People of the Earth (72 page)

 
          
 
"Then let's go see this land." Black
Moon looked back and gave the signal to move on. The Black Point bunched up in
the pass stared and pointed, talking with animation.

 
          
 
Wind Runner stepped out, rattling his darts, a
curious excitement mixing with his anxiety. If White Ash had gone anywhere,
she'd be down there, somewhere in that tremendous basin.

 
          
 
Aspen
walked beside him, her presence comforting.
On the way to the top of the
Sideways
Mountains
, they'd spent a great deal of time talking.
Now he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noting the way she walked, how
the leather of her dress conformed to the swell of hip and muscular thigh.

 
          
 
Why do I always seek her companionship? Is it
because she and Hot Fat are the only ones I can talk to? Not even White Ash
listened with the attention
Aspen
gives me. She begins to fill my thoughts.

 
          
 
"It looks better than the country we just
left," she told him. "You can see more green down there. By the look
of the sage, the rains fall more often."

 
          
 
"It's a good time of year to come."
He squinted up at the Sun, riding high in the sky. "When we fled south of
the Fat Beaver, we'd lost everything. The first winter wasn't so bad, but when
the band split, things grew worse. I think this time we will be fine. We have
lodges and many warriors. The packs are full of supplies, and the dogs are
healthy and can haul them all."

           
 
She shot him a speculative glance. "And
only the strength of the Earth People has to be tested."

 
          
 
. He stepped around an outcrop of dark,
lichen-mottled rock. The soil had a buff tone here, and the loose gravel in it
grated underfoot. Sparse grasses grew here and there, while the slopes grew
squaw currant, bearberry, and serviceberry. They followed a game trail down to
the bottom of a shallow drainage. To the left, the ridge had begun to rise. The
right side of the valley looked steeper, and he could see outcrops of brown
rock.

 
          
 
"We will face them," he declared.
"And I think they'll break."

 
          
 
She pursed her lips, frowning. "I've been
thinking about the things you and Sage Ghost have said about the Earth People.
I think we should capture as many of their women as we can."

 
          
 
He cocked his head. "Oh?"

 
          
 
"They know the land. Know the
plants."

 
          
 
Each step she took stretched the soft
calf-hide dress over her muscular bottom. He bit his lip to drive the distracting
thoughts away and tried to concentrate on her words—and on White Ash's face.

 
          
 
"That night above the White Clay camp we
talked about how the Black Point would have to change their ways.
Remember?" She flashed him a smile. "I've given it a lot of thought.
If there are new things to be learned, why not capture those who know them? You
told me the women make all the decisions, that they know the root grounds and
where certain foods can be found. They know how to keep things so they will
last through winter. They know what to eat and what not to."

 
          
 
The logic of her suggestion appealed to him.
"We could use them to do the work. If our people didn't have to do it,
they'd be less likely to grumble, less likely to long for the old ways. The new
way would provide for them."

 
          
 
"The Earth People could do more of the
work." She jerked her head back at the following band. "Do you think
Pika
and Cottontail want to grind these grass seeds the
Earth People eat? Not at all. They'll work hides, make lodges, and hunt, but
they won't want to gather seeds."

 
          
 
Wind Runner rattled his darts happily.
"All this time I've worried about what would happen when we got here.
You've given me the answer."

 
          
 
She chuckled. "Then perhaps you'll never
take me for granted again."

 
          
 
He looked over at her. "I didn't know I
ever did." At her odd refusal to meet his eyes, he changed the subject.
"No wonder so many people come to you for advice."

 
          
 
She made an empty gesture with her hands.
"Even the old women are starting to ask what I think about their problems.
Sometimes my head is so full of other people's troubles I don't have time for
my own."

 
          
 
"Tell them you're busy."

 
          
 
Her delicate smile carried a wistful twist.
"No. I can't do that. Some have come to depend on me. I listen, and then I
think about what they've said. If it's serious, I talk it over with
Grandfather. He's a very wise man."

 
          
 
"Someday you'll take Black Moon's
place." He looked up at the rugged land that rose around them. He could
make out mountain sheep atop the rocky talus. Their dun sides and white butts
contrasted to the rock. A raven baited a golden eagle in the updrafts; the
eagle flipped on his back to expose talons to his playful black companion.

