's really funny is that the names for the different epochs of the Cenozoic Era are rather literal. Pleistocene means "most new", while Holocene means "entirely new". And that is a remarkably accurate assessment of the world we're in right now."

Brushing past some bushes, you take note of some melting patches of snow along the ground. Seems as though winter is on its way out. Coming across some large rocks in your way, you help Peridot over them by holding her hand.

"With… eugh, dumb rocks…" Peridot fumbles, "with the last glacial period finished, the Holocene is reserved for the following interglacial period. All of the previous interglacials of the Ice Ages are considered part of the Pleistocene. What makes the Holocene so special is that humanity is still living during this interglacial period, and so much cultural development has occurred within it. But, really, from a geologic point-of-view, the Holocene isn't really that special. Still, we're concerned with human history right now, so it's quite a notable time. At the epoch's beginning, the Earth's climate and surface underwent a mega-boon of change. Temperatures around the world warmed significantly, and the sea levels continued to rise following the melting of the great glaciers. Some parts of the continents, like the lands of Beringia and Sundaland, were swallowed up by the sea, while others rose upwards as the massive weight of the glaciers was relieved. With warmer temperatures becoming a norm, plant life spread out across the Earth's surface, colonizing land near the poles and forming great forests at the midlatitudes."

Before long, the river splits in two, and Peridot halts. She's taken you as far as she wants. At the bend in the river stands a rather steep cliffside with a large cave at the center. You notice some significant human activity around the outside: there's a great fire-pit at its center that is being tended to, and several groups of people are working with food and natural materials. Many of the men are sporting handsome facial hair, and everyone is dressed comfortably in skins.

"Humans were left with a much different world than they knew during the Ice Ages. For people who had spent generations living along the coast, they had to watch as their shoreline moved many miles away from them. And groups living along the barren, glacier-bordered plains of the north eventually found themselves living in a forest! Thus, human populations began to adapt to these changes in brand new ways, with techniques that would have proven utterly useless to their ancestors before them."

Peridot points to a teenage boy, tying some sinews together and placing the ends across an elongated stick. "With nearly all the megafauna gone, the only game animals left were small, sprightly creatures like deer, pigs, and rabbits that could run and hide in the woods. It no longer made sense to go after them with big spears, so forest peoples across the world developed the bow-and-arrow. It was light-weight, much more easily portable, and could target prey with even greater accuracy than an atlatl."

Taking everything in at once, Peridot takes a seat and begins playing with the pebbles around her. You watch as she begins sorting the rocks into groups.

"For some groups, like the humans I've brought you to see here, environmental conditions became so favorable that they decided to change the old ways of living. Instead of a life moving with the herds, bordered by a few weeks or months at a temporary camp for rest and work, people figured that they could stay permanently to one place." Peridot has now placed some of the pebbles into little piles, while leaving others alone. "The end of the last ice age created many regions around the world where there was a great abundance of resources within fair distance of each other. Humans could settle down and take advantage of an almost readily available supply of food, water, and building materials. Many of these places include forest clearings or the edges of riverbanks, like this one. And with so many materials available to support them, human groups simply grew in size!"

"Once such place is here, within the Japanese archipelago." Peridot explains, gesturing to the area around you. "During the Ice Ages, the islands that would become Japan were composed of a single strip of land, connected to the greater Eurasian continent. Humans first reached these parts 32,000 years ago, and remained here as sea levels eventually cut them off from the mainland. By 16,000 years ago, the descendants of these people developed the first cultural complex of Japan, the Jōmon. It is with people like these that we see the start of sedentism: staying in one region permanently and building a life there."

You and Peridot observe a group of Jōmon people working with what appears to be clay. Rolling pieces up into long, tubular wads, they start coiling the clay-tubes together in a circular pattern over a flattened, clay base.

