The Storyteller Trilogy (19 page)

Of course, Chakliux had seen most of these young hunters enter his mother’s lodge at one time or another. Best to keep them here for the night until he and Cloud Finder were on the trail to the Near River Village.

When Cloud Finder left the lodge, Chakliux stood, spoke. “Any man who is willing to learn the sacred songs and who carries respect in his heart can hunt denned bears,” he said. “Stay here this night. I will teach you songs given to me by the chief bear hunter of the Near River People. Even as an old man, his strength was legend. When Cloud Finder returns to this village, you will be ready to learn what he has to teach you, then you can hunt.”

Several men moved nervously. Chakliux knew they were the ones who wanted to fight the Near River People. Now they were being told to honor them by learning their songs, but most spoke in excited voices. They asked questions, and Chakliux answered in such a way that even the men with downcast eyes began to listen. So when Chakliux again offered to teach songs, all the men stayed, singing with him until they knew the words that Tsaani had taught Chakliux, grandfather to grandson.

Early in the morning Chakliux went to Cloud Finder’s lodge. He was met at the entrance tunnel by Cloud Finder’s daughter, Star. Chakliux had heard stories of her strangeness, that at times she seemed like a child too young to leave her mother, and at other times like a woman, wise in all ways.

Looking into her large eyes, Chakliux felt himself drawn to her.

Star leaned forward, whispered to Chakliux, “Take care of my father. He thinks he is still young. Even now, my mother hides herself in our lodge, ashamed of her tears.”

“Your father is a wise man,” Chakliux answered, allowing his eyes to linger on the girl’s face, on her smooth skin, the pink flush of her cheeks. “His wisdom will ensure his safety, and probably mine also, but I will do whatever I can to protect him.”

“I have heard the Near River women wear shell-beaded leggings,” Star said.

Chakliux, surprised by her boldness, thought for a moment, trying to remember what the women wore. “Yes,” he said, “some do.” He looked down at Cloud Finder’s daughter, again felt himself caught by her eyes. “If I have any trade goods left after dealing with your father,” he said, “I will try to get some leggings for you.”

She smiled, showing a dimple at the corner of her mouth. Then her father called from within the lodge, and she ducked inside. Cloud Finder came out. In his fur parka, he was as large as a bear. How had such a man made himself a small, beautiful daughter? Chakliux wondered. Then he pulled his mind from the girl and watched Cloud Finder fasten the dog Snow Hawk to Sok’s sled.

Chakliux was pleased when he found that Cloud Finder had decided to trade Snow Hawk. She was strong, with a wide chest and well-formed legs. Unlike other dogs, she would pull a sled, never fighting against the harness. She had also just given birth to a litter of healthy pups.

Cloud Finder handed them to Chakliux. They were in pouches of caribou skin hung from a sling.

“Put them inside,” Cloud Finder told him, pointing to Chakliux’s chest. He draped the sling around Chakliux’s neck and slid the pups down under his parka. They were still small, each no larger than Chakliux’s hand. He felt their warm tongues against his skin as he settled them into place.

Cloud Finder strapped on his snowshoes, hoops of willow bound into a circle with a webbing of rawhide. They were longer and wider than the snowshoes Chakliux wore. He gave a command, and Snow Hawk leaned her weight into Sok’s sled.

“Four females, one male,” Cloud Finder said, pursing his lips toward the bulge of pups under Chakliux’s parka.

Chakliux raised his eyebrows to show he understood. Four females, five counting Snow Hawk, and a male. And Cloud Finder to teach the Near River People how to raise strong dogs. A better trade than he had dared hope for.

Cloud Finder clasped Snow Hawk’s harness as she pulled the sled past the dogs still tied in the lee of his wife’s lodge. Snow Hawk raised her nose and howled. Chakliux looked nervously back toward K’os’s lodge. It was on the other side of the village, but she was a woman of sharp ears. He leaned toward Snow Hawk, cupped his hand over her muzzle. Her howling stopped, but she pranced as Cloud Finder untied one of his larger male dogs.

“Big Neck,” he said to Chakliux.

Chakliux remembered the dog. He had been the runt of a litter so large, the mother had trouble feeding them all. The owner had decided to kill the pup and add his meat to the village boiling bags, but Cloud Finder had seen the dog for his true worth, traded some small trinket for him. Now any man in the village would be proud to own Big Neck.

