“Really?” Oxbalm countered. “She wants us closer to Above-Old-Man and farther away from Mother Ocean? Does Mammoth Above realize that we won’t find many fish up there? Oh, there are a few in the streams and ponds, but nothing like the wealth of the tidal pools we have here. And clear up there, how can we scramble to the boats and paddle out to hunt sea lions and otters? Do the mussels grow better up there on the rocks?”
Catchstraw raised a fist and bellowed, “She thinks we’ve become too dependent upon Mother Ocean. Mammoth Above wants us to go out and …” he shrugged “.. . challenge ourselves more, for her sake.”
“I see,” Oxbalm responded quietly, a certain glint in his eyes.
Horseweed frowned. He’d seen that glint before and knew that it boded ill for all concerned.
Oxbalm smiled. “And does Mammoth Above realize that water in the foothills gets scarcer with every cycle? Why, down here, on the shore, we barely notice the summer droughts. But up there, it will be much different.”
“Mammoth Above knows that very well.”
“So, you think she wants to make life harder for us. Why? Is she punishing us, Catchstraw?”
As though proud he’d thought of it, Catchstraw said, “Yes, she is. And do you know why?”
“I have the unfortunate feeling that I do.”
Horseweed scowled at Catchstraw. If only Sunchaser were here to defend himself, you’d never be brave enough to say bad things about him, you false Dreamer.
“Well, good,” Catchstraw responded. His tone had an edge of silken malice. “Because you’re the one who’s always so
quick to jump on Sunchaser’s side. No matter what he does,
you always support him. Mammoth Above has abandoned Sunchaser, but he still has Oxbalm to fight his battles for him. Don’t you feel a little like a traitor, Oxbalm? Mammoth Above has done so much for us, and you—”
“Tell me something, Catchstraw,” Oxbalm interrupted. He propped his hands on his hips. “Is there anything that isn’t Sunchaser’s fault? Hmm? I’d be interested to know. I mean, how about the diseases in the mountains? Are they Sunchaser’s fault? How about the peak in the north that just started steaming again? Did Sunchaser do that, too?”
“Oh, stop this, Oxbalm,” Yucca Thorn chastised. She limped forward on crackling knees to stand at Catchstraw’s side, her ancient face pinched into an ugly expression. “If that’s what Mammoth Above wants, why are we standing here?”
“Is that what Mammoth Above wants?” Oxbalm asked. “How do we know?”
Catchstraw straightened to his full height. Maidenhair came up behind Yucca Thorn, silently adding her support, waiting. “Because I just told you, that’s how. Are you going to defy Mammoth Above’s instructions?”
“Never.” Oxbalm shook his head. “I am a devout man. If that’s where Mammoth Above says we should make our new camp, that’s where we will make it.”
“Well.” Catchstraw flicked his hand. His expression had gone sour and a touch uncertain. His eyes darted around uncomfortably. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
Oxbalm bowed, a bow so deep that his head almost touched his knees. The act was slowly, perfectly, done… and as full . of irreverence as urinating on the moccasins of the lead Dancer at a ceremonial.
When he straightened, Oxbalm nodded pleasantly. “I guess you’re right, Catchstraw. We’d best get on with it. Grandson?” Oxbalm put a hand on Horseweed’s shoulder. Horse weed flinched. The anger and resentment in those old eyes struck him like a fist in the stomach.
“Yes, Grandfather?”
“We will need someone to scout ahead for us. On the beach, we can see, but on the deep forest trails, there are many predators that hide and watch. We wouldn’t want a saber-toothed cat or a lion to drop on us from the trees. And right up there where Catchstraw wants us to camp,” he indicated the place with his chin, “is where the short-faced bears used to make their dens. I haven’t seen any bears in moons, but we don’t want any surprises.” He slapped Horseweed on the shoulder. “Why don’t you pick two more young men to run ahead with you? Then we’ll talk about which trail to take.”
Horseweed glanced around. A smug grin curved Catch straw’s lips. “Yes, Grandfather,” Horseweed said obediently. But as he whirled and trotted back to find Balsam and his cousin Iceclaw, Horseweed shook his head anxiously. The Otter Clan had always been sea people. They knew nothing about how to live in the mountains.
He glowered at Catchstraw as he passed, and the old man chuckled disdainfully. Horseweed clamped his jaw. He vaguely understood Oxbalm’s plan—his grandfather wanted people to find out for themselves what a fool Catchstraw was—but Horseweed hated to be sucked into the whirlpool with Catchstraw’s followers. He liked the taste of salmon and otter. And he couldn’t even imagine life without abalone.