Read People of the Fire Online
Authors: W. Michael Gear
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal
Fire At Night trotted down the trail, careful
of turning an ankle on a rock. Curious how that worked—going up was so hard,
but going down proved ever so much more dangerous
Behind him, Throws Stones slid on unstable
footing.
"Hey, watch that. You fall and break a
leg and you'll miss the Blessing. I sure won't carry you."
"Uh-huh, and I'll tell Heavy Beaver you
left on your own and I was chasing you."
"We've been through that."
Throws Stones grunted. "I know. He can't
do much to his two best warriors. Beats hanging around up there, waiting for an
Anit'ah
dart. I don't know, I've been spooked ever
since Straight Wood told us that witch tale."
"So, we stick with the story that we came
down to check and see if the meat made it safe. I don't trust those boys who
carried it down."
"You think Heavy Beaver will swallow that
"If your courage was going to fail, it
should have done it up there." Fire At Night jerked a thumb back over his
shoulder at the bulk of the mountain. "This was your idea."
Throws Stones gave a laugh he didn't feel.
"So, how long have we been up here chasing through the trees, huh? Two
moons, maybe three? And what's happened? We raided a couple of camps, killed a
couple of people, and took -women. Then the
Anit'ah
disappeared. I think Let! I right. They ran over on the west side of the mount
"I sleep better at night knowing we
chased them m and wonder why we Sing over more of our friends every day."
"We keep learning the trails."
"But we can't hold them. I don't know.
This isn't like the plains. You can't get them to stand up, fight one-on-one.
They don't have a warrior's honor. They're like coyotes sneaking around
everywhere. You never know when on get brave and sneak in to nip your
butt."
"They can't last this winter. When have
we given them time to cache their stupid seeds? They don't even have time to
hunt. All we have to do is keep the pressure on them, then let them starve this
winter.”
"Then where are the old men and women?
Gathering food, I'll bet." Fire At Night slowed to a stop, muscular chest
heaving. "I don't know, I tell you. I think that old stories about mad
dogs and larkspur-eating fools being the only ones to fight
Anit'ah
is right."
"Their cousins, the White Crane, weren't
so much."
"Their cousins didn't have that Wolf
Bundle. And they didn't have that she-bitch of a warrior either! You can say
what you want about them in a stand-up fight, but that last time I cast three
darts at her, and I'd swear they bent out of the way each time."
"Heavy Beaver will kill her with his
Power one of these days."
"Like Two Blue Moons thought he would? I
almost didn't get away last time I fought her. Fortunately, I was near the
trail. The rest got chased into the trees and you know what happens then."
Throws Stones lifted his lip. "Maybe she
gets her strength from men, huh? Milks their semen before a fight? You know
what Heavy Beaver says about women, how they rob a man's strength, drain
him."
Fire At Night chuckled. "I could be
drained like that more often. That's one of the reasons I decided to come.
Three moons without my wives is too long."
"You know, the more I think about this,
the less I like the excuse about the meat."
"So?"
"So we tell him we need to talk about
strategy, about how to beat this woman. What's a tanager anyway?"
"That red, yellow, and black bird that
lives up in the tops of the trees." Throws Stones thought about it and
grinned. "Yes, I like that. A war strategy. Heavy Beaver will go for that.
If we stroke that fat ego he keeps in that fat body, he'll do a special Sing
for us, Bless us so we can kill that woman. After that, the
Anit'ah
will fall apart like a cattail tuft in the late fall."
"Then we'd better quit standing here like
perching ravens and get down there."
"A change of heart?"
"No, just a better story for Heavy
Beaver. After all these years, I still don't underestimate him. I remember what
he did to Sage Root and the others. I don't mess with a man like that/'
“I think it's this way."
Fire Dancer looked down the steep trail.
"I don't know. What if it's a dead end? We'd have to climb back up
that."
Two Smokes puffed out his cheeks and exhaled.
"I don't know either. It's been a long
long
time. I was young then."
“How's your knee doing?"
Two Smokes smiled. “I don't think it's ever
felt this good since the buffalo stepped on it."
Fire Dancer rubbed the back of his neck.
"I didn't know. When you almost passed out, I thought . . . well. I'm
lost. I don't trust myself."
