The Storyteller Trilogy (90 page)

She remembered her father’s stories of wolves, how they worked together as a pack, sometimes making the herd run so calves would be left behind, an easy kill. She wondered if wolves were the ones who had taught men to hunt together, rather than each man going out alone, working by himself.

Chakliux would probably know if wolves had been their teachers. She felt her thoughts drift toward stories he had told, and then she remembered Aqamdax’s stories, First Men tales, so different from those of the River People.

Yaa’s eyelids were heavy, and her eyes stung. She blinked to wash away some of the burn. Then she was sitting with a group of her friends, Green Stripe and Best Fist, Blue Necklace—girls she had known in the Near River Village. Ghaden was with them, healthy and strong, and they were all in the branches of the tree.

Yaa began to giggle. Where had they come from? How had they found her here? Then she gasped and jerked herself awake. She had been dreaming!

She stuck her little finger into her mouth and bit until she tasted blood. The pain cleared her mind, and she looked out again through the tree branches toward the horizon. At first she saw nothing but tundra, then she caught movement again.

No, not wolf, she thought, and watched until she knew it was a man. She whistled to Cries-loud, waited and, receiving no response, whistled again. Finally she heard him call, “Caribou?”

She knew by the hoarseness of his voice that he had been asleep, but she was watcher, not Cries-loud, and perhaps he had different rules to follow.

She slapped her pack three times. No, not caribou.

“Wolf?” he called to her.

She had no signal for wolf, so again slapped her pack three times. Maybe he would realize she meant no.

“Wolf?” he asked again, and again she slapped three times.

“Moose?”

Three slaps.

“What then?”

Yaa could hear the aggravation in his voice.

“Chakliux?”

Three slaps.

He asked no more questions, though Yaa waited, then suddenly he was beside her, his head sticking up through the spruce branches.

“Are you sick? What’s the matter?”

She leaned close to him and whispered so any caribou nearby would not hear her voice. “A man, walking.”

“Where?” Cries-loud asked, and pulled himself up to sit beside her. He looked out toward the river, toward the Cousin People’s hunting camp, but Yaa shook her head and pointed east. Cries-loud watched the man for a long time, then said, “I don’t know him. He’s not from our village.”

Yaa looked again, noticed the quick way the hunter slapped his hands against his sides, how he tilted his head, lifted his chin. Suddenly she knew who it was.

She covered her mouth with her hands, and Cries-loud looked at her in surprise. “You know who it is?” he asked.

“A Near River boy,” she said, forgetting to whisper.

Cries-loud shook his head at her and laid fingers against his mouth. She crinkled her face into a frown.

“Near River?” Cries-loud said. “You’re sure? They don’t hunt here.”

“You know him,” Yaa whispered. “River Ice Dancer.” She leaned closer to whisper. “Remember? I broke his nose once.”

Cries-loud smiled his crooked grin. “I’d forgotten,” he said.

Yaa balled her hand into a fist and faked a punch to the center of Cries-loud’s face. He flinched and raised his eyebrows at her, and she had to clamp her teeth together to keep from laughing.

“I have to tell my father about him,” Cries-loud said to her. “If you see caribou, you will have to come down yourself and run to tell the people, but leave as soon as you see the first animals, and run fast, so they do not see you.”

He started down the tree, then stopped, looked up at Yaa. “Since we had to have a girl watcher,” Cries-loud said, “I’m glad it’s you.”

It was as fine a compliment as Yaa had ever received, and she covered her face to hide her blush. When she finally pulled her hands away, Cries-loud was halfway down the tree.

THE NEAR RIVER CAMP

K’os saw Anaay outside Dii’s tent. He was doing nothing, did not even have a weapon in his hands. She walked over and squatted beside him. He looked at her with surprise, and she saw the derision in his eyes.

“You do not have enough work to do?” he asked.

“I have fed your dogs and cleaned your leggings. You have eaten, and there is a water bladder at your side. The traplines your wife and I set were empty this morning. We wait for the caribou. Have you had any more dreams? Have you called them to us?”

Her insolence was like splinters under his skin. How dare she speak to him in such a way? She was a slave, and he was leader of the whole Near River Village. All these people were here because he had brought them to this place. She was nothing except a woman who fed dogs and warmed the beds of those men he chose for her.

