by John Norman
For those who might be interested in such things, we came to the wands in the early spring, early in Magaksicaagliwi, which is the Moon of the Returning Gants. The preceding moon was the Sore-Eye Moon, or Istawicayazanwi. Because of its uncertain weather, the possible freezes and storms, and its harsh winds, this month had been avoided by Grunt. The next moon was Wozupiwi, the Planting Moon, which term, in the context, I find extremely interesting. It seems to make clear that the folk of the area, at one time, were settled, agricultural peoples. That, of course, would have been before the acquisition of the kaiila, which seems to have wrought a local cultural transformation of the first magnitude. One often thinks of a hunting economy representing a lower, in some sense, stage of cultural development than an agricultural economy. Perhaps this is because, commonly, agriculture provides a stabler cultural milieu and can, normally, support larger populations on less territory. A single human being can be agriculturally supported by less than an acre of land. The same human being, if surviving by hunting, would require a territory of several square miles. Here, however, we seem to have a case where peoples deliberately chose the widely ranging, nomadic hunting economy over an agricultural economy. The mobility afforded by the kaiila and the abundance of the kailiauk doubtless made this choice possible, the choice of the widely ranging hunter, the proud and free warrior, over the farmer, denied distant horizons, he who must live at the mercy of the elements and in bondage to his own soil.
Grunt sat astride his kaiila, a lofty, yellow animal, looking eastward, out beyond the wands. Behind him there was a pack kaiila, laden with goods. A thong ran from the pierced nose of the beast to a ring at the back of his saddle. I, too, was astride my kaiila, a black, silken, high-necked, long-fanged beast. To my saddle, too, was tethered a pack kaiila. Various goods were borne by our pack animals, both of the four-legged and two-legged varieties. My goods were all laden on my pack kaiila. Grunt's goods, on the other hand, of course, were distributed over his eleven beasts of burden, the kaiila and the ten other pack animals. My goods, substantially, consisted of blankets, colored cloths, ribbons, mirrors and beads, kettles and pans, popular in the grasslands, hard candies, cake sugar and chemical dyes. Grunt carried similar articles but he, as well, as I had not, carried such items as long nails, rivets, hatchets, metal arrowheads, metal lance points, knife blades and butcher knives. The knife blades and long nails are sometimes mounted in clubs. The blades, of course, may also be fitted into carved handles, of wood and bone. The rivets are useful in fastening blades in handles and lance shafts. The metal arrowhead is a convenience. It is ready-made and easy to mount. It is not likely to fracture as a stone point might. Similarly it makes dangerous trips to flint-rich areas unnecessary. The butcher knives are usually ground down into a narrow, concave shape. They do not have the sturdiness wanted for combat. They are used, generally, for the swift acquisition of bloody trophies.
I saw Grunt straighten himself in the high-pommeled saddle. He lifted the reins. He kicked back with his heels, suddenly, smiting the animal in the flanks. It started, and then, in its smooth, loping stride, crossed the line of the wands. Grunt rode some twenty yards ahead, and then pulled back the kaiila, twisting its head back with the reins, wheeling it about to face us. He loosened the long, coiled whip fastened with a snap strap at the right of his saddle, and rode back towards us, along the right side of the coffle of barefoot, scantily clad, neck-chained beauties. "Hei! Hei!" he called. He cracked the whip in the air, twice. He then rode about the rear of the coffle, and advanced, on his kaiila, along its left side. He was right-handed.
"We are women, and only helpless slaves!" cried out Ginger. "Please, Master, do not take us across the line of the wands!"
"Reconsider, Master, we beg of you!" cried out Evelyn.
"Hei! Hei!" cried Grunt.
"Please, no, Master!" cried out Ginger.
"Please, no, no, Master!" cried out Evelyn.
Then the whip lashed down. More than one girl cried out with pain. Then the whip fell, too, on Ginger and Evelyn. They screamed, struck.
"Hei! Hei!" called Grunt.
"Yes, Master!" wept Ginger.