Big Neck carried his curled tail high, ears forward, and his feet danced as he met Snow Hawk. The dogs touched noses, then, responding to Cloud Finder’s command, led the way from the village.

“They are anxious to meet the Near River dogs,” Cloud Finder said, and laughed.

Chakliux smiled but did not speak his gladness. What could be better? They had Snow Hawk and her five pups. Perhaps while Cloud Finder was visiting the Near River Village, Big Neck would father litters to Near River females. Then even the young hunters would have to admit the generosity of the Cousin River People.

They walked through that day, stopping only to break away balls of snow that formed between the pads of the dogs’ feet and to allow Snow Hawk to nurse her pups.

That night they made a fire with wood Cloud Finder had loaded on the sled. They ate the hardened fat, berry cakes and dried meat Cloud Finder’s wife had packed for them, then tipped the sled up on its side, a break against the wind, a shelter for the fire, and spoke of times they had shared in the village.

Finally Cloud Finder asked, “Tell me about these Near River People. I have been in their village often, have bedded some of their women, but I do not know them like you do.”

“They are hardworking people,” Chakliux answered. “Their ways are much like ours. They are gifted hunters, but their dogs are not as good as ours, and their women are not as beautiful.”

Cloud Finder laughed, his voice loud in the cold air. “You told me the shaman’s daughter did not want you, but have you spoken for some other woman among them?” he asked.

“No,” Chakliux answered. He had taken the pups from beneath his parka. They lay now on a bed of spruce branches covered with a caribou skin, nursing from their mother. He leaned over and stroked Snow Hawk’s flank. He thought of Blueberry, but said, “I have no wife among them.”

Cloud Finder did not speak, and Chakliux understood the man waited for an explanation. Finally Chakliux said, “There is something I must tell you, something I did not know myself until I visited the Near River Village.” He straightened and turned to face Cloud Finder. “There is a woman in the Near River Village who claims me as son. She says she threw me away, left me for the wind because of my foot.”

“So,” Cloud Finder said, “to the Near River People you are not animal-gift. Do they see you as cursed?”

“Some of them. Others do not. They remember that I swim. They see my feet as proof of otter blood.”

For a long time, Cloud Finder watched the flames of their fire, then he said, “That is how I see you, as otter. A man who works for peace is a good man, no matter who his mother is.”

And Chakliux knew he did not refer to his Near River mother, but to K’os.

They awoke to storm, the dogs curled tightly against the wind, tails tucked over noses. They had allowed the pups to sleep with their mother for the night, and Chakliux crawled on hands and knees from the shelter of fur robes and crusted snow to check them.

The wind flung snow and ice, sharp as stone. He spoke to the dogs, though the storm whipped away his words. He did not want to startle Snow Hawk, face her teeth as she leapt to protect her young. But she did not move. Carefully, he slipped his hand into the mound of snow that covered her, trying not to dislodge it, knowing it held in her warmth, but she raised her head at his touch. He slipped his caribou hide mitten from his hand and worked his fingers down to Snow Hawk’s belly.

He found the first pup, mouth tight on one of its mother’s teats. The pup’s heartbeat was strong against Chakliux’s fingertips. He moved his hand over each pup. They were warm, dry and alive. He went back to his own place, tucked himself close to the upturned sled. He felt a tug at his arm and responded to Cloud Finder’s question.

“Snow Hawk and the pups are fine. I did not check Big Neck.”

“He has seen many storms,” Cloud Finder said. “Do not worry about him.” He handed Chakliux a stick of dried meat. Chakliux clamped the end in his teeth and cut off a bite-sized piece with his sleeve knife. The taste of wood smoke warmed him as though he held a small hearth fire in his mouth.

The storm left them the next night, and they started out under the clear shine of stars. Snow Hawk seemed anxious, the bitch pulling against the sled harness until Chakliux allowed her to begin.

As they walked, Chakliux heard a crackling sound that came first to his spirit then to his ears. He looked back over his shoulder, toward the high dark sky of the north, smiled when he saw the yaykaas—the flashing sky—bend and shimmer in greens and pinks.

“See,” Cloud Finder said, and lifted one arm toward the lights that moved like dancers above the earth. “Our ancestors tell us we do well. They are the grandfathers of both villages and do not want to see their children kill one another.”

