Soft Rain by Cornelia Cornelissen

Author:Cornelia Cornelissen [Cornelissen, Cornelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-56825-0
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 1998-11-17T16:00:00+00:00

RATTLESNAKE SPRINGS

The days stayed warm. The steep roads seemed never-ending—tramping up a mountain and down to the next valley, wading across a stream, trudging up again. Soft Rain’s feet grew sore from stepping on stones she couldn’t avoid. Aunt Kee’s toes soon showed through the holes in her moccasins. Each evening they gathered wood and made a blazing campfire, for the nights grew cool. On the third day Mother was allowed to ride in a wagon while Aunt Kee and Soft Rain walked alongside it.

The next day Mother refused to ride. “I want to stay with my family,” she said. Soft Rain could tell the ride had been good for her, because her step was brisker and she looked stronger.

Late that day they heard a murmur coming from the Tsalagi ahead of them. As it grew louder Soft Rain asked, “What is happening?” But everyone was too excited to answer.

Aunt Kee saw the wide valley first. “The Hiwassee River,” she said, “and Rattlesnake Springs, alive with Tsalagi.”

Soft Rain drew a deep breath when she viewed the valley below. There were stockades, but they seemed to be empty. Smoke from hundreds of campfires rose to the sky. And thousands of Real People with their animals milled around the fires. From so far away, everything looked small and orderly. But as they approached, Soft Rain held tightly to Mother and Aunt Kee. The crowd of people, animals, and wagons was overwhelming.

They walked about, arm in arm, looking for a familiar face. But no one greeted them or even looked their way. Around some fires, old ones sat quietly with heads bowed.

Many Tsalagi men walked or rode quickly past them. Then the young chief they knew saw them and stopped. “Make camp here,” he said, pointing to a fire no one was tending.

“Where are the men going?” Soft Rain asked.

“Hush, Soft Rain. You ask too many questions,” Mother cautioned.

“It’s all right. How else will she know? Soon everyone will be told. A final council is meeting—to decide on laws for our new home,” he explained. “We have divided into groups. Tsalagi men and chiefs, such as myself, have already been appointed as officers to conduct everyone safely. In a few days the first group will start westward. We will all leave soon.”

“Could my father be one of the men at the council meeting?” Soft Rain asked. “I want to go look for him.”

The chief shook his head. “It’s too crowded. What is your name, child? While I’m there, I will look for your father.”

“I am Soft Rain.”

“I’ll remember,” the chief said before he rode away.

The air grew thick with the smoke from the many fires. Soft Rain welcomed the warmth of their own, and she ate the corn bread and meat portion she was given, though her mouth watered for fresh fruit and vegetables. Despite the summer drought, wouldn’t Father have had a good crop? He always did.

Without thinking, she walked slowly in the direction the chief had gone. “Keep our fire in sight or you may get lost,” Mother called to her.

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