"Yes, Master!" wept Evelyn.
"Hei! Hei!" urged Grunt.
The coffle, then, to the snapping of the whip, led by the terrified red-haired girl, the former Millicent Aubrey-Welles, from Pennsylvania, began to move ahead. Ginger and Evelyn, in their places, stumbled forward, red-eyed and almost numb with terror. Other girls, smarting from the pain and feeling the jerking of the chain on their collars, weeping, followed, they, too, in their appropriate places, precisely where their master wished them, places made clear by their collars and chains. Only Ginger and Evelyn, I surmised, had any inkling as to the nature of the place into which they were being taken, and they, too, in the final analysis, were only barbarians. They, too, at least as yet, would not be able to understand where they were being taken, what was being done to them, not fully, not yet in its full meaning. I thought it just as well that the girls, even Ginger and Evelyn, were substantially ignorant. This made it easier to march them across the line of the wands. I watched the girls, the burdens on their heads, their necks chained, moving through the tall grass. They were now crossing the line of the wands. I wondered if they could even begin to suspect the terrors into which they were entering. Yes, I thought to myself, it is better this way. Let them, for the time, remain ignorant. They would learn soon enough what it might mean, in such a place, in the place of the kailiauk and the high grasses, to be a white female.
Grunt, on his kaiila, had now taken his place at the head of the line, the pack kaiila behind him.
I looked at the red-haired girl, first in the coffle, the burden balanced with her small hands on her head. Grunt, I knew, had some special disposition in mind for her. Yet, now, she, like the others, served as a mere pack animal, one of the beasts of his coffle, bearing his goods.
No white man, I recalled, was to bring more than two kaiila across the line of the wands. No group of white men was to bring more than ten kaiila across that seemingly placid boundary.
The red-haired girl looked well in the coffle, moving in the grass, the chain on her neck, in the brief slave tunic. So, too, did the others. Slave girls are beautiful, even those who must serve as mere beasts of burden. Grunt, I recalled, in urging his coffle forward, had not struck the lead girl, his lovely red-haired beast, with the lash, as he had several of the others. He had chosen, for some reason, to spare her its stroke. This was, I suspected, because he had something more in mind for her than a burden and a place in the coffle. He had, clearly, something else in mind for her. He was apparently willing to take his time with her, and to bring her along easily and gently, at least for a time. This was, perhaps, because she seemed already to understand that it would be her business to please men, and that she was a slave. She would have to understand later, of course, what it was to be a slave, fully. That would be time enough for her to feel the boot and the whip.
"It is here," Grunt had said.
I looked again ahead, out beyond that seemingly placid boundary, out beyond the wands.
I checked my weapons. Then I, too, urged my kaiila forward. In a few moments I and my pack kaiila, too, had crossed the line of the wands.
"It is here," Grunt had said.
I pulled up the kaiila and looked behind me. Now I, too, had crossed that boundary marked by the supple feathered wands. I saw the feathers moving in the wind. Now I, too, had crossed the Ihanke. Now I, too, was within the Barrens.
I urged my kaiila forward again, after Grunt and the coffle. I did not wish to fall behind.
10
I See Dust Behind Us
"You are aware, are you not," I asked Grunt, "that we are being followed?"
"Yes," he said.
It was toward the noon of our second day in the Barrens.
"I trust that their intentions are peaceful," I said.
"That is unlikely," he smiled.
"Are we not ye
t in the country of the Dust Legs?" I inquired. This was a perimeter tribe which, on the whole, was favorably disposed towards whites. Most trading was done with Dust Legs. Indeed, it was through the Dust Legs that most of the goods of the interior might reach civilization, the Dust Legs, in effect, acting as agents and intermediaries. Many tribes, apparently, would not deal on a face-to-face basis with whites. This had to do with the hatred and suspicion fostered by that tradition called the Memory. Too, it was often difficult to control their young men. Although small trading groups were welcomed in the country of the Dust Legs, such groups seldom penetrated the more interior territories. Too many of them had failed to return. Grunt was unusual in having traded as far east as the country of the Fleer and the Yellow Knives. Too, he had entered, at least once, the country of the Sleen and the Kaiila. Some of these territories, apparently, had scarcely been penetrated since the days of the first white explorers of the Barrens, men such as Boswell, Diaz, Bento, Hastings and Hogarthe.
