People of the Fire by W. Michael Gear

Author:W. Michael Gear
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Tags: Native American & Aboriginal, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9781466817913
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2009-11-02T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Hungry Bull helped Two Smokes down a steep place, looking around the new shelter. The old berdache led them down a twisting trail as a gentle dusting of snow settled about them, whitening shoulders, heads, and packs. A scattering of juniper mixed with limber pine along the drainages while the south-facing slopes had a gray look from bitterbrush, currants, and serviceberry. Deer tracks had stippled the trail they walked.

Across from them, the opposite side of the canyon looked cool and somber as the conical tips of fir rose dark green above snarled black timber. At the crest, however, broad meadows appeared to stretch up into the grayish haze of falling snowflakes and cloud.

"Elk winter up there," Two Smokes said, gesturing toward the high meadows. "Good place to hunt in the deep cold."

"Good camp all around," Rattling Hooves agreed. "Doesn't look like anyone camped here for a long time."

"Maybe." Two Smokes shrugged. "Last time I stayed here was as a young man. Five Falls came here with his cousin and we spent the winter. The camp was pretty good, but the mice and packrats almost drove us crazy that year."

"But did you come this late?" Rattling Hooves asked, twisting her body under the tumpline so she could see him.

"Earlier." Two Smokes pointed up the canyon. "But we did the hard work then. We built a sheep trap up there. I don't think it would take much to fix it up. We've got the new net Elk Charm and I have been working on. Once we kill some bighorns, we'll have hides and meat for a while until the elk come down. Perhaps Hungry Bull, here, and Three Toes and Black Crow can kill a deer or two. From those hides we can make snares for elk."

"Whoa!" Black Crow cried. He'd been listening with his head cocked, trying to pick up the Anit'ah words. "Did he say snare an elk?"

Hungry Bull chuckled. "Hunting here is different. Come, let's find this rock shelter." He winked at Rattling Hooves. "Maybe you can teach me how to snare elk and hunt sheep?"

She grinned at him before returning her concentration to the trail. "I think you'll learn. But come on, it's starting to get dark. Better to be off this loose slope before we can't see our feet."

Tall stands of giant wild rye—brown under the hand of winter—hid the mouth of the rock overhang. The place looked to be ten paces in length and Hungry Bull found it extended back another three paces once he'd pushed through the s^ of grass. In the failing light he could barely make out the litter of a large packrat nest in the back corner where the floor met the rock.

"You could be right about the packrats."

"What we don't drive off, I'll eat." Rattling Hooves sighed as she swung the pack off her back and rubbed her arms. "Hey, great hunter of the Short Buffalo People, why don't you make us a fire?"

Three Toes helped Two Smokes up the slope and into the dark shelter.

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