People of the Earth (56 page)

 
          
 
Snail Shell nodded. "We've talked about
it, Black Moon. Wind Runner makes sense. We've seen the Hollow Flute coming.
Maybe we can drive them back. But we can't do it today . . . and today's all
we've got."

 
          
 
Black Moon exhaled, his spirit sagging. He
looked around at the waking camp. "A half-day's walk to the north? And you
came through the middle of their war camp?"

 
          
 
Blue Wind nodded. "Wind Runner said the
best way to make it here in time was to walk right through their camp. I
thought we were dead, but it worked just like he said. Only one man looked up
and asked us what we were doing." Blue

           
 
Wind chuckled. "Wind Runner told him that
we were Black Point warriors come to scout the camp. The foolish Hollow Flute
didn't believe him!"

 
          
 
“And not only that," Snail Shell chimed
in, "Wind Runner told him that if he didn't want us shitting in his robes,
maybe he'd better let us out of camp. It was dark, very black, and the guard
just told us to go on."

 
          
 
Black Moon gaped. "Just told you to walk
out?"

 
          
 
Wind Runner grinned sheepishly. 44 There were
so many warriors I knew he couldn't know each one. Why else would three
warriors walk out of camp in the middle of the night?"

 
          
 
The old clan leader weighed the truth in their
words and chuckled as he shook his head. “Perhaps you have come to lead us,
Wind Runner. I remember your wise words on the day you fought One Man. All
right. I hear your counsel. I see the respect in the eyes of these warriors who
accompany you—and I respect them."

 
          
 
Then Black Moon raised his voice and shouted,
“Everyone! Get up! We must move camp! The Hollow Flute are coming, and they
have many, many warriors! I need runners to go warn the other camps. Hurry!
Hurry! We don't have much time."

 
          
 
Wind Runner shifted on trembling legs; a sense
of Tightness filled his soul. Perhaps now the ghosts of the White Clay would
rest easier. He glanced behind him to where the hills hid the coming flood of
Hollow Flute. “We've only bought a little time."

 
          
 
Snail Shell stood beside him, uneasy eyes on
the horizon. “You think we should go south of the
Sideways
Mountains
you talk of?"

 
          
 
“I think that's the only way."

 
          
 
“And what if the Earth People try to fight
us?"

 
          
 
Wind Runner shrugged. “I think, from everything
I've heard, that we can beat the Earth People, chase them off. They live in
holes in the ground. Their old women run the camps. What we need, we'll
take."

 
          
 
“And if they try to stop us?"
Aspen
asked as she appeared beside him.

 
          
 
"Let them." Blue Wind rattled his
war darts.

 
          
 
"I'm going. That's all there is to
it." White Ash straightened from stuffing her things into a pack. She
crossed her arms and leveled her defiant gaze on Bad Belly.

 
          
 
He tugged nervously at his hide coat. She
stood dressed in finely worked hides the Dreamer had given her; he'd obtained
them from the Wolf People. She wore a bighorn sheepskin coat, a pair of pants,
and a calfskin shirt that had been decorated with elk ivories, bear teeth, and
colorful quill work. The old man's generosity had even extended to the pack
White Ash now proceeded to fill.

 
          
 
Bad Belly sighed, premonition eating at him.
He stared out at the marvelous view offered by Singing Stones' shelter as he
marshaled his arguments. The old Dreamer sat on his sandstone boulder, face
blank as a piece of wood.

 
          
 
Bad Belly adopted a soothing tone. "You
didn't have the vision that I did. Terrible things are going to happen up
there, and I-"

 
          
 
"I'm going," she insisted.

 
          
 
"But the Dream. Terrible—"

 
          
 
"Especially the Dream." Her jaw
hardened. "Bad Belly, you need me. What are you going to do? Hmm? Do you
have any kind of plan worked out?"

 
          
 
"Well, I-"

 
          
 
"Have you given any thought at all to
this?"

 
          
 
"I just know that I have to-—"

 
          
 
"That's what I thought."