"By staying in one place, humans could begin to tinker and experiment with new technologies that proved to have immediate and effective uses. Starting in East Asia 20,000 years ago and in many independent sites around the world much later, sedentary peoples invented pottery. Previously, foragers had weaved containers out of natural fibers to carry small items around, but baskets like those don't usually last a long time. With pottery, not only could you store items much longer, if you made bigger pots you could keep even more items in storage! And, given that clay pots had to be fired before use, they were durable and useful for cooking meat and foliage and boiling seafood! Jōmon peoples even decorated their pots, using cords to imprint beautiful designs along their surfaces: that's where the name Jōmon comes from, 'cord-pattern'."

Getting up, you follow Peridot as she begins the small trip back to the time machine. "Sedentism often promotes affluence… and humans such as these, blessed with a rich abundance of resources, paved the way for even more unique ways of living. We're about to head west to meet a group of people who were among the first to kick-start one of the most revolutionary inventions of all time! And the strangest part of that story is that the process of invention was totally blind: no one knew what they had created until it was too late."

…

The Levant, 11,500 Years Ago

You find yourself doing a double-take. Peridot has taken you to what looks like another open woodland, almost similar to the one from Japan. But the dawn air is a bit warmer and drier, and the ground feels a tad dustier. There are grasses and wildflowers here too, but of different varieties.

As Peridot makes some repairs on the time machine, she fills you in.

"The road to agriculture - growing and raising your own food in an altered environment - was not a simple one. Your Earth scientists have spent generations trying to figure out the whys and hows of farming. They have developed many ideas as to what caused people to select specific kinds of plants and animals and change them through cultivation and domestication, but the process itself may have been different for everyone. Meaning that these ideas may hold true for some, but not for all… so the truth may never come to light. That's because agriculture, like pottery or bows-and-arrows, was created independently across the world at widely different times, in at least 8 or 11 areas or more! For now, let's just spend time observing some of these different peoples, to see how the world's most valuable crops and farm animals emerged."

With a couple of tweaks, Peridot finishes her repairs, giving the time machine a good smack. Once again, you climb aboard, and Peridot takes the pod for a nice hover along the ground. Southwest Asian trees and shrubs pass by the window. You spot some gazelles leaping across a forest clearing.

"The very first humans to make the transition to agriculture lived here in the Levant, the westernmost part of Southwest Asia," Peridot says. "The Levant itself makes up the middle of a band of territory that historians have named "The Fertile Crescent", which is exactly what it sounds like: a rich land full of diverse plants and animals that sustained human populations in an otherwise parched and dry part of the world. It stretched from the Nile River all the way to the Persian Gulf, flourishing in conditions created by the end of the last ice age. It was in the Fertile Crescent, like on the Japanese islands and elsewhere, that foragers began to settle down and become sedentary. The ones we're about to visit, called Natufians, were among those who first invented agriculture."

It isn't long before the Natufian settlement is found. Peridot parks the time machine safely in some bushes, and opens the hatch to look around.

"The coast seems clear. We're gonna go stop by, say some hellos, and maybe get some up-close insights into the lives of these ancestral-farmers. We've been lucky so far… heeheehee." Taking her lead, you follow Peridot towards the settlement, which is immediately much more impressive than anything seen up to this point. You make out something like 50 houses, with strong but low walls made of solid rock all bound together without mortar, with thatched roofs made of grass, brush, and animal hides. This is no ordinary settlement, but a proper village.

There is small activity about as people are now awaking. One couple exits their home. You can't help but notice how they almost rise out of the ground through their homes. And then it hits: the houses are semi-subterranean, with the lowest levels dug out of the earth and accessible by a small staircase. That's new.

"Play it cool." Peridot whispers, as a trio of tall and well-built women approach you two. They are tan-skinned, with long, dark hair that is covered by extensive headdresses made of bone beads. Their bodies are covered with tanned gazelle-hides, further adorned by bone and shell jewelry.

