Wabi (13 page)

I put my moccasin back on and walked over to the tree. I gave it a push with my hand. It was rooted solidly into the stone and thin earth of the mountainside. It would be a good test for me. I stepped back, took a deep breath, lifted my knee up high, and then thrust my foot out to hit the trunk of that cedar as hard as I could.

THWACK!

Splinters flew as the tree broke off near its base, toppled, and rolled down the slope.

“Whoo-hoo-hooo,” I shouted in triumph. My foot tingled a bit, but was not hurt at all.

Kicking,
I thought.
Good weapon for me!

Malsumsis came leaping back up the hill. He had run down after the big dead cedar as it rolled, and he was now carrying one of its broken branches in his mouth. He dropped it at my feet.

I picked it up and threw it, and Malsumsis went springing after it, caught it on the first bounce, and came back to my feet again. This time, though, instead of dropping the branch, he nudged me with it. I took it more carefully from his teeth, held it up, and hefted it. It felt good in my hand. It was smooth and the length of my arm. It had broken off cleanly and one end was heavier and more rounded. I had seen the men of Valley Village carrying such branches. What was it they called them?

Baskodebahiganak. Head Breakers. That was it. Fighting clubs.

I grasped my fighting club by the narrow end and swung it back and forth a few times. It made a whistling sound as it cut through the air. Very good, indeed. Head Breaker. Another weapon. But as I swung it I realized I was forgetting something.

I walked over to what was left of the broken old cedar, put down my new club, and placed my hands on the base of the trunk.

“You have given me a gift,” I said to the tree. “I thank you for Head Breaker. I will carry it with me and use it well.”

THE MOUNTAIN SLOPE BELOW US was strewn with stones of all sizes. I studied that slope, trying to pick out the best path for us to get through the jumble of rocks to the valley below.

I shook my head. It would not be easy. More than one trail led down from the mountaintop and it seemed as if some of those trails were dead ends. While in some spots there were narrow spaces between them that I thought we could squeeze through, in others big boulders had rolled together, blocking the way. Not only that, in the open places the small broken stones looked as if they would slip and slide underfoot. That would make it hard for us to move down quickly across them.

I lifted my hand to shade my eyes. You must stay alert if you wish to stay alive. Had I seen something in the air at the far end of the valley? I had. Something was moving across the low sky. It was like a cloud that kept changing shape and getting larger.

Hah-hoo. It was not a cloud at all. It was a flock of birds, coming straight this way. That was not good. They were flying swiftly. They would reach this spot where we stood, fully exposed, long before we could make our way down to the forest at the foot of the slope. That was worse. But worst of all was that I could now make out what kind of birds were in that flock. Crows. Big crows.

Malsumsis growled. The hair rose up on the back of his neck and he took half a step backward.

“Yes,” I said. “I agree. They are not coming to greet us as friends.”

Crows. Any owl will tell you that being caught by a mob of crows during the daytime is a terrible thing. They made me so uneasy that my first thought was to spread my wings and soar back down into my home valley where I knew the safe roosting places. I lifted my arms to open my wings. Oops.

Arms,
I thought.
Flying is not an option
.

I looked at my arms and hands.
Useless for flying.
Then I smiled.
But very useful for certain other things.

First, though, I would need a place that was not out in the open like this.

I spotted a possibility, and went quickly down the slope with Malsumsis by my side. The cloud of crows was getting closer. I could now hear what they were calling back and forth to one another in self-satisfied tones.

The place I'd seen turned out to be even better than I had hoped. Three big flat rocks had slid together in such a way that they made a shape like one of the rough, bark shelters I had seen human beings make. Agwanbitigan, they called it. A lean-to. But this one was made of stone. There was plenty of room inside for me to stand up and for Malsumsis to crouch down by my side.

One of the worst things about being mobbed by crows is the way they circle and dive around you like an evil, black-feathered whirlwind. No way could they circle us here. There was stone over our heads and stone at our backs. They could still see us as they approached. The open side of our lean-to faced out over the valley. But I was glad of that. I was ready and waiting for them.

The flock was so close now that the harsh cries hurt my ears. These were the biggest crows I'd ever seen. Their wings were as wide as those of turkey buzzards. Their glistening black beaks were long and sharp.

There were perhaps fifty of them. They were so large that I thought they must be the monster birds that served as spies for evil beings in Great-grandmother's stories. But seeing just how large they were made me feel happy.

“Bigger crows,” I said to Malsumsis, whose growl was now a deep continuous rumbling in his throat, “make better targets.”

Did I forget to mention another of the fine features of our shelter? Close by it were countless stones. Some were round as fists, some were flat and sharp edged, but many of them were the perfect size. I ran about, gathering a pile of them.

The crows were close enough now for me to see the hungry glint in their dark eyes. They were so close that they were starting to fold their wings to dive in at us. Close enough to throw my first stone.

Alas, my aim was not good. I completely missed the crow I'd been aiming at. However, the fact that my stone struck the crow next to it was some consolation.

Whomp! Gwark! And with a burst of feathers, that crow dropped out of the air.

My next stone hit the bird I aimed for. So did my third stone. My fourth stone, larger, rounder, and more sharp edged, was hurled in a side-arm motion. It took out not one crow but three as it spun through the rapidly diminishing flock.

They squawked at me in protest as they flew back and forth, getting ready to swirl in for another attack.

Not in this lifetime,
I thought, gathering up another armful of stones. It worked well that way, using one arm and hand to hold the stones cradled against my chest and doing all of my throwing with the other arm.

