People of the Fire (70 page)

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Authors: W. Michael Gear

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal

BOOK: People of the Fire
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Flames. The image of the Dream stayed with
her. Spirit Power had come and she couldn't forget her appeal to the clouds at
sunset the night before.

 
          
 
She sat up, stiff muscles
twinging
,
and looked out at the predawn light graying the east. Yes, it would work. The
Dream had shown her the way. Hunger gnawed at the pit of her stomach. She ran a
fist across her rheumy eyes and stood, shaking out her hide before pulling it
over her shoulder and picking up her pouch.

 
          
 
For the moment, she sat on one of the rocks,
watching as the morning broke clear and cool. The dry air massaged her as the
breeze rose up the canyon. Hunters knew that breeze. Rising in morning, falling
back down the canyons with the night. She sniffed, enjoying the odor of the
firs and dry grass.

 
          
 
"Only someone driven by anger could do
what I must." She relived the images of the Dream, seeing the way. She
needed only to revive those terrible memories of Short Buffalo warriors
throwing themselves on her to rekindle the burning rage.

 
          
 
She watched as the sun rose to crest the
peaks, illuminating the meadows with golden light. Already
cookfires
burned dry wood, the faint smoke dissipating through the trees.

 
          
 
Confident that no enemy lurked near, Tanager
started down the steep slope, hesitating only long enough to strip a bit of fir
bark and a handful of needles. With a thumbnail, she pressed the inside of the
bark, learning what she needed to know. In one fist, she crumbled the needles.

 
          
 
Walking into camp, she greeted her warriors
with jokes and spirit. A feeling of freedom blew through her soul with the
biting freshness of a spring storm.

 
          
 
"
Ramshorn
? I
want you and Hanging Rock to do something for me. You'll have to move fast.
Each of you takes a different direction."

 
          
 
"How many people do we need?"
Ramshorn
trotted over to hunker down on his haunches.

 
          
 
"As few as possible. Last night, up on
the mountain, I had a Dream. I know a way for us to survive."

 
          
 
She grinned at the sparkle that lit his eyes.
"A Dream? A Power Dream?"

 
          
 
She nodded, feeling the certainty bursting
within. "A Power Dream. A message from the Spirit World."

           
 
Ramshorn
pulled at
his ear and nodded. "What do you need?"

 
          
 
With swift fingers, she cleared a spot in the
dirt and began lining out her strategy.

 
          
 
"Blood Bear!"

 
          
 
The call came from his right. He turned,
seeing Warm Wind rise from behind a deadfall, darts in hand, another
nocked
in his
atlatl
.

 
          
 
"Warm Wind? What are you doing hiding
like that?"

 
          
 
The young man walked carefully out of the
timber, grinning. "You've brought the Wolf Bundle. We're whole again! But
you ask what I do? I guard the trail. If you had been a party of enemies, I would
have killed the last man in line and run back through the trees. There's an elk
trail back there. Then I would have run to warn the camp. By the time the enemy
quit thrashing around in the timber looking for my shadow, we'd have an ambush
for them at the mouth of the canyon up there."

 
          
 
Blood Bear smiled humorlessly. "Then I
take it Tanager's camp lies ahead?" He stared around, noting the narrow
path through the trees. Afternoon light slanted down through the branches of
the densely packed firs.

 
          
 
Warm Wind nodded. "It's the best place.
From here, we can control the trails north. You go any farther east and you get
all snarled up in those vertical canyons where One Cast had that bighorn-sheep
trap. Too much farther west and you've got all those peaks to climb. This way,
we've got the enemy in a bottleneck. They've got to go through us to get
north."

 
          
 
"What about south?"

 
          
 
Warm Wind shrugged an insolent shoulder.
"Most of those camps have been raided and the people have fled to Rattling
Hooves and that bunch she lives with."

 
          
 
"Those Short Buffalo People, you
mean?"

 
          
 
"White Calf liked them. Two Smokes went
with them. Tanager's been sending everyone who can't tight there. But they're
living on the west side—on the other side of the peaks."

 
          
 
Blood Bear nodded. "Then I can't miss
Tanager’s camp?”

           
 
"No, go right straight ahead. When you
come out of the canyon, you'll see the big rocky knob. That's it. From there we
can see most everything. Tanager sent two men out this morning on some plan or
other. She won't tell us what, just that we'll know in four days. I do know
that she had a Spirit Dream last night up in the rocks. I've never seen her
this happy before."

 
          
 
"I see."

 
          
 
"And Never Sweat took another bunch out
to drive off a bunch of Short Buffalo warriors who had the nerve to try and
hunt buffalo where we could see them. They ought to be back soon. We saw only
six or seven. Never Sweat took ten men and women with him."

 
          
 
"Women?"

