People of the Fire (31 page)

 
          
 
Little Dancer lifted an eyebrow. They'd eaten
a lot of plants recently, at Two Smokes' urging. He'd developed a liking for
sego lily and biscuit root. In the fall, chokecherries and plums made a
wonderful treat. Serviceberry had become one of his favorite meals.

 
          
 
"
Buffalo
are the most important thing in the world
to you, aren't they?"

 
          
 
"Part of my soul is buffalo." Hungry
Bull stared thoughtfully into the distance as they walked toward the trees.
"It hurts to think that buffalo are so scarce. I remember the stories from
when I was a boy. I remember my grandfather talking about the old days when a
couple hundred would be killed at a time. Then the People were so numerous we
could run a big kill. Everyone had a specific duty in the kill. The circles
were complete then.
Buffalo
and the People were one. They fed us and we prayed for their souls to the
Wise One Above. Our souls mixed with buffalo as theirs mixed with ours."

 
          
 
"And here?"

 
          
 
"Here I'll manage to trap maybe ten or
fifteen buffalo. More than enough to feed us, but not so many as my skill would
permit if there were more buffalo up here." He hesitated. *'Maybe that's
the way it should be. A wise hunter takes only what he needs and a bit more for
surplus in case something spoils too soon, or wolf or coyote or a grizzly get
into it."

 
          
 
Little Dancer grabbed the small end of a
lodgepole
his father indicated. He lifted and followed,
staggering under the long pole. Straining, he got his end into the fence where
his father indicated.

 
          
 
Did the past always outshine the future? Did
life always have to get worse instead of better? It seemed that way. How many
times had he overheard White Calf saying the world was changing? And if it kept
getting worse, whatever would become of him? The images from the Dream ate at
his peace. The people in his life had turned to unstable stone under his feet,
seeking to drop him into the abyss. He caught himself staring uneasily at his
father's broad back as they laid pole upon pole onto the fence.

 
          
 
Using a sharp
chert
flake he'd struck from a well-used core, Blood Bear absently shaved at a
thumb-thick willow stalk. Under his practiced hands, the bark peeled in long
curling strips to expose the white wood beneath. This piece would make a
wonderful dart shaft. One end he would hollow and fletch to rest in the
atlatl
hook he'd laboriously carved from moose antler, traded
from north of the
Big
River
by Three Rattles. The other end would be
countersunk to create a socket for a
foreshaft
made
of hardwood like chokecherry or ash.

 
          
 
He walked as he whittled on the shaft,
absently glancing up at the menstrual lodge. Elk Charm should have already made
her way to One Cast's lodge. He'd been up since before dawn, waiting at the
edge of camp. She should have come. And if he'd missed her, she should have had
to excuse herself to the bushes by now. So where had she gone?

 
          
 
She'd always intrigued him. Despite her young
age, the way she walked so straight and poised had caught his eye more than
once over the last year or so. He'd watched with growing interest as her coming
womanhood had become apparent. Of all the women, she and Tanager would be the
most beautiful. Tanager would be the most passionate, proud, and
stubborn—provided anyone could catch her long enough to bed her. Elk Charm,
however, had a vulnerability that piqued his desire. She always had her chin
just so, as if she were shyly aware of her beauty and charm. Her hips curved
nicely over her thin, long legs. When she didn't wear her hair in a braid, it
hung down below her waist in a blue-black wave that caught the sunlight and
sent it gleaming into a thousand separate rays of light. Most of all, he
enjoyed those dancing eyes of hers. Blood Bear, for all of his advancing age,
would see those eyes shine for him.

 
          
 
He frowned slightly, sighting down the shaft
of his new dart . . . and right into the menstrual lodge. Despite the morning
shadows, he could tell no one sat within.

 
          
 
Perplexed, he wandered slowly up the path,
eyes on the ground as he shaved a knot flush to the shaft. The long years of
hunting and tracking stood him in good stead. Here Rattling Hooves had walked up
the path and returned. As he neared the entrance, he found a fainter imprint
half-scuffed in the dry grass. Elk Charm! It had to be.

 
          
 
Frowning slightly, he continued his
perambulations, slowly circling the camp, checking for tracks. Curious. Usually
a newly made woman finished her bleeding and came to camp surrounded in the
glow of her bashful pride. Saucy Elk Charm should have done exactly that,
basking in her glory at this most auspicious of occasions.

 
          
 
Another track. He whistled to himself, walking
along, mind racing while he studiously worked on his dart shaft. Elk Charm had
taken the trail south. No doubt of that.

 
          
 
He paused, staring down the trail, knowing the
way it ran along the upper reaches of
Clear
River
before it turned east to drop into the
canyon and finally tumble out through the Red Wall and into the plains beyond
where it ran into
Mud
River
in the land of the Short Buffalo People.

 
          
 
So what was down there? Why would a freshly
made woman miss all the celebrating in her honor? Why would she miss the chance
to hear everyone compliment her and receive the gifts that would come her way?

