"A-he, I claim her!" They all laughed as they disappeared to enjoy their stolen feast, somewhere on a sunny ledge by the water, or high on a ridge overlooking the countryside. They left Naduah and Star Name and the women to clear up the wreckage.
"I didn't think it was possible," Star Name shook her head, "but your brother is worse than mine."
"You're right. Old Owl indulges him too much. He should never have been given a pony so young."
"It wouldn't have mattered." Star Name stooped, picking up the litter of thongs and awls. "He would just have stolen one. Most of those boys borrowed their ponies."
"Neither his father nor his grandfather punishes him for anything. He can do whatever he likes." Naduah felt aggrieved, but she had never been punished either. In fact, she couldn't remember seeing anyone punished. Adults told erring children that the People didn't behave that way. And that sufficed.
As Takes Down rearranged the huge mosaic of hides they were piecing into a lodge cover, she interrupted.
"They're learning to be warriors. What they do today will be good practice for what they must do on raids."
"I pity the Osage," said Owl.
"Or the Cheyenne," added Something Good.
"Or anyone else who gets in the way," Deer grumbled.
"They'll be fine warriors as long as they don't have to depend on stealth," said She Laughs.
"He's a nuisance, that's what he is." Naduah was jealous. Just because he was cute and brash and brave to the brink of insanity, he charmed everyone. Sometimes Naduah hated being a girl.
Takes Down went quietly back to her work, directing the women who were making a lodge cover for Deep Water, Owl's brother. She knew why Cub was so audacious, but she said nothing. Captive children almost always tried harder to prove themselves. She would rather be captured by one of another tribe than by a white who had adopted the red man's ways. Such men were more ferocious, much more inclined to torture their prisoners. Cub would be a terror, although not as bad as Cruelest One. Under his swagger and bluster, Cub was an affectionate child.
As Naduah shaved and sharpened skewers from the pile of sticks next to her, she watched the women work on the huge patchwork of hides. Takes Down was trimming it into a semicircle, cutting along the line she had made by pressing a pointed willow stick into the leather. The lodge was a large investment for Owl's family. It had taken them a long time to accumulate the ten hides for this small one. The hides Deep Water had been given by Wanderer as his share of the raid on the Tonkawa village, plus those from the fall hunt and the ones his grandfather had taken in payment for his arrow-making, had finally amounted to enough.
"Why does Deep Water get his own lodge? He's only fifteen, even if he did bring in a scalp." Naduah's sense of equity was injured.
She Laughs looked up from the hides she was sewing. Her legs were stretched out in front of her and the cover drawn up over them. Her voice was strangely musical, coming from her rough face.
"I wish we could have made him one sooner. Deep Water has to have his own lodge so he won't have to sleep near Owl."
"Why shouldn't he sleep near Owl?" Naduah and her whys.
"It's taboo for him to sit near me. Or for me to touch him. He could kill me if I did."
"Why?"
Takes Down spoke again. "Deep Water is a warrior. He has to have a place to make the medicine he needs to protect his family. He can't be close to his sister. He might adopt some of her womanish ways and fail in battle or on the hunt."
"Besides," added Medicine Woman, "cooking grease is contaminating, and so is menstrual blood. He has to sleep where there is none."
"Are you bleeding already, Owl?" It was something all the girls looked for. Their rite of passage to adulthood. "No. But I might someday soon."
Naduah finished the last skewer she was whittling. The pointed sticks would be woven through lines of holes punched into the front of the lodge to hold it together. She Blushes was measuring and punching the holes for them. Medicine Woman, She Laughs, Black Bird, Deer, and Something Good sat back on their heels while Takes Down checked their work and did some last-minute trimming. The whole cover should fit together perfectly when it was raised. Takes Down didn't want to have to lower it to make adjustments.
The huge semicircle was twelve feet at its widest and twenty-four feet across its straight edge, with two flaps at the center of that edge to close the smoke hole. There were two smaller half-circles cut from the lower part of the same edge. When the edge was brought together the half-circles would meet to form the door opening.
