People of the Wolf(173)

Ice Fire laughed. "They'll think of something."

One Who Cries turned the point and shook his head. "Too much binding."

Ice Fire cocked his head, trying to take his thoughts off the activities in the lodge behind him. "How about driving two flakes off from the base forward? You know, like grooves."

One Who Cries studied the base of the point. A skeptical look on his weather-beaten face, he pulled his sandstone from

his pouch and between grinding and some initial flaking, prepared two special platforms.

"Here goes." His tongue crept out the side of his mouth as he frowned in concentration. Like lightning, he tapped the baton across the platform, a long thinning flake snapping out of the point base.

Ice Fire beamed as One Who Cries turned the colorful stone over. He eyed the point again and grinned, driving the second flake from the other side.

"Hey!" Singing Wolf exploded. "Now, cut that out! Every time I sit down you're—"

"Oh, hush! 'Cut it out ... Cut it out.' That's all I ever hear from you. Every time I start doing a little flint knapping, you're howling about the flakes being all over! When was the last time you got stuck with one of my—"

"How about the point?" Ice Fire asked from the side.

One Who Cries sheepishly mumbled, "Oh, yeah."

He lifted it. The length of a man's hand, it gleamed in the sun, flake scars rippling to catch the light. It was made from red-banded caramel-colored chert, its parallel sides ending in a keen point. The base was concave below the new flake scar. One Who Cries turned it over.

"It worked," One Who Cries said breathlessly. "Look!" He grabbed the foreshaft from Singing Wolf's hand, fitting the fluted point into the binding. "That's it!"

Ice Fire and Singing Wolf leaned close, sighs of admiration escaping their lips.

"You know," Ice Fire mused. "That's almost too pretty to throw into an animal."

One Who Cries glowed.

Behind them, the voices of the women grew louder. Ice Fire stiffened. Even Singing Wolf—old veteran that he was-- cocked his head, eyes tense.

The squall of the child carried shrill in the still air.

Moments later, Broken Branch hobbled out of the tent, beaming a toothless smile through her wrinkles.

"A boy." She chuckled. "Ha-heeee! As if the Dreamer hadn't known!"

A curious feeling swelled in Ice Fire's chest. "A son for a son. Yes ..." For a moment, he twisted his hands nervously in his lap, thinking about Wolf Dreamer. They'd searched for

him that night after the fight, but had found no traces—not even tracks marred the snow.

But the wolves had howled triumphantly for days.

"And my wife? How's Dancing Fox?"

"Oh, fine. Just fine."

Broken Branch hobbled in front of Ice Fire, heading to the fire glowing a few feet away. She held the baby up to Father Sun, then passed him through the cleansing smoke of the fire four times.

"Listen, boy," Broken Branch ordered softly. "I'm going to tell you the greatest story of the People. You have to remember it so you can tell your sons and daughters and their sons and daughters. You're the center of the web, little one. Your brother, Wolf Dreamer, said so and he was the greatest Dreamer the People ever had. He knew. He knew . . .

"See? Do you?" Broken Branch lifted a withered arm and pointed out across the lush valley bursting with game. "Look there:

Built a big mountain of dirt.

Raised on sweat and hurt.

Rose so high over the river. Eating plants.

Bah! No spirit in that. Not like blood-filled liver.

Father of Waters, flows so rich ..."

Singing Wolf laughed softly, waggling a finger at Ice Fire. "See. I told you it would go all right. Dancing Fox is too tough to ... OUCH!"

"What's wrong now?" One Who Cries wondered, staring at his point.

"What's this?" Singing Wolf held out his hand. A red-banded yellow chert flake to match the one driven from One Who Cries' point stuck deeply into the meaty part of his palm.

Ice Fire started to laugh but a faint soft mewing came from the bundle in Broken Branch's arms and a strange feeling came over him. His chest tingled with hollowness.

He shook himself, but the feeling wouldn't let him go. Crossing his arms, he hugged himself tightly. His eyes were drawn to the valley in the distance. Thick green grasses waved beneath the gentle caress of Wind Woman. Mammoth lifted

his shaggy head, startled suddenly, as though he too saw the silvered shadow that bounded through the grass, bushy tail catching the glittering gold of dawn as it ran to touch noses with musk ox and caribou, mouse and buffalo.

Almost like a whisper in his mind, Ice Fire heard a beautiful voice say: "This is the land of the People ... I show you the way, man ... I show you the way ..."