People of the Lakes(27)
Bartering for the Trade goods had taken days, especially with the language difficulties—and Grandfather’s penchant for long, drawn-out dickering. Despite the sound the strangers made—a sort of swallowing of their words—they’d picked up some of the river pidgin, the universal talk of the Traders, and could make themselves understood.
Pearl had caught the eye of one of the young men, the apparent leader. He’d finally pointed at her and pushed forward all of their remaining copper: some plate, a few ear spools, a hairpiece, and some bracelets. To that they added several ground-stone adzes and made the sign indicating that a Trade was desired.
Pearl could understand male interest. She had a heart-shaped face framed by long black hair that gleamed with bluish tints in the sunlight. Having passed eighteen summers, she’d filled out into a full-figured, lithe woman. She’d seen admiration gleaming in men’s eyes as they appraised her high breasts, muscular waist, and smooth thighs. Were it not for her peculiar aversion to clan obligations, she would have been married long ago and surrounded by a squabbling brood of youngsters.
Somehow, the role of dutiful wife had never carried any appeal; she preferred to spend her days standing in the prow of a dugout canoe—atlatl and dart in hand—as the boat prowled the swamps in search of alligator. Her thrill came from tying a bloody bait to a length of braided-hemp line and dropping it into the deep water to draw Snapping Turtle from his muddy lair. No one could stay underwater for as long as Pearl in search of freshwater clams, or of conchs out beyond the surf. Her cousins grudgingly admitted that she could outswim Old Man Catfish himself.
Four moons ago, she’d returned from her most audacious achievement: accompanying some of her cousins on a Trading venture to the Island peoples across the sea. Not many Anhinga men, let alone women, could make such a claim.
She’d heard the joke that no sane man would marry Pearl.
After all, who wanted to marry a woman who was better at being a man than a man was? Nor had the Anhinga Clan cared much what she did. She helped keep the pots filled with crawfish, crab, and other delicacies from the swamplands and beaches. Besides, her older sisters had married successfully, and their daughters were now bringing new males and kinship alliances to the-clan.
Until the day the stranger had pointed at her, Pearl had been considered eccentric, and was ignored.
The sight of all that copper had unhinged something in Grandfather’s soul. His eyes had gleamed in anticipation. By dint of extraordinary effort, he’d finally managed to impart that Pearl could he had—but only in marriage. By this means. Grandfather would establish a kinship relationship with the people in the far north. Thereafter, he could send his canoes full of oyster shell, smoked fish, conch shell, sharks’ teeth, palmetto-frond matting, “swamp-tree moss, alligator skins, yaupon, colorful feathers, and other goods, to exchange for copper, chert, galena, steatite, obsidian, Knife River flint, quartz crystals, greenstone, effigy pipes, and other exotics. And all that without having to depend on unaligned Traders plying the river.
Days of haggling ensued, much to Pearl’s initial amusement.
They wanted to marry her to a young man—an important warrior’s son—in the far north. Surely this was just Grandfather’s way of extending a lucrative Trading session. Only after the agreement had been struck, finalized by the ritual exchange of blood and gifts, did Pearl realize that the Anhinga Clan not only meant to stick with the deal, but hoped to reap substantial benefit from it.
She’d gone to Grandmother, furious at being sold to a bunch of northern barbarians—only to find the old woman gleefully imagining the wealth that would accrue as a result of the union .
“Go, child. You’ll bring us fortune.”
“Go?” Pearl had demanded, flinging her arms out. “He should come here"
The old woman had shaken her head. “Up north, they trace descent through the man. A woman who marries goes to the man’s village. To us, it was worth all that copper to send you there. Think, girl. With that copper, we can Trade all along the coast. For each piece of copper plate, the coastal people will fill a canoe with conch shell. Those loads of shell will be following you upriver as soon as we can get them.”
“But, Grandmotherv The old woman had studied her from under half-lowered lids.
“But what? Pearl, who will you marry here? You’ve been of age for four years! Men smile at the mention of your name.
They respect you, like you. But marry you? That’s a different thing. What man wants to come here, sire a child in you, and have you leave him in the clan house to raise the infant by himself while you chase around wrestling alligators and teasing water moccasins?”