People of the Sea(43)
“Then who could it be? Sunchaser?” “No, don’t you remember? We saw him last winter when he came to visit Grandfather. His hair was as black as obsidian. And anyway, he’s supposed to be at Brushnut Village.”
Balsam suddenly gasped and blurted, “What’s that? Look at it!”
Horseweed spun again and saw a mottled pink-and-black creature skulking through the brush that ringed the base of the talus slope. Eyes glittered. “Great Mous! I—I don’t know. What kind of animal is pink and black?”
“Maybe it’s a … a ghost.” Balsam dropped his young voice to a hoarse whisper. “You know what old Catchstraw says about the Spirits that live here around the Dream Cave. I’ll bet that’s what it is, a ghost!”
“A pink ghost?”
“Why not? Ghosts can look like whatever they want to.”
Horseweed’s eyes narrowed as he gripped his atlatl more tightly. Balsam grabbed his brother’s arm hard and let out a yip when the “ghost” loped out of the brush and peered curiously at them, one paw lifted. Horseweed said, “Let go of me. It’s a dog! A mostly hairless, ugly dog. That’s all!”
Handfuls of fur were missing from its sides and head. Horseweed frowned back at the cave. “We’d better worry
about that man. I don’t know who he is, but he shouldn’t be up there. Nobody’s allowed in the cave except a Dreamer. Mother Ocean could turn against us, cause a tidal wave, or…” his eyes widened “… or kill all the mammoths! Maybe he’s the cause of the disaster. We’d better—”
A rich, deep voice rose from the cave and echoed down through the meadow. “Who are you, boys? Why are you here?”
Balsam boldly strode by Horseweed and out into the center of the meadow. The new spring grasses rose to his knees. He shouted, “Who are you? What are you doing up there? Get out. You’re not supposed to be in there!”
The stranger lowered his outspread arms and gazed down at them. Dressed in a fine leather shirt covered with seashells, he looked important, like a visiting chief from the northern clans. “Really? Who says?”
Horseweed wet his lips nervously and edged up beside Balsam. He shouted, “Don’t you know that’s a Dream Cave? You’d better leave … before old Catchstraw finds you and turns you into a liverwort, or a leech!”
“Catchstraw turn someone into a leech? Now there is a frightening fate indeed!” The stranger vented a low, closed mouth laugh.
Horseweed’s eyes narrowed. “What happened to the herd of deer that used to graze here?”
“You mean the two does, the yearling fawn and that three point buck?”
“That’s them. Where are they?”
“A man gets hungry now and then!”
Balsam turned to look in horror at Horseweed. “He slaughtered sacred deer? And ate them? He’s the bravest man alive.”
Horseweed cupped a hand to his mouth and yelled, “Where’s the pile of wood that used to be down here? It was a big pile. Took half a moon to collect and stack.”
“You didn’t think I ate those deer raw, did you?”
“What a stinking skunk!” Balsam shrilled. Red splotched his cheeks. “Get down out of there before we come up after you!”
“Come up after me?” The stranger laughed. “Are the two of you planning to drag me bodily from this cave? What if I don’t want to go?”
“We’ll show you! Get out of that cave or… or we’ll kill you!”
The man laughed so hard that Balsam groaned and stamped his feet in anger.
“Yes! We will!”, Horseweed yelled as he shook his darts in defiance.
“Go home, boys. I don’t have the freedom to play today. I’m busy.”
That made them both pause. Balsam scratched behind his left ear and looked uneasy, while Horseweed fiddled with his atlatl. He nocked and unnocked a dart. He’d Belched the long, polished willow shaft with beautiful, black magpie feathers that shone greenish when the sunlight struck them just right.
“You know,” Balsam said, “one of us could distract him while the other ran up that deer trail and skewered him with a dart.”
The stranger apparently heard Balsam’s comment. He calmly unlaced his new deer hide pants, thumped his male organ as if to get it going and urinated off the lip of the Dream Cave. The stream broke into droplets as it fell, shimmering, into the meadow below. It splashed only a body’s length from Horse weed’s feet. He glared at the yellow sparkles on the grass.
Indignant, Balsam asked Horseweed, “What do you think that mangy dog will do? Do you think he’ll attack the man that tries to climb the deer trail?” In unison, both boys turned to appraise the animal. The dog had sat down on its haunches, one un furred ear pricked, eyes steady upon them. “Might,” Horseweed granted. “But I’ll dart it in the heart before it gets its jaws around your throat. Don’t worry.”