 
          
 
He lifted his good arm and let it drop. Then
he kicked at the dirt. "There are Wolf People up there. You don't want to
go, do you? In your heart? After what I told you I Dreamed?"

 
          
 
She closed her eyes and shook her head.
"No."

           
 
"Then what is this foolishness? Why
tempt—"

 
          
 
"Because I have to." Her face worked
as she stepped close and looked into his eyes. "Because I can't let you do
it by yourself. Because if anything happened, I'd want to die. I'd never know
if my cowardice caused your death."

 
          
 
Bad Belly shrugged irritably. "All
right." His heart swelled as he smiled at her. "It may be a
mistake—but I guess I ought to be used to making mistakes by now." He
reached over to rub her hair between his fingers. "Besides, I think I want
you with me."

 
          
 
She matched his smile with one of her own.
"Then let's go.

 
          
 
From where it lay beside the hearth, he took
the partially completed necklace of stone-fish teeth and placed it in the pouch
that hung around his neck. He stared out at the distance one last time, letting
the feel of the land soothe his worried soul. Then perplexed lines etched his
forehead. "Uh . . . which way do we go? I mean, I know we're going up into
the
Grass
Meadow
Mountains
, but which trails do we take? How do we
keep from getting lost?"

 
          
 
"See?" White Ash gloated.
"That's why you need me."

 
          
 
"Go three days' walk to the east along
the ridge tops," Singing Stones said mildly. "Where the
Badwater
heads north into the hills, follow it. At the
headwaters, take the ridge to the east; the walking should be good there. It
should take you all the way up to the timber. When you reach the timber, you'll
find the buffalo trail. Follow that north into the
Grass
Meadow
Mountains
."

 
          
 
"How do I know where the Wolf Bundle
is?" Bad Belly asked. "Do I just ask the Wolf People?"

 
          
 
"That doesn't sound very smart,"
White Ash growled.

 
          
 
Singing Stones looked back and forth between
them. "If you are worthy, you need not worry. Power won't let you stumble
around for too long. Not if the Bundle is calling you. Something will happen to
show you the way."

 
          
 
Bad Belly listened intently. Am I worthy? He
looked down at himself, taking stock. What he saw didn't inspire confidence.

 
          
 
"What happens after we get the Wolf
Bundle?" White Ash settled her pack on her shoulders. "Have you
thought about that?"

            
Bad Belly stared blankly at her.
"Well, not exactly."

 
          
 
White Ash turned to the Dreamer. "Thank
you for letting us stay with you. Can we come back here? Would you want
us?"

 
          
 
The old man smiled serenely. "You will be
back ... if you live."

 
          
 
"If we live," White Ash mumbled. A
haunted look hid just behind her determined expression.

 
          
 
"Power never gives you any
promises," Singing Stones reminded her gently. "I will wait for you.
I have a lot to teach you. The Bundle has a lot to teach you. It will not be
easy."

 
          
 
"If we live," she repeated under her
breath.

 
          
 
White Ash helped Bad Belly loop the pack over
his shoulder and they walked to the edge of the trail. Trouble trotted eagerly
ahead.

 
          
 
Bad Belly looked back at Singing Stones,
sitting under the magpie's perch. "Thank you for letting us stay with you.
We'll be back."

 
          
 
The Dreamer lifted his hand and smiled.
"Good luck, Man of the People. If Power wills, I will see you again. If
not, I will join you in the One."

 
          
 
Bad Belly nodded and waved farewell before he
stepped out in Trouble's tracks. A curious mixture of worry and happiness
struggled in his chest. The terrible Dream haunted him, bits and pieces
replaying in his memory.

 
          
 
"So it's you and me and Trouble
again," he said quietly.

 
          
 
White Ash expelled a disbelieving breath.

 
          
 
He let the sunshine warm him as he walked. How
could anyone think of death and ruin on this delightfully warm day? But all he
had to do was close his eyes and he could see the evil Dreamer's face.
"Who do you think the lame warrior in the Dream is?"

