People of the Sea(179)
They worked in silence until they’d knocked down and stripped four of the trees. Then Horseweed said, “That will be enough. We’ll use the two longest poles for the sides. Then we’ll snap the two smaller trees into segments and lash them to the side poles to make six inner rungs.”
She nodded and wet her full lips. “Good. Let’s hurry. Give me the small ends. You take the big.” As he gathered the saplings, Horseweed said, “Your husband is waiting for you on the trail ahead. Do you know that?” “Yes. I—I know.”
“You don’t have to go into camp with me if you don’t want to. I can take Sunchaser by myself. In fact, if I were you, I’d find a place in the forest to hide. My grandfather is the chief of Otter Clan Village. He gave your husband and the Blackwater Draw men until the day after tomorrow to wait for you. Then they must leave. It will be safer for you to come in after they’re gone.”
She took a deep breath. “Please, I don’t want to think about that yet.” More softly, she added, “When we get closer to the village… I’ll decide.”
Horseweed turned his attention to the task at hand, retracing the path toward the pile of deadfall. The resignation in her voice struck him hard. Glancing back, he noted the set of her shoulders, the way she walked with bowed head.
Horseweed turned away. Helper had lain down by Sunchaser’s side and propped his muzzle on Sunchaser’s shoulder.
As they lowered the poles, Horseweed said, “The decision is yours, of course, but you should know that my grandmother is on your side. She—”
“Your grandmother?” the woman asked. “Who is she? What does she know of me?”
“Her name is Sumac. She is the matron of our clan. I don’t know how much she knows about you. Only what your husband and the Blackwater Draw men have told her.”
“Then … you’re Oxbalm’s grandson?”
“Yes,” he answered proudly. “How do you know of my grandfather?”
“Sunchaser told me about him. He has great respect for Oxbalm. What’s your name?”
“Horseweed.”
“So, Horseweed,” she said through a long exhalation, “what have my husband and these other men told the Otter Clan about me?”
Horseweed shrugged as he picked up one of the smaller poles, studying its shape in the darkness. “Your husband has accused you of incest, and he said that you claim to be related to our clan. Harrier says you killed his younger brother, Buffalo Bird. Both said you had a baby with you.”
The woman’s jaw quivered before she clamped it still. “So you know my name.”
“They said it was Kestrel.”
She stared at the scattered triangles of silver light that lit the forest floor. “Yes. That’s right.”
Horseweed placed the pole just so, its end on one of the fallen logs, and jumped on the middle of it, cracking it in two. “I’ll need those strips of leather,” he said, “to lash on the rungs.”
She tenderly ran her fingers over the long fringes that made up the hem of Sunchaser’s bloody shirt, then deftly cut off several of them. She did it reverently, as if each
were a ceremonial object, specially blessed by the Spirits. And perhaps they had been at’ that. Horseweed couldn’t count the number of sacred Songs he’d heard Sunchaser Sing to Mammoth Above while he’d worn that shirt. He stood awkwardly, feeling guilty that she had to savage that shirt for a travois.
She handed his knife back. “I’ll tie on the three lower rungs if you’ll tie the top ones.”
“All right.”
He took six of the strips of hide from her and laid the side poles out, forming a steep angle. Then he placed the rungs and lashed them securely, making certain that the top rung was wide enough for his hips. Kestrel triple-wrapped the ends of the bottom rungs before she knotted the hide strips.
“Don’t you want to know why my grandmother is on your side?” Horseweed asked as he rose and dragged the finished travois over beside Sunchaser’s tall body.
Kestrel walked around Horseweed and very gently rolled Sunchaser onto his side. “Push the travois beneath him,” she instructed.
When Horseweed had the litter positioned, she rolled Sunchaser to his back again, suspended over five of the rungs. His arms flopped lifelessly. She carefully bent his long legs so they wouldn’t drag on the ground. Rising, she unlaced the small pack from around her waist and placed it beneath Sunchaser’s head as a pillow. “He looks so pale,” she murmured.
“He’ll live. I’m sure of it. We just have to get him to my grandmother. Sumac will take good care of him.”