I swung Esti on to my shoulder and she pulled my ears in delight. Kemen came up behind me with his share of the meat. Because he was a stranger he’d got a thin hind with a worm-eaten hide and very little fat – I’d noticed her lame leg when we stood at the lip of the corrie. Kemen only had a small share because he was new to the Hunt, not because he didn’t deserve any better. Kemen dumped his meat at Nekané’s feet. She couldn’t hide her astonishment! I almost doubled up laughing, and Esti grabbed my hair.
‘This family’s got Amets so it doesn’t really need me,’ Kemen said to Nekané. ‘He can do all the hunting you need without any help. But here I am, all the same.’
I didn’t yet realise why Nekané was so astonished, but I saw the gleam of satisfaction in her eye. That pleased me.
My wife’s father came out of the tent. I’d only been away five nights, but suddenly he seemed very old. He looked at our meat and smiled. ‘You could have done worse, Amets! It could have been even less!’
‘It would have been a great deal less.’ I took Kemen’s arm and pulled him forward. ‘But now there are two of us. He’ll hunt for us better than I can. At least he can’t do much worse!’
I’d seen my wife’s father give Kemen that piercing look before, sizing him up. Perhaps he wasn’t so old after all: perhaps he did still have something to say. For a heartbeat I was alarmed.
My wife’s father nodded at Kemen. ‘So! The names of your kin are to live among us, it seems. You were told to choose wisely: you’ve set about it pretty quickly, haven’t you?’
‘You were—’
My wife’s father laid his finger across his lips.
The word whipped round the Camp faster than the wind that Kemen had joined our family. So many women crowded round our hearth I could stand it no longer. ‘Come on,’ I said to Kemen. We strolled over to the Go-Betweens’ hearths. Men came and slapped us on the back and shook Kemen’s arms until he was dazed. The smell of cooking began to fill the air. The Sun climbed into the High Sun Sky and beamed into our clearing. Dogs gnawed noisily at deer legs, snarling at men and dogs who came too near. We felt drowsy after the long days and nights in Hunting Camp. There wasn’t anything much for men to do now except sleep, so that’s what we did.
When the Sun dipped behind the oaks we stirred ourselves. The feast was almost ready. We strolled back to our own hearths, but we’d barely reached them when angry shouts broke out from somewhere behind the Go-Betweens’ hearths. Itsaso came running over. ‘They’re fighting!’
‘Who?’ I asked idly. Men are always fighting at Gathering Camp. If this wasn’t about the meat it would be about some woman.
‘Hodei and Zigor! He hit him!’
‘What?’
‘I tell you – they’re at the Go-Betweens’ hearths – and – and – I saw – he hit him!’
We weren’t the only ones to rush to see what was happening. The whole Camp was gathering. Itsaso wriggled and pushed her way to the front, just below the mound. Kemen and I could see well enough over People’s heads from where we were. Someone had wakened the fires in the Go-Betweens’ hearths: they were filled with little licking flames from end to end.
We looked up through the wreathing smoke. Zigor and Hodei were circling one another like dogs waiting to spring. Nekané stood at the threshold of the Go-Betweens’ shelter, arms stretched out as if to bar the way. Aitor came shoving through the crowd. He rushed up the mound, leaped over the Go-Betweens’ fires and ran between Zigor and Hodei, pushing them apart. They turned on him in fury. Aitor shouted something back. After that they kept their voices low, but the air still quivered with their anger.
Aitor went over to Nekané. His head was close to hers. They talked. Zigor and Hodei stood far apart, watching them warily. Then Aitor took Nekané by the arm and led her over to the other two.
By now the children had drifted away, and some of the women had gone back to their cooking, but when Aitor called us the women came running back. No woman was going to miss a story like this!
Aitor spoke to us across the fire. ‘A girl was healed while we were at the Hunt. Osané was brought back from death. Someone had tried to kill her.’
A low muttering rose from the men. When I looked at the women’s faces they showed no surprise. I caught my wife’s father looking at Kemen and me. He seemed the least surprised of all.
‘It was one of the men standing here.’
We all glanced at each other.
‘That man knows who I’m talking about.’