"Oh! We weren't expecting visitors. Are you here to trade?" one says, clasping their hands together. Another joins in, with a spring in their heel, "I'm afraid all we can spare are acorns and almonds for now… we're still needing to make some new stone points to replace the old ones."

"Thank you ladies, but we're not here to trade! We're… eh… explorers, hoping to… learn the ways of our neighbors." Peridot quips, as you scratch your arm awkwardly.

"Ahh, sounds like you want to trade information then," the third Natufian girl replies, smirking. "Well, cutie… that I think we can do. What's on your mind?"

Peridot blushes, pulling at her collar, "eheheh… you're very kind. Um… see… we're interested in branching out our people's diet, and we were wondering if you knew of any kinds of food that we might like?"

The three girls look to each other and talk it over, before nodding and turning back to you. "Okay then, you're in luck. We were just about to visit our gardens to make the year's harvest. There are plants there that I think you may be interested in," says the first girl.

"Great!" Peridot cheers, before the third woman walks up to her and bends down to get at eye level. She towers over Peridot intimidatingly, with a grin. "But… this is a secret location. You're gonna keep your mouth shut, and you're gonna work to get your meal. How's that for a 'trade' sweetie?"

"Ehm… uh… yes! We will… we will certainly keep your garden a secret!" Peridot shivers, before giving a formal salute, "You have my word, as a Crystal Gem."

Two of the Natufian women look to each other.

"Crystal Gem?"

"They're definitely not from around here."

…

The walk to the Natufian garden is not a short one. The women lead you two through several inconveniently bushy parts of the forest, past jagged rocks, and over a small river just to reach the location. At first, there doesn't appear to be a garden at all, just a mass of different wild plants, but soon the women clarify things.

"We find these plants growing all across the forests of our lands," explains Narkis (the first woman who greeted you). "Many of them are quite delicious if you know what you're doing."

The second woman, Basima, fumbles through her basket as she elaborates, "We've been raising plants here for many years, protected by the groves of oaks. Every village has their secret garden, since we often trade with others for food and supplies, so it's sort of an unspoken rule that the areas be kept secret to all but your own people."

"It's a sacred place," adds Avira (the stern and flirty one). "This garden has provided us with good, hearty food that lasts a long time under storage. We owe it our care."

"Wow, that's amazing." Peridot comments, astonished by the woman's devotion. She turns to you, pointing down at the grasses discreetly. "These plants right here? Some of the very first species that will be domesticated. You're looking at wild peas, wild rye, and perhaps most important of all, wild wheat."

"Oh shoot!" exclaims Basima, furiously. "I was afraid of this."

"What is it?" asks Avira, running over with Narkis.

"Are we too late? A lot of the wheat here has ripened already." Basima replies, bending down to poke a stalk. With even this light brush, all the seeds collapse from the ears and spill onto the ground. "We won't be able to use it."

"No, we're right on schedule." says Narkis, turning to you and Peridot. "This happens sometimes. Wheat is a pretty fragile plant if you're not careful." She turns back to her companion. "Let's just take what we can and go."

"Here… you'll need these." Avira hands you and Peridot two grass-woven baskets and a pair of shearing tools. The Natufian girl points to the devices, "you ever seen one of these before?"

You inspect the tools: the handle is made of a leg bone that has been carved with intricate patterns; the far end curves slightly and is marked by a series of very sharp stone flakes that have been embedded and glued to it.

"No, I don't think so." Peridot lies, looking up to the girl.

Avira smiles, "that right there is a sickle. We use it to harvest the plants here, but you have to cut them just right. What we want is the ears of grain and the uppermost stalks. Don't worry about the stems, they'll wither away on their own. Now get going."

For the next hour, you and Peridot are helping the Natufian girls collect their wild crops. Narkis demonstrates the basic motion: you are simply cutting the wheat over the basket to catch it. The relatively dry weather makes this repetitive work a bit much on you, but Peridot occasionally manages to sneak you a drink of water from a bottle she had been saving.