 
          
 
Blood Bear sucked at his lip and backtracked
to his lodge. He checked, as he always did, to see the Wolf Bundle on the
tripod at the rear of the lodge. Silly thing. For all the time he'd been forced
to listen to Cut Feather talk about the bundle's Power, he'd never experienced
it. During the last four years since he'd walked into the main Red Hand camp,
the Wolf Bundle held high over his head in triumph, he'd never felt the
slightest tingle of Power.

 
          
 
"Cut Feather was a fool," he
grumbled. "My people are as great a bunch of fools for believing such
nonsense."

 
          
 
He reached over, thumping the Wolf Bundle with
a thick forefinger. "Take that, Wolf Bundle. I found you and brought you
back. Me, Blood Bear! And without any Power!" He lifted his lip and
snorted. "And what good did you do the
berdache
?
Huh? For all the time he had you, he's a cripple now, living on the charity of
White Calf, an outcast Short Buffalo hunter, and my goodwill!" He shook
his head. "Fool!"

 
          
 
He opened one of the packs laid against the
rear wall and found what he'd been searching for, bringing forth a small pouch.
He undid the knot at the top and poured out the contents: six beautiful elk
ivories extracted from the upper jaws of young bulls.

 
          
 
He poured them back into the pouch and ducked
out of his lodge, strolling lazily across the camp.

 
          
 
"Is anyone home in the lodge of One
Cast?" he called pleasantly. "Blood Bear comes on this special
morning with a gift for a new woman."

 
          
 
"Just a minute." He recognized
Rattling Hooves and heard the shifting about inside. Too bad about her. If only
he'd been around when her first husband stepped out on that unstable snow and
triggered the avalanche that killed him. She would have been worthy of him. Not
even a fool could wonder where her daughter came by her beauty and charm.

 
          
 
Rattling Hooves ducked through the flap. He
caught the sleepless look in her eyes, noting the tight lines around her mouth.

 
          
 
“I would offer a gift to the daughter of One
Cast. I hear she is a new woman among us.”

 
          
 
Rattling Hooves smiled uneasily. "Shed be
honored, but she's not here. It's Wet Rain. . . . Well, maybe she ate too much
yesterday. In the middle of the night she woke up complaining about her
stomach. A fever and chills followed." Rattling Hooves ran a nervous hand
through her hair, expression pinching with worry. "I don't know. In the
dark of night, maybe I panicked. Anyhow, I sent Elk Charm off to White Calf's
for something to help her stomach."

 
          
 
"I have the Wolf Bundle." He crossed
his arms, considering. Elk Charm would be on the trail to White Calf's? She'd
be alone, anxious to try her womanhood out on the first man to come along.
"I had planned to go hunting today. Perhaps if I left the Wolf Bundle
here, it might help. You must care for it while I'm gone, however."

 
          
 
A gleam grew in Rattling Hooves' eyes, her
lips parting slightly.

 
          
 
Blood Bear managed to keep his features under
control. Idiot woman; she, too, insisted on believing the old bag contained
Power. Who knew, maybe that would work to his advantage in the future. And if
Elk Charm delighted him as much as he hoped she would, maybe that lure of power
would lead Rattling Hooves to favor a marriage?

 
          
 
"We'd appreciate that. We'll take very
good care of it and honor it the whole time it's within our lodge."

 
          
 
He smiled, mind already on the trail to White
Calf's. "Good, I'll fetch it."

 
          
 
He turned on his heel, walking rapidly for his
lodge.

 
          
 
Snaps Horn waited quietly in the trees. Like
the hunter he was becoming, his outline could barely be distinguished. Tanager
moved carefully, testing her skill against his. She slithered through the
branches that hung down. Each foot she placed just so, settling her weight
around the dry twigs, balancing to keep from crackling the brown needles
underfoot.

 
          
 
Snaps Horn shifted, moving slowly to crane his
neck and look down the trail. He started and froze.

 
          
 
Tanager hardly breathed. She could hear
footsteps on the trail. Warily, she noted how Snaps Horn tensed, sinking down
to obscure his form in the grass that veiled the fir. Who did her friend hide
from?

 
          
 
She caught a flicker of movement, and remained
motionless as Blood Bear trotted past. From Snaps Horn's tensed posture, she
read his dislike. The silence stretched before Snaps Horn finally straightened.

 
          
 
Tanager resumed her stalking, moving to within
easy reach before she shot hard fingers into Snaps Horn's ribs.

 
          
 
"Got
ya
!"
And she raced away, while Snaps Horn cried in horror and whirled.

 
          
 
Bursting through the trees, she waited to see
if he'd chase.

 
          
 
He exploded from the thrashing fir branches
and slid to a stop, face a masterwork of convulsed anger.

 
          
 
"Don't! Don't ever do that again!"
He stamped, gesturing, shaking with rage. But he wasn't going to chase. She
could see that.

 
          
 
She cocked her head. "So, who you going
to ambush?"

 
          
 
"None of your business, girl!"