Song of the River (17 page)

She carried in six armloads of wood, then went out for another when Brown Water called out, “Enough!” and tilted her head toward the boiling bag so Yaa knew she was supposed to eat.

Yaa finished a bowl of meat, then settled down to weave a grass mat. Weaving was not her favorite thing. The dried grass always seemed to grow sticky under her fingers, and her eyes burned as she strained to see in the smoky lodge. But, she told herself, it was better than sewing.

Her favorite morning work was tending one of the boiling bags at the village hearths. She liked to hear the old women talk. They spoke with giggles of their husbands, so Yaa learned secrets about many hunters, men walking with chins held high, wearing parkas beaded with shells and adorned with feathers.

Old Blue-head Duck, honored for killing many caribou, liked to have his buttocks scratched before he went to sleep at night, and Dowitcher, whose nasty temper kept children away from him, was afraid of voles.

But this morning Yaa needed to stay in the lodge. If she was to care for Ghaden, she should be there when he came home.

Ghaden awoke to the sounds of Blue Flower laying out food. It smelled good. He was hungry. He rolled to his side and carefully pushed himself up.

The pain was there, catching at him like sharp-nailed fingers, but it was not as bad as it had been. He still hated to take long breaths. Each day the old woman Ligige’ came, made him stand and fill his chest with air until he could do nothing but cough. Sometimes, when he heard her coming, he would pretend to be asleep. At first, that had worked. The old woman had gone away, promising to return the next day, but now, if he pretended, she merely shook him until he decided the shaking was worse than the long breaths.

It helped him, Happy Mouth said, and told him he must obey Ligige’, and that he must eat, even if he was not hungry. Then he would get strong enough to return to their lodge. Then he could go home. Yes, he wanted to go home, more than anything, even more than having the pain go away.

“Ghaden, you are awake?” Blue Flower asked.

Ghaden smiled at her. She reminded him a little of his mother. “Hungry,” he said.

“Hungry! Good!” She filled a bowl and handed it to him.

Ghaden crossed his legs and set the bowl in his lap. He fished his fingers into the broth and pulled out a piece of meat.

“Today?” he asked Blue Flower.

She raised her eyebrows. “Yes, today,” she said.

His laughter rose like small round drops and popped from his mouth like the spit bubbles he and Yaa made with their lips. Today he could go back to Brown Water’s lodge. Today he would see his mother.

Wolf-and-Raven did not come until the sun was high in the sky. By that time the waiting had made Yaa’s skin feel as if it would crawl from her body. She jumped to her feet when she heard the scratch at the door, but Brown Water motioned for her to sit down. She sighed and drew the mat back onto her lap, wove another strand through the weft grass and used a notched bird bone to push it tightly into place.

Brown Water welcomed Wolf-and-Raven. To Yaa’s disappointment, he did not have Ghaden with him, but after a few words of politeness, he ducked his head into the entrance tunnel and called to his wife. She came in carrying Ghaden.

Ghaden’s face was a pale white circle swathed in furs. He seemed tinier than Yaa remembered him, though she had visited him often.

Brown Water gestured toward the boy’s sleeping place, and Blue Flower carried him there, settled him into the blankets.

“Yaa,” Brown Water said, and pointed with her chin toward the boy.

Yaa gratefully rolled up her mat and went to sit beside her brother. Blue Flower patted her on the head and left them, joining the adults at the hearth fire. Brown Water offered them food, and Happy Mouth filled bowls, then turned to Ghaden and asked if he was hungry.

He shook his head but struggled to sit up. Yaa scooted behind him to prop up his shoulders. “He says no,” she told her mother, then leaned forward to catch the words Ghaden was mumbling.

“My mother,” he said. “Where is my mother? Where is she?”

Yaa opened her mouth but did not know what to say. Had no one told him that Daes was dead? Had no one explained that she would not be here? Yaa looked at Wolf-and-Raven, at the important feathers he wore in his hair, at the amulets he had at his neck. His wife was dressed beautifully in a wolverine parka, the shoulders decorated with insets of white weasel fur. The woman was telling a joke. Brown Water laughed and so did Yaa’s mother.