"Yes," said Grunt.
"Why, then, do you conjecture that their intentions may be hostile?" I asked.
"They are not Dust Legs," he said.
We wheeled our kaiila about, and the coffle stopped. The girls put down their burdens, gratefully. We observed the dust in the distance, some pasangs across the prairie.
"They are, then," I speculated, "Fleer or Yellow Knives."
"No," he said.
"I do not understand," I said.
"Observe the dust," he said. "Its front is circumscribed, and it does not behave as though raised by the wind."
"The wind direction, too," I said, "would be incorrect."
"Accordingly," said Grunt, "you conjecture that the dust is raised by the paws of running kaiila."
"Yes," I said.
"In that you are correct," he said. "What else do you note?" he asked.
"I do not understand," I said. I was growing apprehensive. It was early in the day. I had little doubt but what the distant riders could overtake us, and easily, before nightfall.
"It is so obvious," said Grunt, "that you have noted it, but have not considered its significance."
"What?" I asked.
"You can detect that dust," he said.
"Yes," I said, "of course."
"Does that not seem to you of interest?" he asked.
"I do not understand," I said.
"To raise dust like that, in this terrain," said Grunt, "you must ride across draws, rather than avoid them, and you must ride in a cluster, where the dust will rise, cloudlike, rather than rise and fall, in a narrow line, swiftly dissipated by the wind."
"What are you telling me?" I asked.
Grunt grinned. "If we were being followed by red savages," he said, "I do not think that you, with your present level of skills, would be aware of it."
"I do not understand," I said.
"That dust," he said, "does not rise from the paws of the kaiila of Dust Legs, nor of Yellow Knives nor Fleer. It is not raised, at all, by the kaiila of red savages. They would not ride so openly, so carelessly, so stupidly. They would avoid, where possible, grassless, dry areas, and they would ride at intervals, in single file. This arrangement not only obscures their numbers but lowers and narrows the dust line."
"White men, then, follow us," I said.
"I thought they would," said Grunt.
"They cannot be white men," I said. "Observe the front of dust. That must be raised by fifteen or twenty kaiila."
"True," smiled Grunt. "They are fools."
I swallowed, hard. A law, imposed on white men entering their lands by red savages, had been violated.
"Who are they?" I asked.
"I have had trouble with them before," smiled Grunt. "I have been waiting for them."
"Who are they?" I asked.
"They want you," he said. "I thought they would follow this time. You are the bait."
"I?" I asked.
"You came with me of your own free will, did you not?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, irritably.
"Accordingly," he grinned, "you cannot blame me."
"I am not interested in blaming anyone," I said. "I would just like to know what is going on."
"They will also be interested in the second and third girls," he said.
I looked to Ginger and Evelyn, lying in the grass, exhausted, their burdens beside them.
"They are the Hobarts," I said, "and the men from the Bar Ina."
"Yes," said Grunt.
"You said they would not make pleasant enemies," I said.
"They will not," he said.
"We cannot outrun them with the girls," I said. "We must make a stand." I looked about, swiftly, for high ground or shelter.
"No," said Grunt.
"What, then, are we to do?" I asked.
"We shall continue on, as we were," said Grunt. "We shall not even suggest, by our behavior, that we are aware of their approach."
"I do not understand," I said.