When we looked at each other again we saw only our own question mirrored in each other’s eyes.
‘Soon the rest of you will know too,’ said Aitor. He pulled Nekané forward. ‘There’s more. This woman dared to use a Go-Between’s Drum! What should we do with her?’
‘Kill her!’
‘Stone her!’
‘Cast her out!’
If Nekané was frightened by the shouts and shaken fists she didn’t show it. Aitor held up his arms and the men were silent.
‘You’re all wrong,’ he said. ‘If the spirits had been angry they’d have killed her then and there. D’you think I didn’t know when she took my Drum? D’you think I couldn’t hear it when it called me? If you think as little of me as that, then it’s me you should cast out!’
That puzzled everyone into silence.
‘Osané’s soul was wandering far away,’ said Aitor. ‘The spirits of sickness had carried her close to death. Nekané followed her. She brought Osané back. My Drum showed me every step she took. This woman is Go-Between!’
I heard every man take in his breath at once.
‘I know because she took my Drum. Zigor knows because when Nekané followed Osané’s soul out of the world Zigor watched what happened. Hodei didn’t see any of this. Hodei, what do you say now?’
The unwillingness in Hodei’s voice was plain. ‘If you accept her, and Zigor insists on teaching her, no doubt we’ll soon find out if this is a gift or a curse! So, very well: let it unfold if it must, and we shall see. But there’s another matter.’
Hodei turned to the People and raised his voice. ‘Osané belongs to Edur. If anyone doubted whether Edur was a good hunter – and I don’t think anyone ever did – then this last hunt will have taught them something! My sister Arantxa and her husband’ – Hodei called Osané’s father by his name – ‘gave Osané to Edur, and Edur agreed that as soon as he got back from the hunt he’d join their family. I also gave my word on this.’
My heart leaped to my throat. Was Edur about to lose Osané? It was my fault that Edur wasn’t here to speak for himself. I owed it to him to stand up for him. I began to clear my throat anxiously, in case I had to lend my voice to Hodei’s plea.
Then Zigor spoke: ‘Osané will not go back to her family.’
‘Osané’s my niece, not yours! You keep out of it!’
The angry shouts of the Go-Betweens were taken up by the People. A scuffle broke out in front of us, close to the Go-Betweens’ hearths. Kemen plucked my deerskin. ‘This isn’t our fight,’ he whispered. ‘It’s too early for me to take sides.’
I pulled him back. ‘No, stay here. I know what you . . . you’ve not been here long enough . . . but you’re in my family now. No one can get you alone . . . Besides, I may need—’
‘Enough!’ Aitor roared.
Everyone was quiet.
‘Come now,’ said Aitor, suddenly smiling. ‘Let’s have no more fighting! It’s only over a woman, too. What are we coming to, that the whole People has to concern itself over such a little thing? And we have a feast tonight! What are we thinking of, wasting the evening like this? Is nobody hungry after all? ’When People started laughing Aitor laughed with them. ‘So let’s get this business over with. Nekané, fetch Osané!’
Nekané lifted the flap of the Go-Betweens’ shelter. As one, the crowd took in its breath, and held it. While Nekané was inside the shelter, silence settled over us, heavy as river-fog.
Nekané came out, leading Os
ané by the hand. I couldn’t see much through the smoke. The girl stumbled, but followed where she was led. She stood next to the Go-Betweens, staring at her feet.
‘This girl no longer belongs to Arantxa’s family,’ repeated Zigor in his dry voice.
‘We agree to that,’ said Aitor.
Hodei was silent.
A wild screaming broke out at the back of the crowd. There was a flurry of movement round Arantxa. The rest of us barely glanced round. Aitor raised his voice just a little. ‘But someone must have her. Some man will have to take her, and bring her into his own family.’
Now was my chance to speak. I cleared my throat.
The smoke suddenly started blowing the other way. Now we could see across the fire. Osané’s face was white as ash – it was easy to believe that Death had come close enough to breathe on her. Her face was lopsided, and all round her left eye there was a great red and purple bruise. In spite of the heat she had a squirrel-skin scarf tucked round her neck, right up to her chin.
‘You’re saying some man here did that?’
