“That’s a lot of effort.” Blue Jar looked pensive as she scratched behind her ear. “You have to keep it hot so it doesn’t spoil. Sometimes it can be weeks between visits by Traders.
That’s a lot of wood to collect, and someone must tend the fire all the time.” She glanced slyly at Grandmother. “And my husband already has enough to do.”
Many Turtles laughed, sneaking a glance at Grandmother from the corner of his eye.
“But you could lay a stack of firewood in the shelter,” Red Dye suggested. “And hang bags of precooked patties from the walls. Maybe smoke them so the mold doesn’t grow on them.” “I think that just a hut would be enough,” Otter said. “Traders would be more than willing to walk up the hill in search of something to eat. Not only that, they’d want to talk, to hear the news, and to sit around a cheerful fire with other people. Make them feel good, and welcome, and they’ll be more likely to give you gifts.”
Blue Jar looked at her sister. “It might be worth it to make some heavy bags … the sturdy kind Traders like to carry. And we might keep some extra pottery jars handy. You know, things that wear out or get broken. Things Traders need.” Grandmother cocked her head thoughtfully. “This will be good for us. As we get more visitors, we’ll learn. See what they need … and do our best to fill that need.”
“I agree, Grandmother.” Otter looked around, meeting his relatives’ eyes. “If this is done correctly, you could lure most of the Traders to stop here. We are located at the right place on the river. The Deena villages are a day’s travel to the north.
Yellow Cliffs is a day to the south. Because of the bluff, the White Shell clan grounds are close to the river—not a long walk from where a Trader would have to leave his goods. This is a good place to stop.”
“We shall consider it,” Grandmother stated, making a sign with her hand that the subject was closed for the moment.
“What is the news here?” Otter resettled himself so the fire would dry his left side.
“Something-happened over at the City of the Dead,” Grandmother told him soberly. All eyes immediately turned on the old woman. “We’re not sure what. A young man from the Broken Mussel Clan—his name was Four Yellow Feathers—passed through the day before the marriage. It appears that the Dreamer, Green Spider, is dead. Killed during the solstice.”
“What?” Many Turtles gasped, propriety forgotten as he stared wide-eyed at Grandmother.
Otter stiffened, his heart skipping a beat.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Blue Jar demanded.
Grandmother sat stolidly, her expression neutral as she continued.
‘ ‘ Four Yellow Feathers arrived just before we were to cross the river for the marriage. He saw me here—alone. I, of course, took him for some well-wisher sent by old” Willow Thong. Thought he came bearing greetings, or a gift. Instead, he sat there where you are, Otter, lowered his eyes and said that Green Spider was dead.” She smacked her leathery, palms together.
“We had a marriage to attend to, so I said nothing.”
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.” Blue Jar’s eyes flashed.
“Why say anything?” Grandmother responded reasonably.
“If he’s dead, do you think worrying about it would bring him back? If it’s a rumor … why stir everyone up with it? Apparently, Four Yellow Feathers didn’t feel it important enough to paddle across and inform the Tall Cane Clan. Time will tell if it’s true or not.”
“Mother, in the future—”
Grandmother raised her hand, commanding as always. “Red Moccasins and Four Kills had a wonderful ceremony. Had I started spouting rumors, everyone would have spent the time muttering dire prediction’s and doing their best to turn the occasion into the end of the world.”
Otter slowly shook his head as Grandmother’s probing stare bored into him. Green Spider dead? What did it mean?
Many Turtles’ lips quivered for a moment. “How … how did he die? Does anyone know?”
Only the popping of the fire broke the silence.
Grandmother sighed, and for a moment she stared vacantly, seeing something in her head. She seemed to come to herself again, properly addressing the answer to Blue . instead of to Many Turtles. “According to the rumor, it happened on the winter solstice … just at the noontime beginning of the Feast of the Dead. As the food was being laid out, a bolt of lightning struck the temple. Green Spider and the Clan Elders were there.
Apparently Green Spider was seeking some sort of Power. The Clan Elders were watching over him. They missed the ceremonies, as a matter of fact.