"Then trust an old
berdache
and let's take this trail.*'
“And if you're wrong?"
Two Smokes looked over the edge, seeing the
winding track disappearing into a thick stand of
lodgepole
.
To either side, sheer walls of the mountain dropped off in cliffs impossible
for them to descend. Before them, all of the basin lay exposed and sere under
the burning sun.
“This other trail doesn't look any better. And
if we try the main trail, you're going to be Dreaming on the end of a warrior's
dart."
Fire Dancer bit his lip, lost in thought.
“Can't you sense which path is right? Dream
something!” And the second Two Smokes said it, he wished he hadn't.
Fire Dancer's face twitched. “I—I don't I’m so
confused." He shook his head. "All I can feel is the power. You don't
just talk to it unless . . . well, you're Dreaming.”
Two Smokes rubbed his sweat Then let's go this
way. There are fewer rocks." He gestured toward the lodge-pole.
"Not only that, look.
Tanarer's
plan is working.” Fire Dancer pointed up.
Two Smokes shaded his eyes against the blaze
of the sun. A faint haze of smoke dulled the sky. “Then we’d better get off the
mountain. Dry as it is, it'll burn fast. My father told me about the first
coming of the drought. His father told him. It was like the whole world
burned.”
"Not like in my Dream, I pray. Not
that." Fire Dancer swallowed nervously and finally nodded. "All
right, down is down."
Two Smokes started over the edge, suddenly
uneasy. Power wouldn't protect him from a broken leg. And without him, who'd
hold the Wolf Bundle while Fire Dancer Dreamed and Danced with Fire? ... If
they lived that long.
“Hey!'' The cry came from above as if in
answer to his fears.
Two Smokes turned to see Tanager waving as she
jumped down the steep trail in a cascade of rock.
Wearily, Two Smokes hitched himself back up to
the restricted shoulder of the mountain they stood on.
Tanager came puffing down the slope. She
looked disheveled, legs trembling as she gasped for air. Apparently, she'd run
a long way.
"Not . . . that way," she panted,
pointing. "You'll be in a dead end. That trail ends in a sheer cliff. Only
the deer use that trail to go up and down to get the brush that's there for
winter feed. It would have cost you a half a day."
Fire Dancer closed his eyes and nodded, a
subtle panic hidden behind worried eyes.
"Why have you come?" Two Smokes
asked.
Tanager looked away, breasts heaving as she
sought to catch her breath. "Something White Calf said. I don't know the
why of it. Power. She said if I did this, maybe I could save the Red
Hand."
"Another Dreamer following a
Dreamer," Fire Dancer added softly. "And this other trail?"
"It's rough, but I don't think we'll find
Short Buffalo People on it." She rattled her darts. "And if we do,
you can Dream them to the
Starweb
."
"But why?" Two Smokes insisted.
"Why you?"
She looked out over the basin. "White
Calf said something about balance, and Spirals, and things I don't understand.
I've been given part of her Power. I think she wanted me to use it." She
swallowed. "And I swore I would. I promised the Spirits back where you had
your sweat and killed the wolf. I didn't know it was a sacred place until too
late. Maybe this way I won't offend Power."
Fire Dancer smiled absently, eyes gone out of
focus. "Then let us hope none of us offend. Time is short. Which way?”
She shook off a shiver and pointed with the
darts. 'This way."
Red
Chert
brought
Heavy Beaver a roasted piece of buffalo
backstrap
skewered on green willow. The meat had been wrapped in balsam leaves with
yarrow sprigs and sage inserted into the tender flesh. Then the whole had been
deep-pit roasted until it simmered in its own juices. Now the meat barely clung
to the skewer, cooked to perfection.
"Bring me a bowl, woman." He scowled
as rich juices ran down his arm, staining his best ceremonial clothing. He
flicked the droplets away, checking to make sure none had spotted his
white-buffalo hide.
Elk Whistle, Seven Suns, and Two Stones sat in
the pi of honor beside him, waiting their turn. The huge fire burning in the
center of the camp kept the herd of children scampering to collect more wood as
the women who'd been punished for this and that levered deadfall between tree
trunks to break it into sections.