People of the Fire(124)

"This is your shelter?" He stepped around the brush and pointed.

"Next one down. That shelter belongs to Three Toes and Meadowlark." As she spoke, Grasshopper came charging up the slope.

"What did you get? Who's come?" Grasshopper demanded, popping from foot to foot, eyes wide as he studied Ramshorn.

"This is the Red Hand warrior, Ramshorn. He's come to see Hungry Bull and the rest of the men."

"To get them to go off to war against the Short Buffalo People?" His jumping increased. "Didn't Blood Bear send someone last year and Hungry Bull and my father told him they couldn't fight against their relatives and—"

"Yes, yes, but this is a new year." She poked at him playfully with her walking stick. "So go tell your father and the rest that Ramshorn has come. Go on. At least we'll feast him until his belly pops and send him on his way happy and full of good memories."

Grasshopper grinned, whooping and jumping as he bolted back down the trail. Before her shelter she could see the big black wolf. As always, a shiver shot up her spine.

"I could help you with the pack," Ramshorn offered again, carefully avoiding the issue Grasshopper had broken open like an overripe gourd.

"Path's better here. We're almost home." And better to be no more in your debt than possible.

As they neared the shelter she inhabited with Little Dancer, the angry squall of a baby could be heard. "That sound grating on your ears is the young one. Little Dancer might be the best father among the all the people in the world, but for some reason his dugs just don't keep the little ones happy."

Ramshorn smiled politely and gave her his hand as she climbed up the fill before the shelter. The big black wolf slunk off the other side of the midden and paused downwind, testing the air guardedly. She groaned as she lowered the pack and ducked out of the tumpline. "Hey, lazy man of mine! Come see what your wife got while you were fooling around with the infants!"

Ramshorn looked around, sniffing the air. "I figured it would be a little more like a . . . well, you know how a camp gets after it's been lived in. And you've stayed her for how long?"

She grinned at him, hearing Little Dancer pulling the flap back, yawning. How could he sleep through the baby? "We have a lot of children around here. They need something to do, so they clean up the winter scat and throw them in the drainage where the rains take them away."

"Deer hocks?" Little Dancer asked, blinking himself awake. He nodded to Ramshorn. "Blood Bear wants warriors again?"

"The Short Buffalo People have already sent scouts up the trails. More than ever before. We've caught some, others get through. They're learning, though. We had three women killed and a couple of children. Snaps Horn and some others caught them at a steep place and rolled rocks down from above. The ones that lived were darted and cut up. Their pieces hang from thongs over the old trail up the Clear River."

Little Dancer nodded, flinching slightly, which accented the scar in his cheek. "Seat yourself. It's nicer outside than in. Are you thirsty?"

“Water would be wonderful. It's a long walk since the last spring."

"Up by Monster Rock?"

"Is that what was pecked there?"

Little Dancer nodded, reaching for a buffalo-gut bag that hung inside the door flap. "I think it originally showed men throwing darts at the monster, but you can only see that when the light's right. I guess it proves that not even the rocks last forever."

Ramshorn took the water, drinking greedily.

"How's White Calf?"

"Immortal." Ramshorn wiped the water from his lips, handing the bag back. "I imagine she's no different than when you saw her this last winter. The skinnier she gets, the feebler she gets, the keener her old mind is. Blood Bear stopped there with a war party and she poked and prodded at him until he left in disgust muttering that he should have killed her long ago. She just cackles and feeds it to him. The Red Hand love it and most of the warriors can't wait to make it home and tell the stories."

"I don't trust Blood Bear when it comes to his dealings with White Calf. I don't suppose with all these Short Buffalo warriors roaming everywhere that she'd move?"

"I doubt it, she says they won't bother her. That she'll show them the real meaning of a Curse if one tries anything."

"It would be best for everyone if the Short Buffalo left well enough alone and went back to their plains."

"Perhaps." Ramshorn settled himself comfortably as Elk Charm ducked inside. After she rescued the infant from its cradle board, she slipped her shoulder out of the dress and emerged with the infant attached greedily to her right breast.