Shame tightened some of the younger listeners’ faces. Murmurs eddied around the fire. Catchstraw saw his chance. In a ringing voice, he said, “I had a Dream!”
Somebody laughed. Who would have dared? Catchstraw peered out beyond the glare of the fire. Horseweed.
The boy crouched behind Sumac. Balsam knelt beside him, whispering in his brother’s ear.
Catchstraw drew himself up to his full height and shouted, “Mammoth Above came to me! I was sleeping under that fir tree over there, and the Dream came upon me in a roar like the wings of the Thunderbeings!”
“So what did she say, Catchstraw?” Horseweed taunted.
A little girl snickered, then quickly put a hand over her mouth to try to hide her identity. Several adults joined in, chuckling.
“Listen to me!” Catchstraw ordered. “Mammoth Above said that her children killed themselves out of anger. Anger at Sunchaser! Not because he can’t get to the Land of the Dead, but because he won’t even try. He’s given up! He refuses to talk to Mammoth Above.”
“Why would he do that?” Horseweed challenged. “Mammoth Above is his Spirit Helper. Without her, he’s lost.”
“And so are we all, boy. That’s the point. Sunchaser admitted today that he’s lost! We have to find a new Dreamer to
go to the Land of the Dead. And quickly, before it’s too late. Before all the mammoths have disappeared from the world!”
“Just who did you have in mind as the new Dreamer, Catchstraw?” Balsam asked in mock seriousness. “You?”
Catchstraw’s mouth gaped. “You brat! How dare you?”
“This is silly,” Horseweed said and got to his feet. “Sunchaser is the only Dreamer we know who can get to the Land of the Dead. Have you ever been there, Catchstraw?”
When Catchstraw hesitated, laughter broke out anew. A few people got up in disgust and left the gathering.
“No, I haven’t!” Catchstraw answered swiftly. “And you know why? I copied that maze that Sunchaser has on his square of deer hide And it leads nowhere! I’m telling you the truth. He claims that anyone can follow it to get to the Land of the Dead. Have any of you been able to? Who? Shout out your name.”
Silence engulfed the crowd. Even the inner circle of elders appeared to be pondering his argument. Some of the people who had been walking away stopped to listen.
“Bah!” Dizzy Seal shouted. “How many have tried? Oh, yes, we’re all content to Dance and Sing for the mammoths’ return, but how many of us have actually attempted to find our way through the maze?” He glared around the gathering. “Yes, just as I thought. Sunchaser keeps telling us he needs our help. But as long as we believe that he can get through, we don’t think we have to. We can all sit back, knowing that he’s doing the hard work! Well, I for one am not willing to condemn him until I’ve tried it myself.”
“Go ahead!” Catchstraw yelled. “Try. I’ll loan you my copy of the maze.” Just as soon as I can draw one up-and without the changes I made. “Then come back and tell us, Dizzy Seal. Tell us if you could get through! I promise you’ll find that it leads…”
His words were consumed by the conversation that flared up when Oxbalm rose. Oxbalm looked small and feeble in the light of the flames, holding his elk hide over his old shoulders. He raised a hand for silence. All eyes focused on him. “This
“talk of Sunchaser is meaningless,” he said. “What we must think about now is our village. The Power is gone from this place. Broken. Scattered to the winds. We must move! Where should we go to rebuild?”
Sumac rose and slipped her arm around Oxbalm’s waist. Then they walked away together, toward their robes in the forest. The entire gathering began to disperse, leaving Catchstraw standing almost alone in the windswept plaza.
Only old woman Yucca Thorn came up to him. Her ancient face had pinched into a thousand lines. She gripped his forearm tightly and whispered, “I believe you. Sunchaser is no Dreamer. Not now. Maybe he never has been. I never believed the part about the maze. I will begin talking to people, and listening to them. I don’t care what the other sea clans do, but I think it’s time that we had a new spiritual leader for this village.”
Moonlight washed the oak forest as Kestrel hiked northward up the slope toward Buffalo Bird’s camp. She panted. Buffalo Bird had kept her moving at a fast walk for over two hands of time. She could see his big hide lodge on the top of the hill, where four young men stood before a fire, their faces glowing orange in the reflected flames, their laughter raucous in the stillness.