People of the Earth (17 page)

 
          
 
"Have you had these Dreams all your
life?"

 
          
 
“Yes, even as a little girl."

 
          
 
"And what did your mother think?"

 
          
 
“Oh, you know Bright Moon. She didn't care as
long as I got everything done and helped her with the—"

 
          
 
“No, I mean your real mother, your Earth
People mother. What did she think?"

 
          
 
White Ash licked her lips, nervously rubbing
her hands before she picked up the hot stew and sipped it. “I remember that she
didn't like it. It frightened her. Her name was Owl-clover, and my
grandmother's name was Green Fire. I remember that Green Fire used to talk
about how her father had been witched. She hated Power, worried that it would
be used against her. I think she waited for it to actually happen. Whenever I'd
have a Dream—like hearing the animals talk—
Owlclover
would try to frighten me. She used to tell me that First Man would punish me if
I didn't stop playing with Power.''

 
          
 
“Who is this First Man?"

 
          
 
"The Earth People believe that after the
Creator made the world, he made First Man and Earth Mother to help human
beings. First Man led the people up through a hole in the ground to this world,
and Earth Mother taught them how to live good lives."

 
          
 
'This First Man sounds a little like our own
Thunderbird."

 
          
 
"Yes, pretty close."

 
          
 
"So maybe you came to us for a reason.
Because Thunderbird knew you could learn to Dream if you lived with us."

 
          
 
"Maybe. I remember I had a Dream the
night before Sage Ghost stole me. The big black wolf, he came, telling me to go
away, that other people would care for me."

 
          
 
"This
Owlclover
didn't take care of you?"

 
          
 
"Oh, she did. You see, the camp would
have been mine one day. The People of the Earth do it that way. Each clan has a
certain territory where the women have rights to hunt game and collect plants.
Each clan has more land than it needs, so that if . . . well, for example, if
the rice grass is burned in a range fire, the people know where to go for limber-pine
nuts. Or if the biscuit root doesn't come up one year, they know where to go to
dig for sego lily. If the buffalo don't come, then everyone knows where to go
to make a jackrabbit drive.

 
          
 
"The women know the country; they've
learned about it all their lives. They make the decisions about who will go
where and what they can take. Only the men marry out and go to different clans.
They go to their wives' territory, where they might not know where to find
things in a bad year. But the old women know. They know what the Spirits like
and how to make them gifts so the plants grow, or the animals come. Each Spirit
is different and has to be treated just right or it will be offended and scare
the buffalo and deer away, or make the berries grow small and shriveled. The
old women remember where the giant wild rye will produce in years of drought
and where you can dig for water when the streams dry up. Our souls are part of
the earth, tied to it. Born from it and returned to it when we die."

 
          
 
"Buried? Sounds horrible." Flying
Squirrel winced. "Be as good as driving a stake through your foot."

 
          
 
White Ash frowned, thinking. "I don't
know. It's just their way. They don't war with each other the way the Sun
People clans do. You fight among yourselves more than you fight with
others."

 
          
 
"Keeps us strong." Flying Squirrel
chuckled, then frowned. "But ... it's hard to prove it. The Broken Stones
and Black Point have pushed us way south . . . and I can promise you, this old
woman won't see the
Bug
River
again. The Broken Stones are being driven
by the Snow Bird clan, and so on. Someplace way up there in the north,
something's driving the people south. Why? What's the purpose?" Flying
Squirrel's eyes went misty. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it, girl? Power
controls the world. Why has it led us to this place? How come we're being worn
away like a sandbar in a flood?"

 
          
 
"And what has your way gotten you? The
Earth People are still there, strong and healthy. They don't war with their own
people. Which way is better?"

 
          
 
Flying Squirrel pursed weathered lips over
toothless gums. "Bear came from the high mountains to tell us how to live.
Bear made us the way we are. Should we turn against his Power?"

 
          
 
"Well, as I just said, among the Earth
People, territory is the responsibility of the women. According to the legend,
men used to war over who would hunt buffalo, deer, and elk in any given area.
They fought over who could collect from the root grounds, or harvest from the
limber pine, or gather the grass seeds. One year fighting broke out during the
summer Gathering, where all the families and clans came together to Trade and
Sing and conclude marriages. The next year, to avoid that happening again, a
huge council was called. For days the men argued about who would determine the
territorial boundaries for the clans. Finally a big fight began and many men
were killed, each wanting to be the leader of the People.