Peridot herself notices some red flowers growing amongst the wheat and rye and turns to Basima. "Hey!" she calls, "do you want me to collect these too?"

"Oh no no no!" Basima replies, giggling. "That's not food. I planted those there myself. I think they're pretty."

…

Eventually, you and Peridot return to the village, sweating and hauling baskets of wheat, rye, and peas on your backs. The women are having no such trouble, and Avira shows off a bit. The five of you descent into one of the bigger houses of the village. The inside is cool and nice, and you get a good view of how the roof works: the brush is supported on large wooden trunks. All around you is an assortment of different objects - bowls and baskets, pestles and mortars - that you immediately guess is for working food. Narkis is preparing a fire at a rock-hearth, located at the center of the house.

"Okay, place those baskets there and we'll get to work processing everything." Avira commands, pointing to one of the stone walls. "Chop, chop! Let's go."

The first job is pretty simple. You and Peridot find yourself removing the ears of wheat into big wooden bowls. Narkis carefully places some heated pebbles into the bowls, which starts to smoke and dry out the ears. Then, Avira has you transfer the ears into a larger mortar made of oak wood. Guiding you, she demonstrates the process of crushing the ears with a blunt, wooden pestle. She makes sure every last seed has been removed this way. Finally, you delicately separate the seeds from everything else back onto a new mortar.

"Now comes the fun part." Avira says, chuckling. "Just beat those seeds with the pestle as much as you can until they get all powdery. After that, you can relax, and we'll take care of the rest."

After several repeated attempts to get the seeds fully crushed, you begin to notice that you've essentially made flour. Curious.

"Great! Now, gimme gimme." Basima smiles, waggling her fingers as you and Peridot hand her the multiple bowls of flour.

"Narkis, if you please." Basima asks, to which her friend gives her some bowls of water. Before long, Basima has mixed everything and made a sandy-colored dough, which she molds into little rolls. The places them along a wooden tray and sets them to bake on the hearth.

There's a knock by the entrance, causing everyone to turn. A man, dressed with bone beads atop his groomed hair, enters the house carrying several pieces of grilled meat on a sharp stick. "Anyone up for some gazelle? I just cooked it!"

"Oh Jorai, you doll!" Narkis runs up to the man and gives him a warm hug. "Yes, we would love some. You're just in time… we're preparing some bread right now. Care to join us?"

"I'd love to, but unfortunately I need to go inspect the storehouses. We keep getting mice." Jorai replies, shrugging. "I'm at my wits end."

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Narkis encourages, patting the man's shoulder.

Peridot turns to you quietly, "how are you holding up?"

You sigh, rubbing your arms.

"Don't worry, we'll be out of here soon. Let's get a quick bite to eat first and then we'll split. I've always wanted to try Natufian bread… it's one of the oldest baked goods ever crafted." Peridot grins, looking at the rolls cooking on the hearth. "The funny thing is… it seems that the Natufians perfected alcohol long before they figured out how to make bread. Earth scientists have found the remains of really old breweries that predate the production of the first bread. You probably wouldn't like it… it's supposed to taste like a bitter beer with the consistency of grits. Hops wouldn't be used for many thousands of years so… there's not any flavor to it."

"Okay! Who's hungry?" Basima exclaims, using a pair of utensils to remove the bread rolls from the fire and onto a set of bowls along with the helpings of gazelle. She passes them around as everyone sits comfortably by the fire.

Sniffing the buns, you blow on them to cool them off, and carefully pick them up to take a bite. It's almost like dull multi-grain bread.

"Now you get to enjoy the fruits of your labor." Avira says proudly, crossing her arms. "As you can see, this is all very simple to do. If you can locate a nice forest where wheat grows, you can start your own garden and make your own bread! How does that sound?"

"I think our people will very much enjoy this." Peridot responds, a little to into the food. "Thank you for all your help."

