Otter sensed the abrupt drop in pressure as the wind lessened.
Nevertheless, they’d opened a lead on the pursuit. The Badger people were now well out of dart range, and sunlight flashed on frantic paddles.
“How are we doing?” Black Skull asked, his view blocked by the mat.
“We gain some, we lose some. Right now, we’re losing.”
But as Otter spoke, the wind freshened.
“There’s our island,” Pearl noted, nodding toward it. “The channel we want is to the right, but it’s at an angle to the wind.”
Otter contemplated the strength of the wind and the position of the pursuers. Just as they’d poured all of their heart into Wave Dancer’s initial sprint, the Badger folk had now used up a burst of energy in trying to bring their quarry to bay.
“And on the other side of the island?” Otter asked. “If we go north, what do”we find?”
“Open water … I think.”
Otter worked his tongue around his dry mouth, wishing he could reach down and cup up a drink. “All right. If we head for open water, we can use the stars. Paddling straight south should take us right back to the coastline, shouldn’t it?” “Who’s afraid of open water?” Pearl asked.
“I am,” Black Skull retorted. “Mostly.”
“Stay with the wind,” Otter decided. “Black Skull, take us straight east.”
Again the wind strengthened, and again Wave Dancer pulled ahead, only to have the fickle wind die away to the point that Otter, Pearl, and Green Spider dropped the mat and began paddling.
Shouts of renewed hope carried faintly to them as the hunters rekindled their chase.
The big, humped island slowly passed off to their right. The
rolling slopes appeared to be thickly wooded behind a wave-cut shoreline. The white beach was littered with driftwood. Several small fishing camps could be seen on the shore, but the people there only shaded their eyes to watch them pass.
Relentlessly, the hunters closed the gap, but fewer of the boats remained, the others having either exhausted themselves or lost interest and turned back.
“Are we going to make it?” Pearl continued to stroke with her paddle despite trembling arms.
“I don’t know,” Otter told her. The wind blowing on his back was no more than a pleasant breeze.
The sun had moved high into the sky as they cleared the last sandy spit and headed out into open water. Ahead of them, nothing but magical blue sparkled against the glaring horizon.
Puffy white clouds had formed to march across the sky.
A dart thooshed into the water behind them.
Paddle, Otter told himself grimly. All you can do is to paddle.
His bones ached, and his muscles cramped and knotted with fiery exhaustion. Maybe it would be better just to let the wicked Badger hunters kill him.
You can’t let them have Pearl. He glanced behind him. The sinking sensation of defeat was tempered by the fact that only two canoes had followed them past the tip of the island. All of the others had turned back.
How many ups and downs could a man have in a day?
“One thing’s sure, they’ll have earned it,” Pearl stated matter of-factly.
“Yes, I guess we know that they weren’t the friendly sort.
No one would work this hard just to Trade for a couple of sharks’ teeth and some shells.”
Another dart thooshed down to bob up in front of them.
“That’s enough,” Black Skull growled, throwing down his paddle and picking up his atlatl. “The wind’s gone. I’m going to show these tree-crawling maggots what atlatls can do.”
Otter glanced back over his shoulder, horrified at the closeness of the nearest canoe. As he watched, Black Skull cast, his dart dropping on the lead warrior. The man screamed and pitched backward before the canoe veered off. The second boat slowed, paddles dripping as it coasted.
“Let’s go back. I can kill them all if we do.” Black Skull fitted a second dart into his atlatl. He braced on Wave Dancer’s pitching deck and cast; the dart embedded on the distant canoe’s hull with an audible thunk.
“Let them go,” Otter said wearily as the two canoes shied off, the paddlers heading back toward the island.
“I gu;ss they’ll think a lot about chasing us again,” Green Spider asserted as he poked his finger through the dart hole in his shirt.
Pearl collapsed onto the packs, moanin’g. “Blessed Spirits, how soon, Green Spider? When will they be back?”
“Before we’re ready for them, that’s for sure.”
Pearl rubbed her face briskly with both hands. “I wish I were drowned.”
Under other circumstances, Otter would have considered heaving her overboard for the fun of it. Instead, he just slumped.