 
          
 
She didn't answer for a moment. "I don't
know. I've known several lame men during my life—but all of them are dead now.
From what you've told me about your Dreams, I don't want to meet him."

           
 
"I don't either."

 
          
 
"We don't sound like the heroes in the
winter stories, do we?"

 
          
 
Ahead of them, Trouble bounded up the trail
that skirted the sandstone wall and led to the ridge top. Bad Belly said,
"You know, I still can't quite convince myself that Power didn't make some
silly mistake. Someone like Warm Fire should be going after the Wolf Bundle. Or
maybe your Wind Runner. You'd think Power would pick a strong, brave young
warrior—not Bad Belly."

 
          
 
The trail bent sharply, following a narrow
crack in the sandstone wall that led out on top. Deer passed here, and a person
could make his way easily. As they stepped out of the defile, Bad Belly stopped
to take one last look at the star wheel.

 
          
 
A deep frown lined White Ash's face and she
said, "I don't know why we were chosen instead of some warrior. I've been
trying to understand, to see the sense of it, but I can't." She paused.
"Power has changed my life from the beginning. Look at me. I should be at
Three Forks, taking my place in the decisions that affect the camp, learning my
duties from Green Fire and
Owlclover
. I'd have a
husband by now, and maybe a child or two, with another swelling my belly. I
should have been worrying about the Spirits, and about which root grounds should
be collected this year. But here I am, setting out to help you steal the Wolf
People's most sacred Bundle so I can Dream a new way for the Sun People."
She sighed wearily. "It's all lunacy."

 
          
 
Bad Belly
rehitched
his pack so he could take her hand. "It's a long way. Let's go. Maybe we
can find the Bundle and sneak it away before anyone notices."

 
          
 
"And if they notice? If they come after
us?'"

 
          
 
He gave her a sidelong glance. "Then
Power will see just what a coward I really am."

 
          
 
At the memory of the Dream, his heart sank in
his chest, and the stone-fish's tooth necklace seemed to weigh at his neck.
After all of Left Hand's consideration and the honor of the gift he'd given,
stealing the Wolf Bundle would be a dirty way to repay him.

           
 
Wind Runner sat down in the place Black Moon
indicated. He settled himself cross-legged and tried to compose his thoughts.
The tact that Black Moon had placed him so near the head of the council circle
meant that the clan leader would be asking for his counsel.

 
          
 
Men and women arrived in ones and twos to seat
themselves in the shade of the cottonwood. The heavy robes had been left in the
lodges, and the gaily decorated clothing reserved for warmer days had appeared.
This would be a good day for such dress; the wind blew pleasantly down from the
Red
Rock
Mountains
. For this important council, people wore
their best: bone-bead chokers, eagle-bone breastplates, oyster and
olivella
shells Traded from the coast, bright feathers, and
sleek furs. Many had painted the leather of their deer- and antelope-hide
dresses, the favorite colors being yellow and, especially, the deep purple
obtained from bitterbrush.

 
          
 
In contrast to the finery they wore, the faces
of the people betrayed their concern and, in some cases, actual fear. Nor can I
blame them. Rumors have been running like a grass fire in late summer. We've
run from the Hollow Flute when the people would rather have fought. But he
couldn't shake the feeling that they teetered on the edge of a fearful abyss
and one wrong step would kill them all.

 
          
 
Wind Runner pursed his lips and frowned up at
the sky. Overhead, the cottonwoods were fuzzy with the first green of spring
leaves. The
Stinking
River
flowed a dart's cast to the north of the
council circle that had been set up in the open grassy spot before Black Moon's
lodge. The Black Point had camped slightly downstream from the noxious
hot springs
that gave the river its name. Even on a day
as warm as this, the steam could be seen where the river exited the canyon to
the west. Behind the tree-speckled front range of hills, the crags of the
Red
Rock
Mountains
rose against the eggshell-blue sky.

 
          
 
A single butte marked the northern horizon; a
rounded hump of sandstone capped it, as if Thunderbird, or the Great Bear, had
dropped a giant heart atop the mountain.