The smiles had grown wide again. “You would come to Shinbone’s village and Trade?”
Otter perched himself on the gunwale. ‘ “That depends. Where is it? We’re heading for a river that empties from the Fresh Water Sea. We’ve been told that it’s down south near here, along this shoreline.”
The elder youth smacked his paddle against the side of his canoe.
“We have our village just a short way down the channel … on the east side. You have reached the Spotted Loon lands. Follow us.
We’ll show you.” Then he grinned. “Fortrade, right?”
“Right. But … up north, we were chased.”
“Yes, we know. Wild land people. They’re not like us. We are Shinbone’s people. You are safe here. We like /Traders.
Make a Trader mad and he won’t come back, right?”
“Right!”
“Follow!” And they dug in with their paddles, turning the awkward dugout.
“I think we’re all right,” Pearl said as she located her paddle.
“Trout mentioned the Spotted Loon people. He said we’d be safe when we reached their lands.”
“Shinbone?” Otter rubbed his cheek. “And he’s down our river?”
“Maybe,” Black Skull mused, “we’re back among normal people. Shall we see what the night brings, Trader?”
“Wretched night!” Green Spider declared. “Gutted and splayed, our flesh rotting in the sun. Look at us … bones all broken. All that pain—and me, starving to death, stuck to the floor.”
“Stuck to the floor?” Black Skull wondered. “By what?
You’re not planning on making somebody so crazy he’ll drive a dart through you when you’re asleep, are you?”
Green Spider nodded vigorously, his eyes wide and serious.
Pearl glanced back, winking at Otter. “Well, if it gets rough, Black Skull can just kill a few people and bail us out again.”
She arched her back. “I’m ready for another night on shore … where the ground is flat and nothing moves.”
“Thought you liked deep water,” Otter goaded.
“I’d like hot stew, too. And maybe a thick roll of backstrap freshly cut from a deer and roasted down deep in the coals until the meat can be picked apart with the ringers.”
“All right. Enough,” Otter groaned. “Let’s paddle.”
The youths in the lead canoe paddled with happy abandon, fighting their stubby craft through the water, periodically calling back encouragement.
When Otter shaded his eyes, he could see a shoreline rising out of the water ahead of them. What began as a broad, tree lined inlet narrowed to a sluggish river, pulling them onward.
“Now this,” Black Skull declared, “is more like it.”
In places, the forest ran right to the water’s edge, then gave way to stretches of sand and occasional marsh. Lines of crooked sticks protruding from the clear water marked the location of weirs and fish traps. Here and there, floats indicated nets or trotlines.
“Starting to look inhabited,” Otter stated.
“How beautiful and peaceful,” Pearl whispered happily as they coasted through the trees mirrored in the tranquil water.
After endless waves, the lush river came as a relief. Catcher stood on the packs, his tail waving back and forth as he sniffed the fragrant air. Birdsong created a symphony in the verdant maple, oak, hickory, and beech that rose in high splendor.
The sun had disappeared behind the trees, leaving them in shadow, when their youthful escort cut left, following a lazy stream. Here a marker! consisting of several planks tied together had been placed on the bank. The painted yellow surface bore a blue squint-eyed face with a protruding tongue.
Otter used his paddle to guide Wave Dancer into the narrow stream. People shouted from back in the forest, and the youths answered. Otter could smell wood smoke and the characteristic odor of a village. The locals appeared from among the shadowed boles, running down to stare and wave.
Men wore hide breechcloths with wide flaps that hung down to their knees in front and back. Each was decorated with a design: a bird, bear, or other emblem. The women were bare chested but wore skirts that ended just below the knee. One or two carried infants under one arm, while children and dogs materialized as if magically from the forest depths.
They landed their canoes at a place where the bank had collapsed.
Canoe-building, Otter discovered as they beached, was not a high art here. Generally, the Spotted Loon people hacked down a tree, peeled the bark away and hollowed out the trunk by means of fire, adze, and gouge—but without the finesse he was accustomed to. Some crude chopping was done to create a bow of sorts, but little else.