"You're very welcome… babe." Avira scoots over to Peridot, nudging her with her shoulder, to which Peridot groans.

…

After staying another half-hour, swapping stories, you and Peridot leave the village to a string of goodbyes. To get your hypothetical garden started, Avira has gifted Peridot a freshly-made sickle and a bag of wheat seeds.

She admires it as you both walk to the time machine. "Well… that was nice. I think we got a very intimate look at Natufian life. You see, for many generations Natufians will visit their gardens and collect wild grains like wheat and rye for use as food. They wouldn't have viewed them as crops or inventory, but as things of beauty in a garden that just happen to have a good use. Did you notice their frustrations with the fragility of the wheat? How easily the seeds spilled from the ears?"

You nod.

"Well," Peridot continues, "in their harvests, they always favored the ears of wheat that remained intact. They selected the best grains that suited them! Over time, like a few hundred years, the Natufians will pick these tougher plants more and more, even going so far as to plant them in little gardens near their homes for easier access. The fragile grasses will gradually disappear from the gene pool, while the sturdier grasses - those that can only be harvested with a sickle - will proliferate. And a plant like that can no longer survive in the wild, because it would never germinate without human intervention. Presto! You've just domesticated wheat!"

Climbing into the time machine, Peridot turns the dial and begins fastforwarding through time. The village before you, with all its human occupants, gradually shifts, with the old homes replaced by newer settlements and newer occupants.

"That process has been estimated to have occurred over a period of 200 years or so, and by the end of that span of time, Natufian society changed completely! They were no longer hunters-and-gatherers that tended to wild plants… they had become true farmers. And this change only became more pronounced after that."

Peridot ends her time-jump, and the date reads: 10,300 Years Ago.

Getting out of the time machine, you find yourself rubbing your eyes in shock.

Everything has really different. The circular, semi-subterranean homes have been replaced by much larger, rectangular houses (and there are many more of them). The stone-brick construction is now gone, and the walls of the buildings are carved out of mud-bricks instead, though the roofs are still made of thatched foliage. Instead of being spaced apart, the houses are all next to each other, connected by small alley-ways, each with their own yards and multiple rooms. It's not unlike a city block.

"Agriculture changed everything." Peridot begins, gesturing to the massive village before you. "The cultivation of grains like wheat, rye, and barley took off among many settlements around the Fertile Crescent. Now that more and more people were growing crops and distributing them to their families and friends, more and more people could be supported. That's because farmland can create many more resources than those found in the wild: they're more productive and the rewards are more readily available than a week's worth of hunting. Provided that there isn't a rough winter or a terrible, stormy summer, domesticated crops were guaranteed sources of food that could be stored and saved for other days. As fields grew, so did the villages that tended them, and with more hands to work the land, so the fields grew even more. A positive-feedback loop began, and the practice of agriculture spread far across the Fertile Crescent, taken up by many different peoples living there."

Peridot handles her bag of wheat with care. "The peoples of the Fertile Crescent gave the world the first domesticated wheat, rye, barley, lentils, and peas. These were the wild plants that they gathered and turned into human-dependent crops. On the animal side… the transition from hunting to raising livestock was a different."

You notice a farmer herding in a collection of sheep into a small pen. They're rather gangly animals, with curved ram's horns and small manes on the undersides of their necks. The sheep yell as the farmer gently nudges them inside with a small whip-shaped stick.

"The Natufians had started out as hunters of gazelles, rabbits, and other species living in the forests and highlands of their world. Even when they started relying on domesticated crops, they were still hunters of wild animals. Eventually, however, stocks of wild game like gazelles began to vanish as the Natufians seemed to be overhunting them. Their attention turned to a few species that tended to be highly social, easily approachable, and quick to breed: sheep, goats, cattle, and pigs. Overtime, the peoples of the Fertile Crescent began to regularly manage these wild herds, killing off the tougher, meaner individuals and leaving the rest to continue reproducing. This is the same process that these humans used to domesticate plants: artificial selection, because the organic populations were being altered by human hands. Eventually, they started moving these managed herds into areas where they could be watched and tended to daily, like that fenced-in pen over there."