Yaa wanted to yell at them, to interrupt rudely and ask what they had told Ghaden. Perhaps they had said nothing. Perhaps they expected Yaa to tell him Daes was dead.

“I want my mother,” Ghaden said again, and Yaa saw the shine of tears in his eyes.

She leaned forward, pressed her lips close to Ghaden’s ear. “Your mother was hurt, like you were hurt, Little Brother,” she said softly. “But she was hurt too badly to get well. She had to go live with the spirits. She is there now.”

Ghaden turned his head to look at her. “When will she come back?” he asked.

“She cannot come back for a long time,” Yaa said, hoping her words were true, hoping that Daes would be content to leave them alone.

Ghaden’s eyes grew large and round. He slipped his thumb into his mouth and sucked, something Yaa had not seen him do since he was a baby.

“Do not worry,” Yaa said. “You will still live here with us.”

Ghaden pulled his thumb from his mouth. It made a wet, popping noise. He pressed his lips together into a tight line, and for that moment, his small boy’s face reminded Yaa of Daes. He looked over at the circle of people around the hearth fire. Several others had come to the lodge. Lazy Snow, who owned the lodge next to them, had brought a basket of dried blueberries. She had probably watched Wolf-and-Raven bring Ghaden home, Yaa guessed, and had sacrificed some of her prized berries to come over and see what was happening. Blue-head Duck, uncle to Brown Water, had also come, no doubt invited as an honored elder.

“Is Brown Water my mother now?” Ghaden asked in a small, quivering voice.

Brown Water sat straight and tall, her neck stretched out with her importance. What could be worse than having Brown Water as mother? Yaa thought.

“No,” she said to Ghaden. “Brown Water is not your mother. I will be your mother.”

Ghaden sighed, then relaxed against Yaa. He put his thumb back into his mouth, and Yaa leaned forward to rest her cheek on his head. Ghaden reached up and curled his fingers into her hair, then closed his eyes, his mouth working soundlessly around his thumb.

Chapter Ten

THE COUSIN RIVER VILLAGE

CHAKLIUX STUDIED THE MAN
sitting before him. Cloud Finder was large, but his body was soft and fat like that of an old woman who has many sons to feed her. His eyes, though, were bright and shrewd.

Cloud Finder was considered an elder, an honor bestowed more for his wisdom than his age. He was a good hunter, an honest man.

When traders came for dogs, they visited Cloud Finder first. His animals seldom fought, nor did they cringe or whine when men approached. Their muscles were firm and well-defined under their glossy fur. If Chakliux could bring dogs like those back to the Near River Village, then perhaps the elders would believe he worked to help their people.

“So during the days you have been with us, you have come to understand that the young men of our village grow weary of sitting,” Cloud Finder said. “They think the best way to prove their worth is through war. You say that this is happening also among the Near River People? I am surprised. Their young men are bear hunters. You think they would find enough honor in hunting. If our men knew the trick of finding winter dens, they would be more content.” He shrugged. “Spring is a bad time. Our young men—even my own four sons—have had enough of winter, enough of women’s voices and children’s songs. They grow hungry for fresh meat and honor.”

“That is true,” Chakliux said, “but perhaps the Near River men will no longer want to fight when I bring them good dogs.”

“There is something more important here than dogs,” said Cloud Finder. “Do the Near River elders want to fight or do they seek peace?”

“Like most of the elders in this village, they want peace,” Chakliux said. “What good comes to an old man from fighting? Does a father want to lose his sons? You know He Talks sent me to the Near River Village to marry and in that way strengthen the bond between our peoples, but the woman did not want me. She was afraid our children would have feet like mine.”

“What is so terrible about that?” Cloud Finder asked. “She did not want a man with the power of animal-gift?”

Chakliux lifted his hands. “Who can understand what a woman wants?” he said. “Dogs are dying in their village. Strong, healthy dogs. Some of the young men, trying to build anger against our people, have said I brought a curse to them. Perhaps the shaman’s daughter also thinks I carry a curse. Their elders hope that if I bring back golden-eyed dogs, the people will understand I have not been sent to curse but to help.”

Cloud Finder leaned forward, looked hard into Chakliux’s eyes. “There is something more,” he said.