“Yes,” Chakliux said. He felt the squirm of the pups beneath his parka and sudden strength filled his body. Whatever the Near River People thought about him, when they saw the dogs they could not deny that he tried to bring them something good.

He looked ahead to Snow Hawk. No dog in the Near River Village could match her, not even Tsaani’s good bear dogs. She seemed to pull the sled with little effort. Big Neck walked beside her, head high, eyes scanning as though he alone were responsible for their safety.

Suddenly Big Neck stopped, lifted his nose into the air. Cloud Finder slapped an arm against Chakliux’s shoulder and pointed with a mittened hand toward the dog. Chakliux nodded as Big Neck pranced in a nervous circle, then darted back to look behind them. The dog raised his nose again, growled low in his throat.

“Wolves,” Cloud Finder said. “They will be hungry after that storm.”

He spoke sharply to Big Neck. The dog whined, then rejoined them, moving in close to Snow Hawk. Snow Hawk glanced at him but kept pulling, cocking her head back now and again to look at Chakliux’s chest, the bulge that was her pups. Cloud Finder motioned her forward without speaking, and she continued, but she began a high-pitched whine Chakliux could hear over the sound of the sled runners.

He leaned down close to the dog and said, “Do not worry. They are safe.” But she continued to whine, and increased her speed so Chakliux nearly had to run to keep up with her.

“Slow her down,” Cloud Finder called. “She will make us sweat.”

Yes, Chakliux thought, knowing the sweat would form a thin layer of ice against their skin, enough to freeze them before they got to the Near River Village. He caught the back edge of the sled and held it until, under the pressure of his hands, Snow Hawk slowed. He turned to look back at Cloud Finder. Cloud Finder nodded at him, then lifted his left hand, showing Chakliux he had taken his sleeve knife from its sheath.

Sok had given Chakliux a long-bladed obsidian knife the morning he left the Near River Village; not for trade, Sok had told him, but as protection. Chakliux drew it now from the scabbard tied on the outside of his right calf. The black blade drew a nod of admiration from Cloud Finder.

“From my brother,” Chakliux said.

“You would consider a trade?” Cloud Finder asked.

“I cannot.”

“So one good thing has come of your visit to the Near Rivers,” Cloud Finder said. “Your brother.”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps his knife will bring us luck against the wolves.”

Big Neck stopped, turned to face whatever followed them. Finally Cloud Finder also stopped, squinted down the trail.

Chakliux continued to walk, and when Cloud Finder caught up with him, he asked, “Did you see anything?”

“Nothing, but do not put away your knife. We should walk as far as we can. Perhaps we can reach the Near River Village without stopping.”

“What about the dogs?”

“It will be easier for them than for us,” said Cloud Finder, and tried to laugh, but his laughter was hollow under the dome of the night sky.

It is too far, Chakliux thought, already feeling the ache in his foot, already hearing Cloud Finder’s ragged breathing. If he had two strong feet, if Cloud Finder was thin, agile, they might make it, but, no, not as they were. They would have to stop and face the wolves.

They walked through the night and on into the day, the sun glaring through the slits of their caribou antler snow goggles, and they continued to walk once the sun had set. Still they had not reached the Near River, so that Chakliux wondered if somehow, in the storm, they had begun to circle, losing themselves on the tundra. At least the dogs were no longer skittish. The wolves, Chakliux decided, must have grown weary of following them.

Finally they stopped. Even the dogs moved with stiff legs. Chakliux’s eyes burned from the day of sun on snow, and in the dark all things seemed spotted with slits of light so he could not be sure of what he saw. His hands, now accustomed to Snow Hawk’s harness, worked without the help of his eyes to unfasten the dog. He reached into his parka to give her the pups for feeding, but she leapt away as Cloud Finder threw out pieces of dog salmon for her and Big Neck.

Chakliux dug down to bare ground, then spread a layer of spruce branches and laid out wood for a fire. He took fireweed fluff and shreds of dried birchbark from a packet hung at his neck and set it around a piece of notched wood, then took out his fire bow. He twisted the string around the twirling stick, set the stick into the notched wood, then pressed his chin against the cup at the top of the stick. He used the bow to twist and untwist the string, twirling the stick until movement and pressure made heat strong enough to create fire. The flames caught the fireweed fluff, then spread to the bark and wood.