Ushering you back into the time machine, Peridot punches in new coordinates.

"That is the birth of agriculture in a nutshell: humans started favoring specific species of wild plants and animals and dedicated time to perfecting them. A change that dramatically transformed their lives from the work of hunting and gathering to the long labor of tending land and raising crops and livestock. It's not something that anyone would have sought out for its own sake… no one got up one day and was like "I'm going to invent farming!" It was just a slow, unconscious, societal change. And as I've explained before, it's a process that happened independently in many parts of the world and at different times. I'm going to take you to two more places to get an idea of how the people living there started agriculture of their own."

…

Present Day China, 9,000 Years Ago

Peridot takes the time machine for a small cruise along a wide river, interspersed with intense, raging waterfalls. The area surrounding the river is dry, rocky, and mountainous, bordered by dense forests of conifer trees.

"It seems that agriculture developed twice in East Asia, along the two major rivers that flow through the country of China in modern times: the Yellow or Huang He River in the north, and the Yangtze River in the south! We're sailing down the Yellow River right now, if you couldn't tell by the yellowish tint in the water… that's all silt being carried down from a great plateau called the Loess." Peridot gestures to the water, where you can't help but grimace at the dirty water.

Peridot notices this: "I know it doesn't look very nourishing, but for the type of grass that grows wild in these regions - millet - the water is more than enough. After all, millet likes dry soils, and the soils of the Loess are smooth enough to support plants like that. Given its plentifulness, it's no surprise that the foraging peoples of the Yellow River basin took a liking to it."

Moving down the river at an increased speed, Peridot happens upon a small village located just beyond the riverbank. Their homes are semi-subterranean houses with straw-roofs, not unlike those of the Natufians, but your attention is drawn to the massive series of pits dug into the earth near the homes. They're covered by wooden posts, and you notice a woman dumping millet grains from a clay pot inside one of the pits.

"It's likely that East Asian foragers tended to wild grasses in just the same way as the people in the Fertile Crescent, selecting the kinds that they liked and processing them into food. However, while the Natufians made use of wooden sickles, Yellow River peoples fashioned spades out of stone to cultivate their millet. Because, again, millet grows in the soft, damp soils of the Loess, unlike the dry, forest dirt of Southwest Asia which supports wheat and rye… spades are just easier to use here than sickles."

Peridot takes the pod and travels around the village, passing by small pens of pigs. There are rows of women in the fields, digging up millet plants and transferring them into clay pots. Taking one last look, Peridot sets the time machine into overdrive and before long you're cruising at a decent pace away from the Yellow River.

"For the people living along the Yangtze River, their lands were notably different." Peridot explains, checking the compass on the time machine's panel. You're traveling southward. "It's much wetter and warmer, the perfect place for one of the most important crops of the present day, rice! Rather than damp soils, rice prefers to grow in shallow water, and this reliance on liquid means that you don't have to wait a year to harvest it! Rice always replenishes itself after a few months. That was a big draw for the people of the river valley."

Finally reaching her intended destination, Peridot slows the time machine down to a reasonable pace. The Yangtze River before you looks very calm, almost miniscule compared to the spectacularly steep mountains parallel to it. Cruising down the river, Peridot searches far and wide for signs of human activity. The mountainous terrain slowly gives way to marshland and forests of pine, where ferns just litter the ground. A trio of rhinoceros are drinking from the river, and one looks up to observe the strange pod hovering past them. You spot something in the distance, grabbing Peridot's shoulder and pointing towards it. "I'm on it." Peridot pilots the time machine, approaching a small fleet of boats. There are men on the boats, dressed in leather hides and sporting groomed facial hair, fishing for catfish and carp. They've already caught a fair amount of food.