 
          
 
Warm Wind grinned. "Maybe you forget,
Tanager leads us. Women fight well. They can't run as fast as men, or maybe
cast darts as far, but they'd rather be dead than dragged off as Short Buffalo
captives. You'd be surprised what a woman can do with a club when she gets mad.
Try being a sheep in a trap—or a wounded enemy warrior.''

 
          
 
"Tanager leads you?" Blood Bear's
anger stirred.

 
          
 
Warm Wind squinted slightly, changing his
posture as the others behind Blood Bear shifted uneasily. "You'll have to
take that up with Tanager."

 
          
 
"You're not coming with us?"

 
          
 
"No. Not and leave this trail unguarded.
People die that way.''

 
          
 
Blood Bear stared at the man through narrowed
eyes, seeing no hesitation in the hard gaze that met his. Things had gotten
farther out of hand than he'd anticipated. Rather than scoff, he should have come
at the first rumor of Tanager's rise in status. But who would have thought that
skinny girl had it in her?

 
          
 
"Then guard the trail. I'll speak with
you later."

 
          
 
Warm Wind nodded, then added, "I wouldn't
push too hard, Blood Bear. You're the Keeper of the Bundle, but some of us
would urge you to think clearly and not let your emotions lead you to
trouble."

 
          
 
"Oh?" Blood Bear wheeled in the
trail, a deadly quiet settling around his heart.

 
          
 
Warm Wind saw and kept his neutral posture. 4t
You heard me. Keep in mind that Tanager has saved more than one of our
lives—the one most dear to me being my own. She's kept us together, and at
least shown us a way to stop the raiders for the moment. If you go to cause
trouble, you'll be splitting the Red Hand down the middle at a time we all need
to stand together.

 
          
 
"Tanager's said nothing against you. When
the subject of your leadership comes up, she steers us away from it, leading us
to other subjects with the admonition that we shouldn't quarrel among ourselves.
Keep that in mind as you deal with her and the people in the camp."

 
          
 
Blood Bear couldn't keep the sarcasm from his
voice. "Thank you for your care and concern for the people, Warm Wind.
I'll cherish and respect your advice." And he pushed on down the trail,
the mutters of those following burning in his ears.

 
          
 
Didn't they remember who rescued the Wolf
Bundle from the Short Buffalo camp in the first place? He was Blood Bear, the
greatest of their warriors, the man who'd driven the Short Buffalo People from
the mountains time and time again! He had been the one to reunite the Red Hand
through the Wolf Bundle. It had been his leadership that kept Three Rattles and
his Traders returning to the mountains with goods from the western ocean. Had
his leadership been so bad?

 
          
 
With an angry thumb, he batted at the Wolf
Bundle, a feeling of trouble growing within.

 
          
 
They found the camp as the sun sank below the
horizon, shadows stretching across the land. Blood Bear walked self consciously
across the open meadow. Grasses gone dry swished on his
moccasined
legs. He stopped, hands on hips, before the rising pile of rock. Even through
his anger, he could see that Tanager had chosen well. No doubt it the were
rushed, the defenders could hold off the worst of the attack while the rest
scattered through the
roeks
. A faint memory of
hunting in the area hinted of trails leading down the other side. A perfect
spot. Tanager couldn't be surrounded and cut off.

 
          
 
As he neared the camp, warriors—men and
women-appeared to rise out of the ground, calling greetings, smiles on their
faces.

           
 
The irritation grew. These didn't look like
desperate defenders. But where would they be when the cruel fist of winter
closed on the mountains and they had no caches of food?

 
          
 
He climbed the base of the rock to find a
sheltered camp, the fires screened from view. Cracked Rock lay to one side, a
poultice on a bad thigh wound.

 
          
 
Tanager stepped out on one of the boulders
above. "Blood Bear! We're happy to see you. Make yourself welcome and rest.
For the moment, only one foolish band of Short Buffalo has decided to try us
today. Never Sweat just chased them away and killed at least one in the
process. They're probably still running."

 
          
 
Blood Bear squinted up at her where she stood
in the cool shadow, realizing she had the position of authority up where her
words could carry. Everyone would know he'd been welcomed.

 
          
 
"Come down, Tanager. You and I must
talk."

 
          
 
"You've brought a way to kill more enemy?
We're happy to have you. More darts to drink enemy blood!" Like a flash
she disappeared, leaving him off balance again.

 
          
 
Brooding, he waited while others crowded
around, asking for news, hearing of relatives and who'd been wounded. When he
looked behind him, his little band had been absorbed, hearing stories of
battles fought and won. The animation in the eyes of Tanager's warriors seemed
infectious. He missed her arrival, preoccupied by the sound of cheers that
grated on his very soul.

 
          
 
Someone stirred up the fire, dropping rocks in
the blaze to heat stew. Someone else arrived with a
paunchful
of spring water, hanging it on a tripod. Glaring, he turned, seeing her
standing there, lithe and powerful, wearing a finely worked dress. She cocked
her head, a grin on her lips.

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