As I straightened up, one crow that was braver or more foolish than the others came swooping straight at my face. I did not have time to throw the stone I was holding. I turned my head to protect my eyes. But the crow did not reach me.

UURRUFF! CHOMP.

Malsumsis, my protector, dropped back down onto all fours. The body of the huge crow he had just snatched out of the air hung from his jaws. He shook it one more time and dropped it.

“Good, my friend,” I said.

I would have patted him on the head, but I was too busy throwing stones again to do so. Those giant crows were determined. By the time their attack was done, the slope in front of our lean-to was covered with black-winged bodies. There were cuts on both of my arms and a slash across my cheek. Malsumsis was bleeding from more than one place on his body. But neither of us was badly hurt.

In the sky above the valley were the shapes of four surviving crows, growing smaller as they winged their way back to wherever they came from. Perhaps they could not hear me, but I still shouted out my message just the same.

“Wabi is here! Tell that to the one who sent you!”

WHEN YOU ARE HEADED INTO danger, you do not always think about the danger that is headed away from you. That is probably why Malsumsis and I did not notice, as we made our way down into the wide valley that something else was happening at the very same time. A creature that had been watching from behind us turned and made its way downslope. But not toward us. The slope it followed led down into the valley we had left behind.

We left the crows where they lay. I thought about eating one or two of them, but decided that I was not that hungry. Crow meat is tough and unpleasant. Malsumsis clearly felt the same. When we reached the place where small plants began to grow up out of the first soil below the rocky mountainside, he bit the end of a small branch from a pine tree and walked along chewing it for a while. He wanted to get the taste of those foul birds out of his mouth.

As I picked my way down the steep slope with my bow and quiver slung over my shoulder, I held Head Breaker in my other hand. It felt unusually heavy. In the heat of our battle with those huge crows I had forgotten about my club.

Is it possible for a piece of wood to feel resentful?
I wondered.

I stopped and held Head Breaker up in front of my face.

“My friend,” I said, “I am sorry that you were not included in our last battle. Rest assured that you will not be neglected next time.”

I looked down into the valley below us, feeling that invisible but baleful presence again.

“I think you will not have to wait for long,” I added. Then I swung Head Breaker in a wide circle. It no longer felt so heavy in my hand. If anything, it felt as if it were pulling me along down the trail that now opened before us.

Before long, we were in the forest. But it was like no forest I had been in before. True, there were trees and small plants, flowers and berries, just as in the forests of our home valley. The little flying and crawling creatures were here as well. A grasshopper chirruped as it flew up from the grass, bees hummed in the blossoms.

But there were no larger creatures. No birds, no animals. I saw none, nor did I smell any. My human nose was weaker than that of my wolf companion's, but I could tell from the look on his face that he too found that lack of familiar scents confusing. It was as if the ground, or something worse, had swallowed up all the birds and animals.

It worried me in two ways. My smaller worry was about food. I'd thought that the two of us could hunt and eat before going farther. But with no animals here, what would we hunt? My larger worry was about what had happened to the creatures that should have been here. Would whatever happened to them now happen to us?

I was thirsty too. In fact, I felt a stronger thirst than I had ever felt before. Luckily, there was a lovely pool of water before us. From the sand at its bottom and the bubbles that rose up in it, it seemed to be water from a spring. Such water always tastes better. The water was so clear that I could see there were many round white pebbles at the bottom, resting on the golden sand.

How good it will feel,
I thought as I quickened my pace, to kneel by that spring.
Go closer, go closer! First, though, I must throw aside my weapons. Go closer, go closer! And then I must blindly thrust my arms and head into that cool, sweet water. Closer, closer! I must do that, I must
...

I must not! I forced my feet to stop walking while I was still a stone's throw away from the water. I quickly reached out my hand and grabbed hold of the scruff of Malsumsis's neck to stop him from walking on just as foolishly as I had been doing. My wolf friend looked back at me, confused. Then he growled and sat back on his haunches. He shook his head and wiped his face with his paws. I knew how he felt. It was as if he'd just blundered into a spiderweb that had obscured his vision for a moment.

Go closer, go closer?
Why was I thinking that? And what was that about throwing my weapons aside? Ha! Thrust my head and arms into the water? Not likely!

Whose voice had been speaking in my head, trying to convince me to behave like a brainless little owlet? I took another step toward that inviting pool of water.

There it was again, a hungry whisper. I was fully aware of it now. It was like the subtle touch of a blood-drinking fly on your body just before it begins to drink. But this hunger, subtle as it was, was much bigger than that of a deer fly or a mosquito. It wanted more than just a sip of blood.

I stepped just a little closer. Now I could better see the pool of spring water before me. The water was much deeper than I had thought at first. I could tell that by how long it took for the bubbles to emerge from the sandy bottom and reach the surface. Those glistening white pebbles at the bottom were larger than they seemed. Then I saw what they were. They were not pebbles at all, but skulls. Skulls picked clean of all flesh. Skulls of animals and human beings.

I studied the ground around that pool. There were old tracks there, tracks of many kinds of creatures. Every set of tracks led to the pool. None led away.

I looked over at Malsumsis. The small rumble of a growl was coming from the back of his throat.

I made a small hand gesture to him. Since we had been traveling together, he and I had been learning how I could use these new human hands in more subtle ways than the wings I once had. I could make all kinds of gestures with them, signals for my wolf friend to do certain things. A hand lifted up to my mouth meant
Be quiet
. The two long fingers of my hand held together and thrust forward meant
Go that way
. All the fingers of my hand spread wide and my arm flung forward as if throwing a stone—
Attack!