People looked round, but I never saw who’d called out.
‘You’ll know who it was soon enough,’ Aitor repeated. ‘Meanwhile someone must take her.’
‘She’s Edur’s!’ I croaked. No one heard me. But other men were shouting the same thing so it made no difference.
‘Where’s Edur?’
‘Give her to Edur! Let him take her!’
‘No, not Edur!’ Suddenly Aitor swung round and pointed straight at us. ‘Kemen!’
I never saw a man give such a start. I put my hand on Kemen’s shoulder to steady him. He stared at me wildly, as if all this were my fault. As, in a sense, I suppose it was.
Aitor fixed his gaze on the pair of us. ‘Kemen! You hear me! You know who you are, don’t you?’
Kemen just gazed at him, mouth hanging open.
‘Don’t be a fool, man! Come here!’
Kemen seemed rooted to the spot. It was me that pulled him to the foot of the Go-Betweens’ mound and shoved him upward. What would any of you have done? You’d have had to do the same! Kemen was my brother now, and the Go-Between was getting angry – what else could I have done?
Osané stumbled again as Aitor seized her from Nekané’s sheltering arm and thrust her at Kemen. Kemen was forced to put out a hand to steady her, but he never took his eyes off Zigor.
‘Take her! Go on, man, take her! What are we all waiting for? You want the names of your People to live? Do I have to tell a grown man what to do with a woman? Take her away, man, before we all die of hunger.’
Mind you, that wasn’t quite the end of it. Arantxa set up such a howling you’d think a pack of wolves had joined our feast. Then Osané’s elder brothers, Oroitz and Koldo, came over to our hearth and tried to make us fight. They threatened us with what Edur would do when he got back. That made me so angry I forgot I owed Edur anything. I don’t like having thoughts that don’t make sense sitting next to each other. Besides, we had a feast laid out in front of us.
Osané didn’t even look at her brothers. She sat mute between Sorné and Hilargi, their arms protectively round her shoulders, hugging her squirrel-skins round her neck and staring into the fire.
Osané’s brothers shouted at Kemen. ‘You can’t steal Osané! She was promised to Edur! You can’t take her! She’s ours!’
Kemen just sat there as if he hadn’t heard a word. It was Itsaso who said to no one in particular, ‘You know, all Arantxa’s family wants is a good hunter who’ll keep them fed in winter. Their own men are so bad at hunting they’re all scared of starving. That’s all it is.’
Kemen reached out and cuffed her. It can’t have been very hard, because Itsaso just stared at him with her hands pressed to her mouth, then suddenly snorted with laughter.
Oroitz shook his spear at Kemen. ‘You can’t steal my sister! We’ll get her back! You don’t even belong here! How many enemies do you want, Kemen?’
Suddenly Kemen leaped to his feet. He swept past the women and grabbed his share of our feast from the fire. He seized a hide and flung the half-cooked meat into it. Haizea cried out, ‘Oh no!’
Kemen strode across the Camp and dumped his meat at Arantxa’s hearth. ‘So much for your daughter!’ he shouted, and swept away the hide so the meat was all tumbled in the dirt.
It didn’t stop them. Osané’s brothers hurled threats and shook their fists at us. They called the spirits to witness that Kemen would be their enemy for ever.
I’d had enough. I jumped up and bundled my share of the meat into a hide.
‘Oh no,’ cried Haizea tearfully. ‘Not all our feast!’
She needn’t have worried. When Sendoa and his brothers saw what was happening they seized their meat from the women, and they too bundled up their share of the kill and dumped it at Arantxa’s hearth ‘because these great hunters of yours don’t seem able to get you any’. Suddenly everyone began to laugh. More cousins started joining in the game. More and more meat was laid at Arantxa’s feet – far more than any single family could possibly eat. Arantxa’s husband and sons were so shamed in the end they had to creep away into the forest until after the feast was over. Arantxa didn’t know what to do with all that meat. She couldn’t persuade anyone to take it from her. By now the whole Camp was enjoying the joke. Those who hadn’t dumped their meat on Arantxa started coming over to our family with baskets full, and begging us to take a few sad morsels from their leftovers. They gave so much that Haizea said afterwards she’d got more food than if we hadn’t given anything away at all.