"Wow! We must be close to a village." Peridot grins, piloting away from the fishermen and further down the river. Sure enough, you approach the most remarkable settlement yet, seemingly built into the river itself. With the area basically founded on marshland, all the wooden houses are supported on either on stilts made of pine logs or heaps of raised earth. The entire village is surrounded by a tall, wooden fence, with an opening at one end: this is likely where the boating fishermen leave and enter their home. There is a little bit of movement outside, where children are running after each other on the wooden planks and bridges connecting the homes, and men and women are constructing clay pots.

Taking care not to disturb the peace, Peridot finds a group of women working in the shallows neighboring the village. They're hard at work sowing rice seeds into the water beneath their feet.

"Foragers here began to select for hardier rice crops, choosing the plants that retained their seed and needed human aid for release, and they too began to slowly rely more and more on these simple grains than many of the wild plants that were growing around them. Thus began a repeated cycle of work for the people of the Yangtze: taking every few months to collect their rice crops, and sowing the seeds for the next cycle. They took care to manage the waters, guard their plants from weeds, and filling their baskets and pots to the brim with seeds. The simple exercise of gathering wild rice turned into a laborious series of chores. But it was fruitful work, because like the Natufians this bounty of rice crops ended up feeding and supporting greater numbers of people. So, generally, life was pretty good here."

Peridot punches in new coordinates. "In time, the millet-farmers of the Yellow River and the rice-farmers of the Yangtze River perfected their craft, expanding their populations, and eventually coming into contact with each other. In all that time, societies changed, and the seeds of Chinese civilization were sprouting. But… eh… I'm getting ahead of myself. Onward!"

…

Present-Day south-central Mexico, 7,000 Years Ago

"Agriculture in the Americas is a bit of a different story." Peridot begins, taking the time machine over great subtropical forests. "While there were many areas across the two continents where the conditions were notably favorable and resources plentiful enough to settle down and create great villages, most everyone didn't for the longest time. Native American populations remained surprisingly low across their lands, probably because they were relative newcomers here, compared to places like Africa or Eurasia where there has been a continuous human presence for tens of thousands of years. And yet, the sparks of agricultural development had been underway from an early age."

Passing over some clearings in the rainforest, you observe groups of people using fire to clear away some of the trees and brush. Gray smoke rises above the canopy.

"Native Americans living in forested environments often managed their hunting and gathering grounds by burning away parts of the land. This form of weeding encourages new growth of plants and increases the productivity of the soil, further providing food to families and communities. Out of all the wild plants utilized by these peoples, the first American crops to eventually be domesticated were bottle gourds and squash." Peridot says, drawing your attention to one of the women below, drinking water through a gourd just like a canteen.

"Bottle gourds - or calabash - likely floated to the Americas from Africa, since those found here are closely related to the African species. They're quite durable and resilient plants: you can hollow out the toxic insides and make all kinds of things, like water bottles or containers for food. Squash was used in a similar way, although the seeds inside are actually edible when you roast them. Both these species were being cultivated by 10,000 years ago, during a time when all Native Americans were still foragers of wild foods."

Moving onward, Peridot eventually leaves the rainforest, coming upon the increasingly dry shrubland and hilly terrain.

"By 7,000 years ago - the time which I've taken you - new crops began to be utilized, including another species of grass that feeds billions of people across the globe in the present day, maize. You may know it as corn, and I myself know a thing of two about that, given all the time spent growing it on Lapis' and I's farm. Ahh, those were the days." Peridot sighs, leaning back. "The funny thing is… the ancestors of corn looked remarkable different from your big, yellow, on-the-cob varieties. In fact, when it first started to be cultivated 7,000 years ago, it wasn't bred for use as a grain! Just watch."

Peridot moves the time machine towards a small depression in the landscape, where a group of Native Americans has settled down for the evening by a small cave site. A great fire is roaring nearby as several of the adults are laughing and telling stories.