Chakliux sat for a long time considering what to tell the man. Finally he said, “Less than a moon before I left to return here, two of the Near River People were killed. One was an elder, a respected hunter, the other a woman. Also, a young child was wounded. The elder was killed in his lodge, as he slept. The woman was outside, returning to her sister-wife’s lodge. The child was her son. The killings were done with a knife.”

“You think some of our young men did that?”

“I do not know. The Near River shaman says spirits killed them.”

Cloud Finder blew out his breath in disgust. “What spirit uses a knife?” he asked.

“There was a trader in the village,” Chakliux said. “Some think he did it.”

“What do you think?”

“Why would he kill a village elder? The boy was the trader’s son. Why would he try to kill his own son? The knife was still in the child’s back when he was found. It was one of the knives the trader had brought to the village. Why would he leave his knife?”

“Is he stupid, this man?”

“Not in his trading.”

“So you think perhaps one of our young men …”

“I am not sure. If a hunter from this village wanted to give the Near Rivers a reason for fighting, why kill a woman or child, why an old man?”

“Who needs protection more?” Cloud Finder asked. “When young men fight it is for their own honor and to protect those who cannot fight—the elders, the children, the women.”

“That is true, but why leave a trader’s knife? Why not let it be known that a Cousin River hunter did the killing?”

Cloud Finder nodded.

“Do you know of any hunters who were gone from this village for the time it would take to do such a thing?” Chakliux asked. “Probably six, eight days at least.”

Cloud Finder frowned, looked up at the top of the lodge, pursed his lips. “My sons, Night Man and his brother Tikaani, were gone two days hunting,” he said slowly. “They brought back a lynx, some hares, a fox.” He was silent for a time. “There are no others that I know of. You have been staying in the hunters’ lodge, have you not?”

“Yes.”

“Young men often boast. You have heard nothing?”

“I have lain rolled in my robes, pretending to be asleep but listening long into the night. I have heard nothing.”

“Then if something was done by one of our people, for some reason it was done in secret. There
is
one who might do such a thing, though not by herself. She would send another.”

He raised his eyebrows at Chakliux, and Chakliux felt his belly twist. K’os. Who else but K’os, and if it was her, why tell the Near River People? It would give the young men reason to fight. Better only to wait and watch, ready for whatever she decided to do next.

“I understand,” Chakliux said quietly.

“And you know that it is best to wait?”

“Yes.”

Cloud Finder drew a long breath. “We must watch and listen, you and I,” he said. “We will stop her.” He stood and filled his bowl again to the top, lifted his chin toward Chakliux’s bowl.

Chakliux shook his head.

Cloud Finder sat down. Through a mouthful of food he said, “Meanwhile, you need dogs. Why come to me?”

“You have the best dogs.”

Cloud Finder laughed. “It is good to be known for something besides being fat,” he said, though everyone knew he was proud of his size.

A man who was fat, even in spring, was a man who had chosen his wife wisely and who was skilled as a hunter. Either that or he was greedy, and no one who visited Cloud Finder’s lodge had ever accused him of greed. Chakliux looked down at the large wooden bowl in his lap. He had been eating since he came, and the bowl was still half full.

“You offer a trade then?” Cloud Finder asked.

“I have goods of my own, and also things from the Near River People, furs and parkas, hare fur blankets, a sael of goose grease, fish-skin baskets, fishnets, hooks, spearheads. I have a fire bow made by one of the elders. Many things.”

“And for all this you want a dog?”

“A bitch that has recently whelped.”

“And her pups?”

“Yes. You have more than one bitch. Several have just had litters.”

“It is not easy for me to give up one of my dogs. They are like my children. I need to know they will be well cared for.”

“You have known me since I was a boy, Cloud Finder. You know I will care for her.”

Cloud Finder inclined his head. “I would not consider this if you were just a man seeking a good dog, but I do not want to see our people fight. We are cousins with those Near Rivers. We share the same grandfathers. What if some other enemy comes among us? Such a thing has happened before. It may happen again. There are strangers who live two, three handfuls of days from here. They use weapons we do not know how to make, and they do not respect sacred things. Their language is something no one understands. What if they attack our villages? What if they come to steal our daughters and wives? What would we do if we could not band together with the Near River People?” He sighed, then said, “Show me what you have brought. Perhaps I will trade.”