 
          
 
"Meanwhile, a woman, White Stone
Gleaming, had a Dream and called the women together. She told them of how she'd
gone to sleep in a high place, mourning the death of her husband in the
fighting. While she slept, a man of fire had appeared and told her how to stop
all the trouble. Under her leadership, the women drew boundaries. Then they
took their children and went home. The men looked around, realizing their wives
had left. Only White Stone Gleaming remained, and she told the Healers about
the Dream and how First Man had come to her with the way to end the war. She
told them that those who fought could kill each other until the last man died.
Meanwhile, the others could go home to their wives and have more children and
hunt as they always had. Most of the men did that, and the People lived happily
thereafter."

 
          
 
"But our way makes us strong!"

 
          
 
"And the way of the Earth People makes
them strong."

 
          
 
"Bah!" Flying Squirrel waved her
age-spotted hands. "They live off roots and grass, and their men are
bossed around by the women. When we face them, they'll wilt like summer leaves
in a frost!"

 
          
 
"Like the Wolf People east of here? They
kill the Sun clans in the most brutal ways they can ... as a lesson to us of
their strength. Or like the Sheep Hunters who live up in the
Red
Mountains
?"

 
          
 
Flying Squirrel glared at her. "You think
your Earth People will stand before the likes of Brave Man? Didn't he
single-handedly kill four of the Wolf People's warriors during that last raid?'

 
          
 
"Didn't they kill fourteen out of this
camp . . . and steal all the meat?" White Ash shook her head, pressing
slim hands against her temples. "What are we doing? It's a pointless
argument. It doesn't matter. The fighting would be terrible for everyone. Lots
of people would die and no one would win."

 
          
 
"The Sun People would win."

 
          
 
"Oh?"

 
          
 
Flying Squirrel nodded. "What you have to
remember is that we've been fighting among ourselves for a long time. Maybe the
White Clay are worn away like an old woman's teeth, but behind us come the
rest. I don't even know all the names of the clans up there, but all of them
are moving south. So what if your Earth People kill every last one of the White
Clay? Then they'll have to kill every last one of the Broken Stones, or the
Black Point, and then the Snow Birds, and the Hollow Flute, and the Wasps. And
it goes on."

 
          
 
“And they're all moving south?" White Ash
frowned into the fire, feeling angry.

 
          
 
"Yes, moving south. We've been doing that
for generations. I don't know where we all come from. Up north someplace. But
the clans keep coming, heading south."

 
          
 
"And the Earth People are right in their
way." The thought irritated her. Why? What business was it of hers if her
former people were swept away in the Sun People's migration?

 
          
 
Nevertheless, her stomach turned at the
thought of the empty lodges, of the corpses that would litter the trails.

 
          
 
Bad Belly waited uneasily after he had seated
himself across from his grandmother. Firelight flickered off Larkspur's
withered features and illuminated the parallel lines of rafter poles behind her
head. The yellow light danced off the soft furs that cushioned her, and
shivered the shadows of the bundles that hung from the smoke-grimed roof. The
air pressed against him, hot, stuffy, and weighted with the odors of the old
woman's lodge. Bad Belly's soul felt cramped.

 
          
 
She always makes me feel like I have to
justify my existence.
Vm
here, that's all. I didn't
ask to be born to her camp. It just happened. So why do I always have to feel
like it's my fault?

 
          
 
Black Hand sat to one side, carefully tamping
willow bark into his steatite stone pipe before using a twig to light it.

 
          
 
Larkspur smiled at Bad Belly, ancient eyes
half closed. "I want you to do something for me. You will, won't
you?"

 
          
 
Bad Belly wiggled, uncomfortable in both the
heat of her glinting stare and that of the large fire. Despite the blaze, the
lodge seemed darker than usual.

 
          
 
Just as she knew he would, he answered,
"Of course, Grandmother." She could be wise Spider who spins webs
around our lives—and I f m no more than a bug in her net.

 
          
 
"I need you to go over to Three Forks. I
want you to ask Green Fire what she needs from me for the coming Gathering. I
want you to check the trail and decide where we should camp on the way.
Remember my age when you pick the campsites. I can't outrun antelope
anymore."

 
          
 
"I understand."

 
          
 
She traced a bony finger along the edge of a
woven-grass bowl. "While you're there, listen to the stories. See if
anyone says anything about witching. There's talk in the camps. I don't want to
walk into the middle of a fight; we have too many important things to do this year.
Bitterbrush has to be married soon. If people are going to be preoccupied with
other concerns, I want to know in advance."