It was a small lodge cover, but there were still many seams to pull to test for weak places. The lodge would have to withstand the stress of howling gales and hard travel, sun and rain and snow and hail that stripped trees and knocked down flocks of birds. Also, it was a point of honor with Takes Down never to have to take down a lodge to refit it. That was why everyone came to her when they needed a new one.
"Toquet, all right," she grunted. "On your feet." The women got up, rubbing their knees and groaning about the pain of it all, and about how hard Takes Down The Lodge made them work. Takes Down ignored them and bustled around putting everyone in position for the lodge raising. It never occurred to them to ask a man for help. No one needed their interference.
The four main cedar poles, fifteen feet long, lay nearby. They had been freshly peeled and they smelled wonderful. Their large ends had been sharpened to stick into the ground. She Laughs tied them near the top, and four of the women set them upright. They pulled the butt ends out until they seemed evenly spaced then planted them firmly. Takes Down paced across inside, starting at the east and walking from one pole to the other, measuring the distance with her feet. She made Deer pull her pole out a little, then had the women stack the other eighteen poles around the four main ones.
Something Good, the tallest and slenderest one there, stood on Deer's soft, meaty shoulders, her feet sinking into the flesh as she lashed the poles in place. Deer supported Something Good's slender ankles with her hands, and kept up a steady stream of harassment.
"Something Good, just because you're a chief's wife doesn't mean you never have to wash you feet. Whew! When did those moccasins die? Did you forget to tan them before you sewed them? Are you carrying a dead skunk inside them as medicine? If so, it's powerful." Something Good laughed and almost fell, clinging to the poles for support.
"Be careful, Deer." Naduah circled Deer, craning her head upward and ready to break her friend's fall if she slipped.
"Child, we've been doing this since long before you were born." Deer beamed down at her, her eyes disappearing into the folds of her smile like currants into whole-wheat dough. "You're putting on meat, Something Good," she called up, squeezing the girl's calves. "Soon there'll be enough of you to make a whole woman. And you'll be able to wear Blocks The Sun's dresses."
"She could wear them now. She and three or four others together," put in She Laughs. "Did you hear that Pahayuca is saving all his old lodge covers now. He says if Takes Down will let them out a little they'll be fine for Blocks The Sun to wear."
And so it went. And no one seemed to mind. In fact, Naduah was grateful to Deer. There was often a strain when Something Good was around. The girl's nose was perfect. Pahayuca hadn't slit it, although whether it was from his love of her, his friendship with her father, or his own good nature, no one could say. And there was a great deal of speculation on the subject.
Something Good still carried her head high, but she didn't talk freely to many. Nor was she included as often in the things the women did. Takes Down and Black Bird had asked for her help, and Deer had accepted her, which made it difficult for the others in the special circle of friends not to. She had joined them at first because she was fond of Naduah and Star Name, but now she felt comfortable with all of them. Takes Down understood her pain and would have gone out of her way to befriend her anyway, but Wanderer had also spoken to her of it, as a favor to him and to his dead blood brother.
/> The women picked up the edges of the cover and carried it around the frame. Takes Down and She Laughs went inside with two long poles. Reaching out with them, they snagged the center of the cover between the two smoke-hole flaps and dragged it, flesh side out, up the outside of the frame. They held its eighty-five pounds, their arms straining, while the others climbed on each other's shoulders, and fastened it at the top. Then they pinned it in place along the front seam, down to the door opening, and pegged its hem down. They all stood back to admire it while Takes Down walked slowly around it. None of the seams puckered or buckled or was pulling apart with the strain. Other women gathered until there was a crowd, clucking and cooing and running their hands along the seams to check the workmanship.