 
          
 
She lifted an eyebrow and shot him an
inquiring look. "Some are beginning to say that about you."

 
          
 
"Me?" He almost stumbled over a
sagebrush.

 
          
 
"People have begun to listen to you. When
you speak, you don't do it rashly. You give a lot of consideration to what you
say. Before a decision is made in council, they ask you. Haven't you
noticed?"

 
          
 
"I just tell them what I think. I don't
try to argue anything."

 
          
 
"That's the point." She gazed out
over the new land. "You tell them, then leave it at that. A leader of the
clan can't order anyone to do anything. He can only suggest. If time proves his
wisdom, more and more people listen . . . until he comes to speak for all the
people. If you tried to make them do something, they'd ignore you."

 
          
 
. "Like Fire Rabbit?" He
sluffed
his coat off his shoulders, squinting up at the
burning sun.

 
          
 
She lifted her hands and slapped them to her
sides. "He tries too hard. He's always trying to lead, not to be a leader.
There's a difference."

 
          
 
"I'm not trying to be a leader."

 
          
 
A mischievous expression molded her features.
"Aren't you?"

 
          
 
He made a negative gesture. "Like you, I
wouldn't have time for my own problems."

 
          
 
"I think we should go that way." She
pointed at the ridge that rose to their left. "A drainage like this one
usually ends up in a steep-walled canyon with a lot of brush. Hard-going for
the elders and the dog travois."

 
          
 
"You are a leader."

 
          
 
She swatted him with a playful hand.
"Stop it."

 
          
 
He turned off, angling along the rocky slope.
When they topped the ridge, Wind Runner noted that below a rocky shelf, it ran
down into the basin in a gentle slope. From this vantage, he could see she'd
been right. The lower part of the canyon not only narrowed into a steep slit,
but brush choked it like a green mat.

 
          
 
In one place on the gentle slope before them,
a rocky outcrop barred easy travel. Wind Runner jumped down and studied it.
"Over there. That's the easiest route down."

 
          
 
She called back to Black Moon and pointed.
Wind Runner took her hand, helping her down the steep, rocky face. For a moment
they paused. Sunlight lit the healthy flush of her soft face. His flesh
prickled, aware of her lithe body so close. Her pleasant scent filled his
nostrils. He stared into the depths of her knowing brown eyes. For the briefest
instant their souls touched; then he let go of her hand and turned away.

 
          
 
He had to frown to make himself think of White
Ash.

           
 
Bitterbrush ducked out of the night and
entered the Round Rock clan's shelter. She peered around in the darkness until
her eyes adjusted and she recognized the figure sprawled on the robes.
"Larkspur? What are you doing here? I thought you'd be out telling tales
with the others until dawn."

 
          
 
"Not as young as I used to be."
Larkspur sat up. "Why are you here?"

 
          
 
Bitterbrush looked out at the Gathering. A
multitude of fires marked the camp locations. Silhouettes moved back and forth
in the firelight between the camps. Overhead, the rustling leaves of the
cottonwoods reflected the jumping light in amber tones; the dome of the sky
sparkled with an infinity of stars.

 
          
 
"It's turning cooler. I thought I'd get a
robe." Bitterbrush rubbed her belly as she sat next to Larkspur. "If
I eat anything else, I'll fall over."

 
          
 
"
Lot
of food here." Larkspur rustled her
bedding. "Been a good year." A pause. "People have been treating
you good?"

 
          
 
Bitterbrush caught the undercurrent.
"Black Hand has been the spirit of each camp we've visited. He's no fool.
I think the witching story is stopped. People are funny, they'd rather believe
it's foolishness. Safer that way."

 
          
 
"It is foolishness." Larkspur hawked
and spat into the night. "Three Forks clan has been put in its place, and
you and Black Hand are off to a good start. What more could you ask for?"

 
          
 
Bitterbrush closed her eyes. Warm Fire.
"Black Hand is a good man ... I like him."

 
          
 
"Where is he?"

 
          
 
Bitterbrush gestured into the darkness. "
Sand
Wash
camp. Over just under the ridge there."

 
          
 
"The one in the rocks?"

 
          
 
"That's it."