He owed her no answer, but anger forced words from his throat. “I have called the caribou, and they are coming. I have sent our youngest hunters to watch for them. Soon all the women’s knives will be busy.”

K’os stood and looked down at him. She curled her lips into a sneer. “Do not tell me you called the caribou. I am Cousin River. We passed the rock markers set in place by the Cousin River grandfathers. They guide our hunters, and they guide the caribou. You are stealing meat from the Cousin People. You think I do not know that? If you have the power to call caribou, then why are we here rather than in some new place?”

Anaay clasped the walking stick that lay on the ground beside him. He lashed it toward K’os, but her feet were nimble, and she only laughed at him, dancing away as he cursed her with words and thoughts.

THE COUSIN PEOPLE CAMP

Cries-loud met Chakliux and Ghaden as they came from the river.

“Caribou?” Chakliux asked, but Cries-loud did not answer. Instead he bent down to clasp Ghaden’s shoulders.

“You are alive!” he shouted, then, as though he had only just heard Chakliux, he said, “No, no caribou, but Yaa saw a man. She says it is someone from the Near River Village. A boy called River Ice Dancer.”

Chakliux filled his cheeks with air and blew it out in a quick, angry breath. “She is sure?” he asked.

Cries-loud nodded.

“He is a problem we do not need,” Chakliux said. “Did she see any other Near River hunters?”

“No.”

“Perhaps they have tired of the boy’s foolish ways and made him leave the village. Or perhaps the Near Rivers think their victory has given them the right to hunt our river.”

Chakliux tilted his head to look up at the sky. If the Near River hunters planned to take their caribou, then there was little hope the Cousin People would survive the winter. Perhaps by luck they could move quickly enough to find another herd, but that was unlikely. They could not even be sure the caribou would come to them here, though the animals had crossed within a half day’s walk of this place as long as Chakliux could remember. Perhaps the Near Rivers knew this also. The Cousin women they had taken as slaves and wives might have told them how to hunt at a river crossing.

K’os lived with the Near Rivers now. A woman who would kill her own grandson would have no trouble betraying her people if it meant her belly would be full. And how could they hope to fight the Near Rivers with only five healthy men in the Cousin River camp?

“Go back and tell your father,” Chakliux told Cries-loud. “Eat and sleep. Then, if the caribou have not yet come, return to the tree.”

He watched until Cries-loud was safely across the river, then walked with Ghaden toward the dark shadows of the spruce tree ridge.

Y
AA HEARD SOMEONE CLIMBING
and was surprised that Cries-loud had returned so quickly. When Chakliux popped up beside her in the tree, she gasped.

“I brought Ghaden to watch so you could go back to camp and get some sleep,” he said.

When Chakliux said Ghaden’s name, Yaa nearly spoke out loud, and remembered just as she opened her mouth that she was supposed to whisper. “He’s not hurt?”

“He is fine, but I don’t want to leave him here watching overnight. Go back and sleep, then return before the sun sets. I will stay with him. Go down and tell him to climb up, but first, where is this Near River hunter Cries-loud told us about?”

Yaa pointed with her chin toward River Ice Dancer. He was close enough now that she could make out several spears slung over his shoulder.

“You are sure it is River Ice Dancer?” Chakliux asked.

“Look,” Yaa whispered. “See how he walks with his head up like that? See the way he moves his arms?”

“He’s alone?” Chakliux asked.

Yaa nodded.

“Go down and send Ghaden up.”

She untied herself and fastened her pack to her back. When she was nearly to the ground, she saw Ghaden. Tears spilled from her eyes, and she knew he would be disgusted with her. She shimmied down the trunk, turning her face away until her feet were on the ground and she could rub her cheeks dry with the heels of her hands. Then she pointed up, but said nothing.

Ghaden looked pale, though his eyes were clear.

“Cries-loud told us about River Ice Dancer,” he said to her.

Yaa leaned close to whisper, “Go up and see what you think.”

“You’re going to the camp?”

“To sleep. I’ll return tonight if the caribou have not come.”

