People of the Lakes(106)
Only Green Spider’s sudden decision to leap up and start running around in circles, gobbling, and flapping imaginary wings, had kept a melee from evolving out of Black Skull’s surly behavior. That, and a curt reminder from Otter about whose territory they stood in, and who had been given authority by the Clan Elders.
Otter rose from the fire and stepped into the trees. At times, latfe at night, he was convinced that this entire journey was headed for disaster. Black Skull was going to explode at the least opportune moment. Green Spider wasn’t going to know which way to go. Power, you’d better have a good Trade in mind to even this out.
But Power rarely Traded in respect to value. Offer a piece of copper and Power would give you a rock in return.
Otter was pulling another log out when Black Skull appeared from the trees. He traveled silently, his moccasined feet moving ghostlike on the leaf mat. The big warrior looked grim. “You’d better come look.”
Otter dropped the log and followed Black Skull down to the beach. A ways above Wave Dancer’s landing, long marks could be seen in the sand, along with dimpled tracks.
Black Skull bent down, pointing. “Canoes, four of them.
They beached here. The tracks have mostly been washed out by the rain, but you can still read them. These dimpled ones here, that’s where they pushed the canoes out. But look at these, up here by the bow. See how deep they are? And smaller. Like a boy, or a woman, tried to push the boat out.”
Black Skull moved to the second. “Same thing here.”
Otter pursed his lips as cold water trickled down his face.
“What makes you think that wasn’t where they pushed the canoe off?”
“Whoever was trying to push the boat off didn’t succeed.
You don’t see any other small tracks following the boat down as it slid into the water. Come.”
Black Skull pointed at the brown sand. “See here? The tracks turn. From the way they twist and dig in, the woman was running.
See how the stride lengthens? Look close at this track here.
See how the heel pushed deeply into the sand and the toes gouged?”
“But I don’t—”
“You’re not a tracker. How do you run, Trader? The heel hits first, and you push off with your toes. That’s why the track breaks like this. And down here, a man, a big man, is running behind her, see? His stride is greater than hers.”
They followed the tracks down past where Wave Dancer lay canted on the sand. ‘, “Look at this!” Black Skull squatted to finger a smooth depression.
“Someone fell here. Look, see this? That’s where he .pushed up. Before the rain, you’d have seen a palm print. And what’s this?”
Black Skull plucked a strand of leather from the sand. Tugging gently, he pulled it loose, including the polished stone tied to the end.
“A bola weight?” Otter reached down to examine it. Bola stones were ground into long teardrop shapes, the tips pointed.
Black Skull chuckled. “This Pearl, she’s canny. She brought down this man who was chasing her.”
Otter bent low, squinting at the sand. “So did she get away?”
Black Skull stood, slapping the sand from his hands. “Let’s see.”
They worked out the tracks to the point where a broken branch as thick as a man’s arm protruded from the sand.
“She would have been able to jump that,” Otter exclaimed.
“I know Pearl. She’s half wildcat.”
“Would she have seen it in the dark, Trader? And yes, here, on the other side, look. She fell. From these tracks here, another man came in and pounced on her. See the drag marks? Like he pulled her back from the water.” Otter sighed and straightened. “Too bad. I wish she’d gotten away.”
Black Skull stared out at the river. “She almost did. Not that it would have done her much good.”
“She’d be free. According to the stories her people tell about her, she can outswim a catfish.”
Black Skull shrugged. “I’ve been swimming in your river, Trader. And that was considerably south of here. How long would she have lasted in that cold? Not long enough to make the shore. Not at night.”
Otter reached down to touch the cold water. Black Skull was right. Not even Pearl could have lasted long in that.
Black Skull wiped rain from his face. “Better for her that they caught her. She may be a captive, but at least she’s alive.”
As the warrior turned back toward the fire, Otter stared at the depressions in the damp sand. Unconsciously, he patted the prayer mat he’d placed in his shirt. It now rested over his heart.
I, “Maybe. But knowing the Khota, perhaps she’d rather be dead/’