Settling the pod down just close enough, Peridot points to one of the women, picking out tiny, diminished cobs from a gourd and chewing on them.

"Whereas wheat, rye, rice, and millet became staple crops for the peoples of the Fertile Crescent and East Asia, corn did not form a major part of the diets of the Native Americans who grew them, which lived throughout the southern reaches of what will become Mexico. The wild ancestor of corn, a curious plant called teosinte, does not produce big enough cobs to make things like bread. Instead, Native Americans here simply chewed on the cobs and enjoyed the sweet, sugary taste of the juices. Corn was domesticated first as a kind of candy!"

Chuckling, Peridot pulls out her bag of wheat and fidgets with it. "Eventually, these native peoples of Mexico will figure out how to ferment the seeds and create a kind of beer that will later be known as chichi. That will pick up remarkably quickly, and corn will spread outward across Mexico and beyond, to many different parts of the Americas. And, in time, some groups will settle down, become sedentary, and kickstart their own societal changes, just like the Natufians, and the people of the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers, and in many other regions around the world. Don't worry, we'll check up on them in time."

Turning to you, Peridot pulls out her tablet.

"One of the most important things to remember about all of this - sedentism, agriculture, domestication of animals - is that the process wasn't universal. Many peoples will continue to live as hunters and gatherers, relying on their foraging to provide them with food. They'll build temporary structures, trade with their neighbors, and share ideas, in much the same way as our friends of Ice Age Europe 30,000 years ago. And other people will pick up the sedentary lifestyle, but never develop agriculture, like that family of Jōmon from earlier. What I'm trying to say is, agriculture was never an ultimate goal of human societies. It was an accident! People never meant to invent it, it just happened over time due to the complex series of environmental and social changes brought about by the end of the glacial periods. And for all its benefits, agriculture brought on some major issues as well."

Flipping through her tablet, Peridot pulls up a photo of some toe bones, excavated from an archaeological site. They don't look healthy. "Farming takes up a tremendous amount of labor for the people who practice it. Once those humans began to spend more and more hours working their lands, planting and harvesting and processing their crops, their bodies started changing. The first instances of arthritis show up in the archaeological record during the origins of agriculture: this lady spent so much time on her feet, kneeling down and working, that her toes became deformed and worn down."

Turning to another picture, this time of an early farmer's teeth, plagued by decay. "By limiting their diet to a few select crops out of the abundance of wild species surrounding them, farming peoples often didn't get the whole suite of nutrients that they needed to carry on their daily lives. Their health, in general, declined. Dental hygiene was pretty much ruined as generations of feasting on grains, grains, grains promoted the spread of bacteria that produce cavities. And that's not to forget the health of the body as a whole: growth rates and life expectancies fell for many of the farming populations. And don't even get me started on the swapping of parasites and diseases between livestock and humans as the two started living in close contact… yuk!"

"Perhaps most difficult of all," Peridot finishes, putting away her tablet, "is that one bad season can place enormous pressure on farmer populations. By depending on such a small helping of plants, you risk having nothing to eat should a plague or winter frost wipe out all your fields. More often than not farmers couldn't turn to wild resources as a backup, because they had dramatically changed their surrounding landscape through forest clearance, overgrazing by livestock, or other means. They made themselves vulnerable."

You place a hand to your mouth, and can't help but look at Peridot with a shocked expression. "Yeah, I know… it's tough to think about. Agriculture was a game changer in more ways than one. A blessing and a curse. It kickstarted many of the great societal and cultural changes that led to the major civilizations of the world, and it introduced a spectacular world of culinary arts, creating organics that gave more food to more people than ever before. But it also took away the benefits that came from a foraging lifestyle, where hunters-and-gatherers tended to be healthier, longer-living, fed on a well-rounded diet, and worked less hours. I'm a gem, so those matters don't affect me personally. That's all on you… which life sounds better?"

…

To be continued!