So that’s how Kemen got his wife, and paid for her too. And because of Kemen, Hodei the Go-Between and all his family were angry with my family. And because of Kemen my friend Edur thought I’d betrayed him. Oh, I had plenty to worry about! Even so, I’ll never forget the sight of all that meat piled up at Arantxa’s hearth. People still tell the story of that night. It was one of the best jokes we ever had: it still makes me laugh whenever I happen to think about it.
FOURTH NIGHT: SALMON CAMP
Alaia said:
In Light Moon I carried the Fire to our Salmon Camp – the one that was my father’s Birth Place. Salmon Camp is a place of many waterfalls. We fall asleep to the sound of water rushing through the gorge below. Two Rivers meet just above our Camp. One comes down from Mother Mountain, the other from Salmon Camp Hill. Many small streams have fed those Rivers and helped them grow strong. Wherever the streams cross the precipices that line the hillside they make more waterfalls, until the whole hill sings. At the foot of every waterfall there’s a dark pool. The streams sing to the Salmon with many voices. When the Salmon hear the call of the waters they come in from the sea and leap up the falls. They jump from pool to pool until they lie in the lap of the hills. The high pools are the Birth Place of the Salmon, and their Death Place too. All the while we’re at Salmon Camp we hear the Rivers sing to the Salmon. The songs of the water live in our hearts and become our songs too.
We’d agreed with my aunts in Deer Moon that we’d all make Salmon Camp together, but the weather had been so bad we weren’t sure anyone would come. When we arrived my aunt Sorné was already there. She had a basket of trout and shellfish ready roasted for us: she’d seen our boat coming through the straits between Cave Island and Mother Mountain Island on the far side of the loch. We always keep the saplings cut back on the steep slope below Salmon Camp; it doesn’t matter being so open because the wind seldom comes from the Sunless Sky in summer. From our hearth we can see everything that’s happening on the loch below.
My mother didn’t seem particularly pleased to see her sister. Nekané can be ungrateful: Sorné had only come because she’d been thinking about us. It was kind of her to want to hear all about our first winter with Osané and Kemen. When I said so to my mother, Nekané just snorted, and went on cutting heather for our sleeping places, slicing through each stem as fiercely as if the spirits of the heather had offended her. Sendoa had brought his mother – that w
as because he wanted to hunt with Amets – and some of the younger cousins came with them. Our own family ended up staying at my father’s Salmon Camp until Deer Moon went into the dark. Sorné was with us until the end of Salmon Moon. Most of her family had stayed at their Salmon Camp by the Boat Crossing Place. The River’s much bigger there. I didn’t blame them. I tell you, it wasn’t the sort of Year when you’d paddle far if you could help it!
As soon as we got to Salmon Camp I unwrapped our embers and added them to my aunt’s fire. Everyone stretched up their arms while my father called on the Salmon spirits and told them we’d come back. My father said to the spirits that, just as he’d come back to his own Birth Place, now we were waiting for the Salmon to come home too. My father spoke to the spirits for a long while. Behind him I could see a wave of cloud rising under the Evening Sun Sky, over the shoulder of the great cliffs where Salmon Camp Hill tumbles to the sea. I couldn’t help thinking we ought to get the hides stretched over the tent frames before it rained. In less than a hand-full of heartbeats that great grey wave would swallow the Sun. Even as I watched, the Sun slipped into it and began to disappear. The air turned cold and smelt of coming rain. Still my father spoke to the spirits . . . what more could he possibly have to say? I had baskets of shellfish, eggs, shag chicks and flatfish we’d brought from Seal Bay. I needed to build up the embers into a good roasting fire if we were going to eat before dark. If only I could get the fire ready now, we could eat outside before the rain drove us into our tent.
I’m not like my mother and sister. There are many things I’ll never know. I see so little that I find it hard sometimes to be patient with those who look further, and understand more. But the spirits don’t despise me either. One thing I can say for myself: I’ve never – in all the Years I’ve looked after the fire, however hard the rain, and however wet the voyage – I’ve never let our family’s Fire go out.
The Gathering Night Page 16
