“Everything! All the things that there are to be told in the whole world!” the fool said as the crow winged its way eastward.
Black Skull cast occasional glances over his shoulder. Either his lack of sleep the night before was clouding his judgment or the Contrary looked slightly sick. Maybe he’d eaten too much of the fish.
Throughout the day, Black Skull paddled, driving the boat westward toward the shore, then south in search of the outlet to Upper Lake.
“You’re quiet,” Pearl finally called.
Black Skull was remembering those happy eyes staring into his. “I could have changed my life. I could have married that girl.”
Pearl gave him a reassuring smile. “Could have changed your life, warrior? What? Again?” “I suppose I never thought of it that way. But, yes!” And I never even knew her name.
Forty-four
I suspect I am one of the few Dreamers in history to be so beleaguered by Spirit Helpers. They won’t leave me alone. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t even go into the forest to relieve myself without being accosted by howling wolves or fluttering black wings.
They tug me back and forth, back and forth, so Powerfully that sometimes I fear they will tear me in two.
Maybe I should let them do that … let each rip off and devour half of me.
In the empty space left between the halves, maybe I can find the present moment.
I have come to believe in that moment.
Indeed, I have convinced myself that it is the bridge across the battlefield.
Wolf of the Dead let out a whoop as the slim bow of his war canoe cut a V-shaped wake into the open water of Upper Lake.
Behind him, the rest of his canoes raced out of the river’s mouth and into wind-patterned water. The thickly wooded banks of the Dry Grape River lay behind them now, marked only with the standards of the clan holdings upriver. For Wolf of the Dead, the present was here, now, on this vast body of water. Somewhere out in that vast blue, he’d find Water Fox, Pearl, and their party.
More shouts of triumph followed as the warriors stared at the long-sought sea. They shipped paddles—the entire war party— just looking, savoring this sight they’d labored so long for. The canoes barely rocked on the rippled waters.
“Where do you think they are?” Grizzly Tooth wondered.
“I see a lot of water out there. Where do we begin?”
Wolf of the Dead ran his tongue through the gap in his teeth, trying to sense the direction … and found only a blank. ‘ This Roaring Water, it lies on the far end of this lake.” He studied the shoreline, noting that it seemed to run north-south. They had indeed come out on the western shore. But which way was the closest to the Roaring Water?
“Look!” Grizzly Tooth pointed at the sky, his human-andbear-tooth necklace rattling. There a bald eagle soared to the northwest. “A sign?”
Perhaps, but then if not, it would serve for the moment. “That way!” Wolf of the Dead pointed to the northwest.
Seventeen paddles bit into the water, the lean shapes of the war canoes arrowing out into the lake.
The country changed as they followed the Spirit Frog River westward, then north. Where the river meandered through low hills in the beginning, it now cut lazy esses through gently undulating forest. Here and there, they passed fish weirs, clan totems, and occasional fields. They met two or three canoes, calling out greetings, or waving at people on the shore, but the land was wilder here, more forbidding than south of the divide.
Little was said as they landed and built a camp on a high bank under the trees. Pale Snake had tugged the canoe up on the mud, unloaded the packs, and with his usual efficiency, started a fire before setting about cooking a meal. Star Shell and Silver Water had foraged for firewood and then retired to bathe.
A grove of red oaks sheltered them. Just upriver, they’d passed the Acorn clan grounds. The decision had been made, however, that there would be no stopping and socializing. Their goal was to travel as far as they could each day—and the fewer who knew of them, the better.
Dinner was a quiet affair, and Star Shell found herself oddly disturbed that Pale Snake’s usual ebullience had vanished. It surprised her to discover that his irreverent attitude had buoyed her spirits.
“Mama?” Silver Water asked as Star Shell rolled out her blankets. “Will Pale Snake be all right?”
“Yes, baby. He’s just being sad, that’s all.”
“He’s not a bad man, Mama. I can feel it.”
“I know. You sleep now.”
When Silver Water had rolled over and hugged her blanket around her, Star Shell went back to the fire and seated herself across from Pale Snake. Lost in thought, she picked up a broken branch and poked it at the coals, slowly burning it away. As the end would catch fire, she’d twist it in the dirt to put it out, then place it back in the fire again.