People called to each other, scurrying about, chattering with excitement. Everyone wanted to hear the news.
Three Rattles grinned, though his cheeks looked stiff with cold. Frost had frozen on his braids where foggy breath touched. The collar of his fur-lined coat had gone hoary, obscuring the fine fox-fur lining of his hood.
Ramshorn and Never Sweat already stood anxiously at Blood Bear's lodge flap. One Cast and Wet Rain came walking across the camp, holding hands, talking with animation. Green Horn ducked out of her lodge, a steaming haunch sagging between her gnarled fists.
"Come, warm up." Blood Bear held the flap back and motioned Three Rattles to the place of honor next to the Wolf Bundle. Someone handed a steaming bowl of stew to the Trader, who drank deeply. Hot, roasted meat appeared on a carved wooden plate.
The rules of hospitality seen to, Blood Bear looked around at his packed lodge. All the elders sat crammed, shoulder to shoulder, taking up every bit of space. Expectant expressions filled their faces, keen eyes on Three Rattles as they waited for him to eat and drink and warm his hands by the fire.
"Tell us all," Blood Bear began with a sweeping gesture of his hand as Three Rattles placed the empty horn bowl on the ground before him and politely belched with gusto. "You said a Squashed Rock Trader was killed last year?''
The listeners gasped, some placing hands over their mouths to signify the horror of it.
Three Rattles nodded, taking his stone pipe from his pack. He carefully packed it with red willow bark and snagged a half-burned stick from the fire to light it. He puffed and passed the pipe to Blood Bear. From his lips it went around the lodge.
"I don't know the particulars. I heard the story among the Cut Hair People. Their leader, old Fat Dog, doesn't speak highly of the Short Buffalo People—even if his mother was one of their women.
"Anyway, lightning strike me dead if this isn't reported in the same manner as I heard it, but Fat Dog told me that Heavy Beaver says his spirits have Dreamed to him that all the old Power is evil. And that includes the special Power that Traders live under. He's told his raiders that they can take what they will from Traders without fear.
"Apparently the Squash Rock Trader—who I'd met and knew as Jay Bird—wouldn't let the Short Buffalo warriors take his pack. Instead, he used his staff to slap one of the young men across the face. That so angered the warriors that they darted him on the spot and left him there in the sun after taking his pack."
A low murmur of discontent spread among the elders, faces going grim.
Blood Bear stared at the fire through slitted eyes. "Doesn't the fool know that he'll cut off trade along the mountains? How does he expect to get Knife River flint from up north? Or that salty fish—like that stuff you gave me that time—from the south? How are people supposed to know what's going on? Will the Traders start going west of the mountains?"
Three Rattles shrugged. "I don't know. Honestly, it's a hard journey to travel west of the mountains. The land is all broken with sandstone walls and huge canyons and high mountains here and there. The rivers run deeper and are more dangerous to cross. Water is harder to find and I don't know all the people who live back there. I don't know if they would honor a Trader's staff . . . and they don't know the signs to communicate."
"Could they go through the mountains, maybe?" One Cast wondered, pointing southward. "When I was a young man, I went down the spine of the mountains. There are big open valleys that run part of the way, but the passes are high, the trails irregular where they run through the timber. Still, it's a way."
Three Rattles had listened, nodding as One Cast spoke.
"It's a way. You're right. And I don't know how to answer your question. For myself, I can say only that I wouldn't want to try the high peaks. I think I'll try a different way, maybe go west over the mountains and catch the trail that follows the Angry White Water River to the Silver River to the ocean where Father Sun dives into the sea. The trading is supposed to be good there. Seashells come from there, and smoked fish, and good obsidian.
“I’ll miss the buffalo plains and a lot of old friends, but even now, it's not the same. The Cut Hair have been pushed south of the Sand River. The Squashed Rock are nervous about the Cut Hair fleeing south. Some say they've fought with each other over who got to pushing who out of their lands. My people, the White Crane, have been raided by the Short Buffalo till we've had to move our hunting territory far north of the Big River to avoid the Short Buffalo People. Up there, we've had to fight with the People of the Mask, who don't want us in their lands. The Fire Buffalo People, who live where the Big River runs south to the Father Water, have also been raided. They've vowed to retaliate next year when they've purified their young men and made a new Power for their darts.