People of the Fire(3)

He stopped before his family's lodge, waiting as Two Smokes ducked inside, hearing the shuffling as the berdache carefully unwrapped the Wolf Bundle from the heavy par-fleche that kept it safe.

Ducking through the low doorway, Two Smokes cradled the Bundle so carefully wrapped in a beautifully tanned wolf hide. The pelt gleamed gray in the faint starlight.

"If you don't believe me, why did you come for the Bundle?" He pointed at the furry gray mass Two Smokes pressed to his heart. But the berdache simply brushed past, heading for the birthing lodge.

"Well? Why did you?"

The sigh from Two Smokes' breath lingered. "One day, Little Dancer, I'll tell you."

"But I want to know now. I can't see why—"

"You've seen the eagles nesting on the high cliffs. You've climbed up to look down on the newly hatched chicks."

"Uh-huh, and Eagle's a Power bird. I could feel that. I know what newly hatched chicks look like, all fuzzy and—"

"Would you push one of those fuzzy chicks out of the nest? Simply because he's an eagle, would you expect him to fly because of it? Because of the Power in him?"

"I . . . No."

"Then don't push yourself out of the nest until your feathers are ready to support you."

Perplexed and confused, Little Dancer tried to make sense of it. Does that mean I, too, have Power? The question dazzled him, a warm glow forming under his heart. For the briefest moment, a tingling thread seemed to wind between him and the Bundle tucked so tightly against Two Smokes' heart. The pattern snapped as neatly as a sage twig underfoot as Dancing Doe's miserable cry penetrated the walls of the birthing lodge.

"Wait out here—and out of sight, if you please." Then in a louder voice: "Sage Root? It's Two Smokes. I have something to help."

But Little Dancer had already raced for his peephole, ducking through the sage, hunching over the little opening.

He could see his mother's anxious look at Chokecherry. In a subdued voice she said, "He's berdache. He knows a great deal. Among his own people—"

"I know." Chokecherry stroked her chin. "The Anit'ah say the berdache have Spirit Power. Myself, yes, I believe it." She raised her voice. "Come, Two Smokes." Then quietly, "By the Blessing Power, we could use any help we could get . . . besides Heavy Beaver.''

Two Smokes ducked into the dimly lit lodge, the Bundle still pressed to his heart. "If you would, let me use the Wolf Bundle." He extended it reverently, a plea in his gentle eyes.

"The Wolf Bundle?" Chokecherry cocked her head, still fingering her sagging chin. "Yes . . . perhaps."

Dancing Doe looked up, a new fright in her eyes as she saw Two Smokes. "No! Not a man. Not here where—"

"Shhh!" Sage Root soothed. "He knows Power."

"I want Heavy Beaver!" The fear in her eyes deepened.

"I'm berdache," Two Smokes appealed. "I've done this before."

"Trust him," Chokecherry urged.

Dancing Doe didn't have time to respond; another contraction racked her. Chokecherry nodded curtly to the berdache and backed to allow him room.

Two Smokes settled next to the whimpering woman, careful fingers undoing the wolf hide. He laid the hide out as a protective mat to keep the sacred bundle from contact with the earth. As he began to chant in the melodious tones of the Anit'ah, Little Dancer leaned forward, eye pressed to the peephole to see.

From the outside, the Wolf Bundle didn't look like much, only a skin bag tightly bound and painted a deep red along the pointed end. The top had been left white, traced by lines that resembled veins. A heart! That's what it was, a heart fetish!

Two Smokes took sage from the pouch he carried, dipped it in water where it hung from a tripod, and sprinkled it into the fire. Behind him, Chokecherry and Sage Root exchanged nervous glances.

"Here, this needs to be made into tea." He extended a hand containing cleaned phlox. "She must drink some, the rest will be rubbed on her. Sage Root, wash her down there where the baby will come."

Then he lifted the Wolf Bundle up to the smoke hole, singing in the language of the Anit'ah, eyes closed, face serene.

From where he sat, Little Dancer watched, and a sudden giddiness swelled within, raising his soul to the haunting tones. The familiar feeling of Power wrapped around him.

Reeling, he barely noticed when Two Smokes touched the Bundle to Dancing Doe's perspiring forehead. The woman quieted, breathing easier. Two Smokes then touched the Bundle to her heart, just above the turtle effigy, then to her protruding navel and again to the swell of her pubis above the point of the yellow stripe.

Dancing Doe gasped, this time in relief.

The tea finished, Sage Root filled a buffalo-horn spoon, placing it to the woman's lips. Dancing Doe drank, and grimaced.