Raising a lodge was routine, but there was a knack to fitting one perfectly, especially this one, since it was smaller than those Takes Down usually made. She had had no old cover to use as a pattern, and had drawn this one freehand on the ground. Then she had to fit the assortment of hides to the correct shape. She had approached the problem as she did most things. She thought about it quietly as she went about her chores. Then, the day the cover was to be pieced, she was up early and had the hides laid out by the time the other women arrived. She worked swiftly and efficiently from some plan in her head, and as usual, it was work well done.
"All it needs now is a dew cloth to hang around the sides," said Medicine Woman.
"And a woman to sneak under the wall's edge at night." Deer laughed, making obscene motions with her hands.
"We're working on the dew cloth now," said She Laughs. "He'll have to take care of the other himself." Owl grimaced. She spent all winter scraping hides so her brother could have his own lodge to get away from women so he could smuggle one in anyway.
"He's too ugly for any woman," grumbled Owl.
"No, he's not," Star Name jumped to defend him.
"Were you planning to sneak into his lodge, bright eyes?" It was good to see Something Good laughing and teasing again, even if it was rare.
"Did you hear that Old Owl's band is moving soon?"
"All of us will be moving soon. I pity those who live on the outskirts of camp. The dung is getting deep there. You have to watch where you walk."
"There was plenty to eat this winter. It all had to go somewhere."
"But not outside my lodge."
"Speaking of eating, what's for dinner, She Laughs?" Deer always came to the point. She Laughs was expected to feed the workers and give Takes Down a present.
"There's antelope."
"Good. I like antelope." Deer chuckled and began sidling toward She Laughs' lodge nearby. "You like everything, Deer."
"That's true. But I especially like antelope. Young antelope." She eyed Smoke speculatively, dressing her out in her mind. Naduah ignored her teasing, and Something Good changed the subject.
"Pahayuca sent a bedding robe as a present to Deep Water. I left it near Weasel's cradle board. Naduah, would you bring it for me?"
Naduah trotted off and Smoke leaped ahead of her. They ran to where Something Good's baby, Kianceta, Weasel, was laced into her cradle board. The board stood braced against a grape bush and the robe, in a large folded square, lay next to it. On top of the robe, like a pretty, brightly colored bracelet, was a coral snake. It was slithering slowly toward the cradle board, as though to inspect what was there. Little Weasel watched, fascinated.
Naduah froze and looked frantically for a weapon. She kept absolutely still, afraid a cry would startle the snake. What if it crawled up the wrapping and bit Weasel's lip or nose? Coral snake bites were usually fatal, certainly to a two-month-old child. But while Naduah stood, Smoke acted, so swiftly that she could hardly be seen.
Rearing, she came down with her sharp hoofs on the snake's head. She reared and pounded again and again, throwing the snake off the robe and into the dirt, where she continued to attack it. It wasn't until Naduah saw the snake smashed and lifeless that she screamed. She ran to Weasel, kicking the snake's body as far as she could when she passed it. Dog assumed she was playing fetch and went after it. She arrived with it in her mouth just as the women were running up.
Something Good took Weasel and crooned to calm her, but she was the calmest one there. Naduah knelt in front of Smoke and hugged her, then rubbed her muzzle with her own nose. Smoke licked her cheek.
"I'm going to tell Cub about this. He says I shouldn't make friends with the food supply. Says it's hard to eat your friends. As if I'd ever eat you, Smoke."
Naduah and Cub had been having a footrace with Smoke and Dog. Since Smoke could run sixty miles an hour, it wasn't much of a contest. But she loved to run with them anyway, bounding around and around them. Now the two children hung by their legs from a low branch in a live oak tree, with Naduah flailing her arms to keep Smoke and Dog from licking her face. It was fun to view the world from upside down.
"Everyone's packing up in Grandfather's band. Why don't you come with us, Sister?"
Naduah thought a moment, then swung up and straddled the limb.
"I couldn't leave my family, and they wouldn't leave Pahayuca. And all my friends are with the Wasps. I wouldn't see you much anyway. You're always with that pack of prairie dogs, yapping and running around causing trouble. You act like you don't know me half the time."