She boosted him to the first limbs, and when he caught hold, released her grip. He looked down, gave her a grin, then was gone, hidden by the thick branches of the tree.

Sok left camp as soon as Cries-loud told him about River Ice Dancer. He did not bother to take a pack, only picked up his spear and ran to the river. He waded across and began calling when he reached the second ridge. He pushed through the alder brush that edged the growth of spruce, then heard Chakliux’s voice. He followed it to the tree where Chakliux and Ghaden were watching.

Sok climbed up, took several deep breaths before he could get out his questions. “You’re sure it’s River Ice Dancer? Are there others?”

Ghaden extended his arm to point. “There. Look.”

Sok watched for a time, then said, “Yes, it’s him.”

“I haven’t seen any others,” Chakliux said. “You think he’s a scout?”

“Ghaden, did he own a dog?” Sok asked.

“A big black one,” Ghaden answered. “Mean.”

“He would have his dog if he was on a trading trip, and his pack would be larger.”

They watched as River Ice Dancer topped a treeless ridge, looked for a time toward the river, then broke into an easy lope, returning the way he had come.

“They sent him to find the river,” Chakliux said.

Sok patted the knife bound to his left arm. “They’ll have a fight if they think they can take our camp and hunt our caribou.”

Chakliux tried to clear his mind of the images that came to him. Men dying. Women weeping over the dead. The acrid smell of lodges burning. But the destruction had been greater than that. When it came time for the warriors to find their places in the spirit world, what would they do? For surely their souls were maimed by their hatred.

At dusk, Yaa and Cries-loud returned. Yaa climbed to her perch in the tree, whispered greetings to Chakliux and Ghaden, and watched as they climbed down. Though she had slept most of the afternoon, she still found it difficult to stay awake once the sun set. Her eyes kept closing until finally she bit the insides of her cheeks, used the taste of her own blood to keep away the dreams that crowded themselves under her eyelids.

The moon had not yet risen, and the stars seemed dim. It is the worst part of the night, she told herself, and thought of the caribou that would come, the days the women would spend cutting meat from the bones, slicing it thin to dry in smoky fires, eating some raw, still warm and rich with blood.

Perhaps, since she had been one of the watchers, Chakliux would allow her to have a few caribou teeth for a necklace. She thought of the warm parkas the women would make from the hides, the boot uppers from the leg skins. She made herself name the Cousin boys who had gone out to search for caribou—Squirrel, Caribou Tail and Black Stick—and wondered if River Ice Dancer was doing the same for the Near River People.

She knew that Chakliux was concerned to see River Ice Dancer near the Cousin hunting camp, but perhaps he had come on his own. He was like that. He did what he wanted and would not take the blame if his choices caused problems. Besides, why would the Near Rivers hunt caribou at a river crossing? They had never hunted rivers before.

Yaa hoped River Ice Dancer had not been kicked out of the Near River Village. If he had been, he would probably come to them, ask to join the Cousin People. How could they refuse him? He was strong, and they needed more hunters.

She would tell them not to take him in—perhaps Chakliux would listen to her, and certainly Sok knew what a problem River Ice Dancer could be.

A sound interrupted her thoughts. It was not caribou, but rather a wind combing the branches of her tree. The needles whispered, spoke to her in riddles:

Listen. What do you hear?

Then she heard the thunder of hooves, not in her ears but through her hands as she gripped the tree. Their walking was a pulse, as though she felt the earth’s heart beating.

The moon had risen and was a large yellow circle at the edge of the sky, still not high enough to give much light. But even so she saw the caribou, the white of their necks, the wide stripes that glazed their sides. They were a river, flowing light and dark over the tundra, and she heard their song: the clatter of antlers and leg joints, as though they were dancers, keeping rhythm to sacred chants.

Yaa pursed her lips and made a long, clear whistle. She smiled when she heard Cries-loud call out: “Caribou! Caribou! Caribou!”

C
HAKLIUX FIRST FELT THE
tremor of the earth in his otter foot, and then he heard Cries-loud calling as the boy ran into camp.

“Caribou! Caribou coming! Caribou!”

“Where?” Chakliux asked, and heard his question echoed by Sok and Night Man and several of the women.

“West, they are coming from the west and are turning south. Some have already begun to swim.”