He turned to peer over his shoulder at the long line of people. The women brought up the rear, walking bent over because of the big packs they carried on their backs. Near the group of children, dogs trotted along happily, pulling travois piled high with household belongings. Men walked at the front of the procession with their weapons. Oxbalm and Horseweed had the lead. Everyone had worn his plainest clothing for the
journey. Everyone, that is, except Catchstraw. The Dreamer’s shirt glittered with beads, quill work and seashell adornments. He walked along beside old Dizzy Seal, talking incessantly, making extravagant gestures. Dizzy Seal looked bored.
Horseweed turned back around and frowned as he walked. Strange. After having talked to Sunchaser, Horseweed understood his grandfather’s disdain for Catchstraw. Catchstraw had no feeling of Power about him. His eyes didn’t glow the way Sunchaser’s did. He didn’t move with Sunchaser’s grace. In the days before the mammoths’ attack, Horseweed had spent a good deal of time studying Sunchaser, and the man had amazed him. He seemed to think about every step before he took it, every placement of his hand—as though taking care not to inadvertently hurt any of the tiny Spirits that filled the world around him.
“Well, I just don’t see why we have to travel so far!” Catchstraw’s harsh voice broke Horseweed’s reverie. Grudgingly, he turned to see what was going on.
With extreme politeness, Dizzy Seal responded, “I’m sure we’ll stop when Oxbalm finds the right place for us. These things take time. We’re not like the inland peoples. We’ve rarely needed to move. Deciding on a new village site requires great care.”
“Ha!” Catchstraw scoffed. “How do you think Oxbalm chose the last site? Eh? Do you remember, Dizzy Seal?” Catchstraw opened his arms wide, as if begging Brother Sky for rain. “It was twenty cycles ago, and he’d gotten tired of walking. He reared back, heaved his dart, and we stopped where it landed. Great care! I’m pleased it didn’t land in the ocean. We’d all have become relatives of the fishes and sprouted gills by now.” Oxbalm slitted his wise old eyes. Like an enraged bear, he bellowed, “If I hear any more talk like that, you’d better sprout gills, Catchstraw. And with a minnow’s speed!”
All the conversations that had been eddying through the procession died at once. The clan elders cupped their hands to their ears to hear better, and the women in the rear ran
to catch up. The heavy burdens on their backs bounced and swayed erratically.
“Are you threatening me, Oxbalm?” Catchstraw asked.
“I never threaten, Catchstraw. I make promises that I keep.”
Catchstraw’s brows drew down over his beaked nose. He stopped dead in his tracks, forcing the people behind him to halt as well. “Well, when are we going to stop, Oxbalm? We’re all tired. Surely you know that. We’ve been walking for seven days straight!”
“We stopped for two days when we had that strange snowstorm,” Horseweed corrected.
“Yes, strange,” Dizzy Seal said and shook his head. “But it’s been a strange cycle. So cold and wet. I wonder—”
“How would you know that we stopped for the storm, boy?” Catchstraw sneered at Horseweed. “You were off hunting the entire time we were in that camp.”
Horseweed started to reply but closed his mouth when Oxbalm balled his old hands into fists and raised them. The people went stone still. A flock of gulls swooped in from the ocean, scolding the procession with bellicose cries at seeing their territory invaded. They swooped so close to Horseweed’s face that he could feel the whoosh of wind as they passed, Oxbalm swatted at them angrily. “And my grandson brought in meat, didn’t he, Dreamerl What have you done for the people?”
“Well … I… You never ask me what I’ve Dreamed, Oxbalm. I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing for the people. I’ve been talking to Mammoth Above! That’s what!”
A few reverent whispers passed down the line.
Oxbalm rubbed the back of his neck. “Blessed Star People, again? Doesn’t she have anything better to do with her time?”
Horseweed tried to stifle it, but the snicker escaped his throat and came out a guffaw. Dizzy Seal bowed his head and smiled, but old Yucca Thorn scowled at Horseweed. His grandfather gave him a sharp glance.
Oxbalm said, “And did Mammoth Above tell you where we should make camp, Catchstraw?”
“As a matter of fact, she did.” He flung out a skinny arm and pointed toward the high foothills, two days’ walk away. “There. She said we should go up into the forest and make camp on a hilltop, so we can be closer to Above-Old-Man.”