"I have to or the boys will tease me. You know that."
"I know. But I'm better off where I am."
"What if someone comes for one us during the year? Soldiers, maybe." John had climbed into a crotch of the tree and was pitching twigs at leaves, trying to spear them.
"I'll hide." Naduah had given it some thought.
"But what if they find you?"
"Then I'll escape and come back. I can do it. I've been learning how to trail and ride and hunt. What about you?"
"I'll fight them. I'll kill them." Cub jumped up so that he was standing in the crotch and stabbing at the tough bark with his knife. "I'll scalp them. I'll eat their livers. Nobody's going to take me away from Grandfather."
"And what if Old Owl sells you back to them?"
"He wouldn't do that."
"You might make him mad enough at you one of these days."
"That's an act. He's never really mad at me. If the Rangers come, they'll have a fight. Suvate, that's all."
"How will we know?"
"What?"
"If one of us has been taken back?"
Cub sat down, one brown leg dangling from each side of the tree's fork. He was obviously thinking.
"We could leave signs to show that we're still with the People."
"What kind?"
"Some signal that we could work out. And leave it after we move from each campsite. You know we come across each other's camping places from time to time."
"What kind of sign should we leave? What kind of sign would be standing maybe months later?"
Cub looked a little exasperated with her. "I don't know. We could carve something in a tree."
"If there are any trees. Or if there aren't hundreds."
"Then we'll make a pact. If anything happens to me, I'll make Old Owl or my father swear to get word to you. I know they would. And if anything happens to you, you can ask Pahayuca or Sunrise to send word to me. Do you think they'd do it for you?"
"Of course. The People always seem to know what's happening in the other bands anyway."
From the direction of the distant camp came the incongruous sound of a turkey gobble.
"That's Grandfather calling me." Cub dropped from the tree and answered, a fair imitation. "I have to go. They must be ready to move."
The children untied their ponies and rode toward the site of Old Owl's winter camp.
"I'll miss you, Cub."
"I'll miss you too."
"As bad as you are, at least you're not dull."
"Wait'll you see me next winter. I'll be much worse."
"Promise?"
"Promise." He leered at her evilly. Then he braced his hands on his pony's ne
ck and, gathering his feet under him, stood for a better view. "They're starting without me!" He opened his legs and dropped back into place, spurring his horse into a gallop before he was even firmly seated. Ahead of them, the camp was in the usual turmoil as everyone beat their pack animals and yelled and dashed for the head of the line of march. Cub tucked his reins into his belt and jumped up to stand on his pony's back again. He shouted and waved his arms to get his friends' attention.
"Wait for me, you offal from an Apache dung heap!"
Upstream separated from the group and rode toward him.
"Where've you been? I wanted to say good-bye to you." The two of them rode back toward the gang of boys. Feeling left out, Naduah watched them go. Because he was a boy, Upstream would be able to ride along with the other boys until he tired and turned back. She stopped at the top of the first big ridge and waved at Cub when he turned to look once at her before setting off at a run, whooping. Below her, the long procession wound off through the pale green hills. She sat there for an hour or more until they were all out of sight beyond a far rise. Then she wheeled Wind and headed home to help with her own family's packing.
CHAPTER 24
Naduah had looked over her shoulder at the old campsite as she rode away, remembering the good times she had had there. But Takes Down was right, as usual. It was time to leave. The camp looked devastated and forlorn. The grass was trampled and cropped by the three thousand horses and mules of the four bands that had wintered there. The cottonwoods along the river had been stripped of their lower branches so the ponies could eat the bark.
There were piles of unrepairable equipment and heaps of bones and decaying carcasses from the latest hunt. Naduah thought she saw a slight movement at the outskirts of the site, a coyote come to see what was left. And the vultures overhead were beginning to circle, like the beginning vortex of a storm. She could picture the ants moving in to scour everything that the crows and mice left. And the grass would grow over it all, and it would be even greener here next year. Or the year after.