People of the Lakes(244)
If only he’d said something, indicated that there was any hope that I might be anything but a remote friend … Pearl took a deep breath and sighed. The Trader would probably spend the rest of his life torturing himself over this Red Moccasins who had married his twin brother.
Face it. Trying to compete with Red Moccasins would drive you as mad as the foaming-mouth disease.
She stared out at the shoreline, illuminated by the dying sun.
Dark waves slowly rolled away from the canoe, getting smaller and smaller in the distance before bursting into a surf that melted whitely into the sandy beach. Beyond, rising ranks of sand marched inland, capped by thin stands of grass. The tree line— where it could be seen between the dunes—made a hazy green mat in the distance.
The fact is, you don’t have a future. She pulled her hair back with a slim hand. On the river, fleeing the Khota, she’d only had time for the struggle to survive. But here, with nothing but the captivity of sky and water, the reality of her situation had to be faced. She couldn’t return to the Anhinga. What people would want a clanless woman? She now must live without roots, without place or people.
The future had turned lonely and cold. What did a woman alone in the world do to survive? Pray that some family would feed and shelter her in return for labor in their fields, for hauling their firewood, grinding their flour? That placed her one step higher than a camp dog.
Build a canoe, go into Trade the way Otter suggested? She thought of the Ilini. Patrilineal peoples had different ideas about women—and even among her own Anhinga, Trade was conducted by men. Would they deign to barter with her? Or would they just take what they wanted from a clanless woman?
She pulled uneasily at her hair. Otter had fictive kin all up and down the river. How would she manage that? The social reality was that males could marry any number of wives, get them pregnant, or refuse to couple with them, then leave to go Trading, all with no hard feelings. But since she had no property, any man who married her would want to consummate the relationship … and that could be disastrous. Granted, she knew the plants to use for douches and how to take precautions during the month, but somewhere along the line, she would conceive a child.
So many complications, and no answers. Who are you, Pearl?
Where are you going? What are you going to do?
The slanting afternoon sun gleamed golden on the expanse of water that stretched to the western horizon.
“Canoe!” Black Skull called, pointing ahead of them.
Pearl shaded her eyes to see as Otter jerked awake, staring wildly. He seemed to shiver, perhaps recovering from a nightmare.
The approaching vessel turned from a bobbing silhouette into a small dugout that carried two men with -a pile of netting mounded between them. Sunlight flashed on the paddles.
When they were close enough, Otter cupped his hands and shouted, “Greetings!” in Trade pidgin.
“Greetings!” the reply came in pidgin; then, to Pearl’s surprise, they changed to Ilini. “Who are you? Where are you from? Do you speak our tongue?”
In pidgin, Otter called out introductions, but the men in the canoe waved their hands that they didn’t understand, shouting back in Ilini, “We know very little Trader talk. We speak only Ilini! Who are you?”
Pearl cupped her hands, shouting in her Khota tongue, “May the blessings of Many Colored Crow be bestowed on you and all of your clan. We are Traders from the far south. We are just passing through. I am Pearl of the Anhinga. I am accompanied by Otter, the Water Fox, of the White Shell people, and Black Skull, a warrior of the City of the Dead, and Green Spider, of the Blood Clan.”
As they closed, the two men appeared unduly wary. Pearl could tell that they grasped atlatls, each nocked and carefully held just below the gunwale of their canoe.
The call came back: “Greetings, Traders! I am Trout. This is Thin Belt. We’re of the Northern Hummingbird clan. Our clan grounds are about a day south of here, and then two days’ east, upriver and inland. You are welcome to come there. Our Elders would feast you and make you comfortable.”
Pearl translated as the Ilini paddled closer.
“Find out where we are,” Otter said. “And tell them they won’t need their weapons. We’re Traders.”
Pearl cupped her hands and shouted Otter’s words, somewhat relieved that he hadn’t been unaware.
. Trout and his companion raised both hands above the gunwales.
The Ilini responded, “Ilini territory lies to the south of here. To the north, however, you get into the country we call the Wild Lands. Forgive us for being wary, but the people there are warlike. They grow little of their food, but mostly hunt, fish, or harvest the rest out of the lake and forest. They are a lot like animals.”