Lolna was clearly related to Pela. She had the same dark almond eyes and brownish hair, the same round face and straight nose, her hair a lighter brown worn in a ponytail. She concentrated on her cooking. Ghaf had a thoughtful expression on his face as he licked the pad on his left thumb and studied his wife.
“Something wrong?” asked Gordon.
Ghaf shrugged, wiggled a finger at Gordon, and shrugged again. “It is life.” He continued studying his wife.
More adults and children entered. There were pea, bean, and mushroom growers, herb gatherers, herdsmen, fishers, chicken and duck growers, sod cutters, muckers, mat weavers, and even two men who were competitors of Pela’s in the local garment trade. There was, of course, the entire guild of bead cutters and casters from the local clans, some even from Yellow Claw and Black Shoulders lands far south, Big Tree and Cleft Mountain in the west. The bead sign makers and their families wore their finest necklaces, bracelets, and beadwork. Deals for beads, materials, and tools were being made against the circular wall, outside the tiers.
At the sound of a wooden drum struck twice, the room silenced, some of those still standing took places in the tiers, and all eyes turned toward Ta Avi. The young man stood and with a strong voice expressed his desire to live as a man among men, seeking the wisdom of those willing to share it. He nodded toward Ghaf and resumed his seat upon the top tier.
The hunter licked his left thumb, lowered his hand, and said to all, “Manhood is not the power, joy, and magic it seems to the boy. Nor is manhood the pain, disappointment, and dreary burden it seems to the man.”
He received grunts of approval for his words from around the circles, and Ta Avi Beadsigns studied upon the words, nodded, and looked at a Gifted One with gray streaked black hair and a much grayer beard. He was a fisher named Yoliv. The man licked the pad of his left thumb and said, “Tomorrow is full of questions. A father makes children early and often against life’s uncertainties. Keep love warm and generous when you’re young. There is time enough for sleep and sore backs after the gray and the true love come.”
Yoliv received laughter and grunts of approval for his words from around the circles, and Ta Avi Beadsigns studied upon the words, nodded, and looked at Gordon. All eyes turned in Gordon’s direction and he returned the looks, surprised that he, a stranger, had been invited to contribute wisdom of his own. After a moment he smiled as he remembered a story he had heard from Hosteen Ahiga.
“One day a boy came to a very wise man and said to him, ‘Old man, I am confused. I do not know if I am ready to become a man. There are so many things I do not know.’ The old man nodded and said, ‘Confusion marks you as a man. Back when you thought you had all the answers you were still a boy.’”
Gordon received substantial grunts of approval for his words from around the circles, and Ta Avi studied upon the words and nodded, and nodded again, but with a smile.
Late that night, high above the village on the men’s ledge, Gordon, Ta Avi, Ghaf and a few of the other gifted gathered before fires, ate, huddled beneath furs, told stories, offered advice, and answered Ta Avi’s questions about manhood, women, marriage, trade, child rearing, the gods, and the hunt while they awaited Ekav’s appearance above the eastern horizon. It had long ago been that each boy entering manhood would have to single-hunt and kill a great bear, but Wuja had passed along that Walking Man and Walking Woman’s descendents had been successful, far outnumbering his own. Bear killing as a rite, he said, was for a time when all men were needed for the hunt. The Great White Bear charged each livelihood other than hunters to establish its own rite for manhood. For Ta Avi Beadsigns it was to contribute something new to the craft of bead making. He showed the gifted men his contribution. With fingers burned from drops of molten glass, Ta Avi showed the gifted his beautiful necklace of red glass beads veined with gold, glass and metal fused together, no two exactly alike. “I have done this with yellow glass, green, and blue, as well.”
All of the gifted, including Gordon, placed orders for Ta Avi’s new beads. It was judged by the gifted on the ledge that night that Ta Avi had “slain his bear.”
The temperature dropped sharply, there were three fires against the cold, Ta Avi excused the gifted who needed to seek shelter, and soon only Ghaf, Gordon, and the bead maker’s son looked out over the village toward Quona, the moon, as it illuminated the glimmering white tower of distant Black Mountain.
“You are hunter,” Ghaf said to Gordon, holding a finger to the corner of his right eye.
“I have been hunter of a kind.” Gordon shifted his gaze from the mountain to Ghaf. “I was a warrior.”
“You hunted men,” Ghaf said as he studied Gordon’s face. “Now in your summers, God’n, what will you do? That Pela will not stand an idle man around the house.” All three of them laughed.
“Maybe hunter or fisher. What game do you hunt, Ghaf, along with winter bear?”
Ghaf gave him the word and drew the picture of a deer. “Deer is good. Antelope.”
“What was your most exciting hunt?” asked Ta Avi.
The hunter threw up his hands. “Ah!” Ghaf bent forward, smoothed the snow, and drew in the snow a picture of an elephant or wooly mammoth. He put in a very small hunter next to the creature. “Running Mountain they call it in Big Snake Country,” he said. “Long ago my father took me to join with Black Shoulders hunters down into the Big Snake, a land filled with angry stinging insects, birds that blind you with their colors, and serpents that crush and eat a man whole.” He licked his left thumb and shook his head. “We told hunt story at fires for many summers after that. Two Black Shoulders hunters trampled, running mountain bellow like thunderstorm. My father, Ijev Ni, brought down mountain.” He grinned. “His son Ghaf got in a poke or two with his spear. So much meat we shared with everyone. Black Shoulders People keep tusks for carving and medicine, bones for building. They show us how to cut and dry meat for keeping. We pack five strong horses with dried meat to bring back to village, more on our own horses. No one hungry that winter.” He grinned widely showing a healthy set of teeth. “Best hunt.”
Ghaf leaned forward, put two more sticks on the fire, checked to his left and saw Ta Avi yawning. “Big day for Kom’s young man.” He held his right hand, palm open toward Ta Avi. “May Ta Avi’s way always be clear, woman always loving, children healthy and respectful, and you deserving of it all.”
The new man nodded his thanks and said, “May you always have hunter’s eyes, Ghaf, and some of my years for your gifts to me and to the clan,” answered Ta Avi.
Both the hunter and the bead maker pulled their furs about themselves, leaned back against the cliff face, and closed their eyes to sleep. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire.
Gordon tucked his fur around his legs, put another fur around his shoulders, pulled his hat down over his ears, leaned back against the cliff face, and looked at the moonlight reflected from Black Mountain. He pulled over his knapsack, held it between his knees, reached in, reset the shockcomb, and checked the charge. Eighty-eight percent. On the locater he could see the dim reflection of the readout, but there wasn’t any point in looking at it. He already knew how much time was left. He closed the bag, moved it close to the fire to recharge the instruments, then leaned back and looked to the shadows.
He saw the reflection of a pair of yellow eyes far to his right and turned his head a bit more. The eyes came closer, the dark shape of the thing carrying them outlined by the reflection of the fire on the red cliff behind it. “Wolves are Coyote People,” he said to the creature. “Welcome, Sister.” There was meat next to the fire and Gordon reached out and picked up a piece with a bone in it. He was going to throw it to the animal at first, but instead he held it out. “I came a long way to feed you my dinner, Sister.”