"To be sure," said Grunt, "we should waste little time." He then rode his kaiila about the coffle of girls, cracking his whip, viciously. Several cried out in fear. They had already felt that whip, through the thin brown cloth of their slave tunics or across the backs of their legs. "Hei! Hei!" called Grunt. "On your feet, you stupid sluts, you luscious beasts! Up! Up! Burdens up! Burdens up! Have we all day to dally? No, my luscious beasts, no! Burdens up! Burdens up!" The girls scrambled to their feet, struggling to lift their burdens. The whip cracked again and a girl cried out with pain, one more tardy than the rest. Then she, too, gasping, tears in her eyes, stood ready in the coffle, the burden balanced on her head. "On!" said Grunt, with a gesture of his whip, wheeling about on his kaiila. "On!" With the sound of chains and collars, and some frightened sobbing, the neck-shackled beauties again took up the march.
I drew my kaiila alongside that of Grunt. "I think we must either run," I said, "abandoning the girls and the goods, or stop, and make a stand."
"I do not think we should make a stand," said Grunt. "We could kill the kaiila and use them, in effect, as a fort and shelter, but, even so, we would be severely outnumbered."
I said nothing. I feared his assessment of the situation was only too sound.
"If we were red savages," said Grunt, "we would run. Then, hopefully, when the pursuers were strung out, over pasangs, we would turn back on them and, two to one, one engaging, the other striking, finish them off. If this did not seem practical we might separate, dividing our pursuers, and meet later at a prearranged rendezvous, thence to return under the cover of darkness to recover, if possible, what we had lost."
"That is interesting," I said. "Indeed, that seems a sensible plan. Let us put it immediately into effect."
"No," said Grunt.
"Why not?" I asked.
"It is pointless," he said.
"Why is it pointless?" I asked.
"It is pointless," he said, "because we are in no danger."
I looked back at the approaching dust. "We are not in danger?" I asked.
"No," said Grunt, not looking back. "It is they, rather, who are in danger, grave danger."
"I think," I said, angrily, "that we are fools."
"No," said Grunt, quietly. "It is they who are the fools."
11
Slave Instruction;
It Seems We Are No Longer Being Followed
"You seem apprehensive," said Grunt.
"They should have caught up to us by now," I said.
I stood at the edge of our small camp, in a few trees, nestled beside a small stream. It was the late afternoon.
"No," said Grunt. "Put it from your mind."
I turned back to the camp.
Ginger and Evelyn had been freed from the coffle, to gather wood and cook, and attend to the chores of the camp. The collars and chains had been rearranged on the other girls, in such a way that, by an alternation of the position of snap locks and chain segments, a free collar was now at each end of the coffle. These collar
s had then been fastened about two small trees, thus confining the girls, other than Ginger and Evelyn, to the line between the two trees. Last night the coffle had been taken four times about a small, sturdy tree and then the collar of the first girl had been fastened to the collar of the last girl. That, too, would be, I supposed, the procedure tonight. There are many ways to keep a line of girls in place overnight, of course. A common way is to bind their wrists behind their backs and then place them on the ground, supine, the head of one to the feet of the other. A given girl, then, by thongs on her collar, is tied to the left ankle of the girl on her left, and to the right ankle of the girl on her right; similarly, the girl on her left is thonged, by thongs passing about her collar, to the given girl's left ankle, and the girl on the given girl's right is thonged, by thongs passing about her collar, to the right ankle of the given girl.
"I am first girl," said Ginger, walking back and forth before the line of girls, kneeling before her, a switch in her small hand, "and Evelyn is second girl." She indicated Evelyn. She spoke in English, a language held in common by the new barbarian slaves. Five spoke English natively; three were American, including the red-haired girl, and two were British; two of the other girls were Swedish, and the last girl, with the short, dark hair, was French. "You will address myself, and Evelyn, as Mistress," she said. "You will learn your lessons well, both those of the language and of service."
The girls looked at one another.
"This is a switch," said Ginger, lifting the implement.
It was of wood, a flexible branch, about a yard long, cut by Grunt from one of the trees amongst which we camped. It had been entrusted to Ginger, as she was first girl.
"A switch," said Ginger.
She then struck one of the girls, one of the Swedish girls, with a stinging, slashing blow at the side of the neck.
