The Dying Tree by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spencer Ltd
Published: 1956-05-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

The initiation was over and Bent Feather was as proud as only a father can be. His eldest son, Grave Eagle, had passed the rigorous tests and was now in his full manhood. Soon he would ride his first warpath and kill his first enemy. Then he would be a true warrior with his foot on the path to greatness. Bent Feather smiled as he stared at his son, his mind, like that of all fathers anywhere, painting the future for his boy.

"It is good," he said in his deep voice. "I have a horse which shall be yours, a bow made from the finest horn and arrows feathered from an eagle. Also there is a rifle which I took from a white man. You shall not ride the warpath with empty hands."

"I thank Bent Feather," said Grave Eagle for, now that he was a man, he was no longer a child and did not speak as a child. He was a warrior, equal to the man who had given him birth and addressed him as such.

"It will be my pleasure for you to ride at my side," said Bent Feather. "Together we shall rise against our enemies and many will be the scalps hanging from the village poles. Say that it is your wish also, Grave Eagle, so that my heart maybe glad."

"It is my wish," said Grave Eagle. He turned as the Shaman came towards them. Lame Horse was not in his regalia, he had discarded it after the initiation during which he had tested the young men for their fitness for manhood. Some had failed and these would have to wait another year until the time of the next testing. Until that time they would be regarded as children, unable to marry, unable to ride the warpath or wear warpaint. All would pass the next time for they would be helped by the Shaman and their knowledge of what was to come. Sometimes, though not often, the Shaman gave a numbing drink to those who had big spirits but weak bodies and so helped them more than others. For it was not good that a man should be shamed or his parents cast down.

"Grave Eagle will make a great warrior," said the Shaman resting his hand on the young warrior's shoulder. "I see the spirits hover above his head ready to strengthen his arm and to protect him from his enemies. You should be proud of such a son, Bent Feather. The grown tree should not rob the sapling of the sun. It should offer shade if the sun grows too hot but not take the sun away."

"Grave Eagle is a man and shall ride a man's path," said Bent Feather. "I shall not stand in his sun but be ready to call on his shade."

"You speak with a straight tongue." Lame Horse was pleased at the way Bent Feather had turned his words. Little to fear from this warrior, he would not try to gain coup at the expense of his son.

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