by Hannah Ross
Priscilla patted his hand. "Nothing wrong with what we have here. Thunder Cloud's people sure don't appear malnourished, though buffalo meat does get old after a while."
The intensely nomadic lifestyle of the tribe left no room for growing crops or keeping dairy animals or poultry. The hunters and their families subsisted largely on buffalo, some smaller game found on the mountains and, to a lesser extent, fish from rivers and creeks. They supplemented their diet by various seeds, nuts, fruit and roots they gathered seasonally and preserved by drying. This diet made for strong men, beautiful and fertile women, and healthy, hearty children, but it was quite an adjustment for people who relied on milk from their cow, eggs from their chickens, and vegetables from their garden.
Otherwise, their stay at the camp of Thunder Cloud was enjoyable. With the teepee divided into two parts by a heavy hide used as a partition, Ben and Priscilla had their private space of sorts, while Darren and Jill stayed on the other side. The simplicity of their domestic arrangements and the freedom from daily homestead chores left plenty of time to devote to learning the ways of the people among whom they were planted for the time being. Ben hunted and fished with Thunder Cloud, Midnight Fox, and the other men, while Priscilla learned their methods of drying meat and fish, curing hides, and making clothing, pottery, and plant medicine. Ian, too, was happy, enjoying the freedom of his days and taking his first steps on wobbly little feet.
Whenever they had time, Ben and Priscilla, with Darren and Jill, and very often with Midnight Fox as their guide, rode out to explore the surroundings. The camp was located in a beautiful place, surrounded by picturesque mountains with a lake and stream nearby. Priscilla often said, tongue in cheek, that she had no lack of opportunity to appreciate the beauty of the stream, as she came there every other day in fine weather to wash the family clothes. Ben ventured to express the opinion that changing one's underwear every day was overrated, but his wife quelled him with a look.
"You won't go dirty, Ben Grey, while I can help it. And besides, it's not too bad. All the women and their children come down to the stream to do the washing and talk and laugh. Ian likes to splash about in the water, too. Gabby has been getting by in the Eagles camp without a washing machine all these years, and with all that brood of hers, too, so I daresay I can manage hand-washing clothes for the three of us for a while."
Ben was about to reply when, outside the heavy leather flap that served to close the front entrance, they heard Midnight Fox say, "Can I come in?"
Priscilla threw a light blanket over herself, covering her breast and Ian's head, before saying, "Yes, come on in."
Midnight Fox walked in, dressed in his customary attire of light thin leather, with matching moccasins. His straight coal-black hair was tightly braided and he carried a short, sturdy bow.
"Did Thunder Cloud tell you we are going bow-hunting today, Ben? We're about to set out. Are you coming with us?"
"Yes, I'm nearly ready." Ben rose and reached for his jacket. "I'd love to learn to hunt with a bow. I've never quite grasped how to do that properly."
"It's not as convenient as shooting a rifle, but Thunder Cloud believes we should master such weapons as we can make on our own. I agree. There's no guarantee we'll always be able to get our hands on guns and ammo. Are Darren and Jill coming as well?"
"No idea. They aren't here. I think they rode out at sunrise."
Midnight Fox looked slightly disappointed. "I thought they were interested in bow-hunting, too."
"Jill will be sorry to miss it, I'm sure," Priscilla said with a knowing look. "I don't think they're that far from the camp. You may come across them as you set out."
Though most women of the tribe naturally fell into the traditional roles of caring for children, cooking, preserving food and managing the household, gender roles were flexible and lacked the rigidity of centuries past, and many single women, untied as yet by family responsibilities, hunted along with the men.
Once the men were gone, Priscilla swung Ian on her hip and went out. It was a fine day, and she didn't have any washing to do, so she walked to the edge of the camp, where several large hides were curing, tightly stretched across wooden frames.
Priscilla marveled at how most people of the One Nation tribe really did seem to be, if not full-blooded Native Americans, then with a significant part of Native ancestry. Reconstructing the old tribes would be next to impossible, of course, but it seemed miraculous that these people banded together at all, despite being scattered by the War all those years ago and nearly exterminated by the reproductive restrictions, the penalties, and the orphanages that obliterated every bit of personal background.
There were people, however, who were adopted into the tribe, despite not being genetically related to any native Americans. One such was now standing near the hide frames, a red-haired, freckled girl of about eighteen, named Sally but now more commonly known as Laugh A Lot. Sally did full justice to her new name, as a beaming smile rarely left her face and she was always ready to burst out laughing over the most trivial joke. Unlike most of the people in these regions beyond the Boundary, Sally was not an Illegal. Though she was born with an authorization, it didn't do her much good. She grew up in the slums, got kicked out of school at the age of fifteen, and traveled across the Boundary with a team of smugglers. She quickly left them and traveled southwest in search of she hardly knew what until she encountered a hunting party and returned with them to Thunder Cloud's camp.
"Hey there!" Sally greeted Priscilla in her usual manner, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. "I thought you'd be gone with the hunters."
Priscilla shook her head. "Not really my thing. And I had nobody to leave Ian with. I thought I'd better come and see how you're getting on with these hides."
"Oh, I'm doing pretty well. I'm stretching them tighter across the frames, see? These are going to make a fine set of a shirt and leggings."
"Your skins really are fine. It's a ton of work, though, isn't it?"
Sally shrugged. "Depends on how you see it. It's a process, certainly, and can't be compared to rooting through piles of clothes in abandoned cities. Curing hides and making clothes takes time, but few things are as comfortable to wear and last as long as finely worked leather."
"You sure seem to be doing this like a natural."
"I took to it pretty quick, yes. I never was anything, never did anything in my life before coming here, you know. Doing useful work with my hands was something I loved right away, though using brains to cure hides really put me off at first. I got over it, though, and acquired my own little secrets in time."
Ian, determined to finally learn to walk, got up on his chubby little feet, holding on to a rock, and made two very slow, uncertain steps. "Way to go!" Priscilla said, beaming. "What kind of secrets do you mean, Sally?"
"Well, for example, when I collect urine to soak the hides—"
"You collect what?" Priscilla's nose wrinkled.
"Urine. Or should I say piss?" Sally grinned. "There's nothing better than that to soak the hides and make them clean and easy to work with. I suppose bleach or some other solution could work as well, but that's what we have here."
Priscilla felt her interest in leather-work quickly ebb away. "Well, I'm sure this is really…"
"So, as I said, I don't just collect my waters, I take care to keep the first urine of each morning, and this makes for a stronger solution. Then, after the hides have been soaked, I wash them very carefully in the river, and..."
The rest of Sally's speech was interrupted by the canter of a horse drawing near. To Priscilla's surprise, the rider was a stranger. She knew by face, if not by name, all the men of Thunder Cloud's camp, and this newcomer was not one of them. Sally, however, appeared to be familiar with him.
"What is it, Nimble Otter? You look like you've been riding nonstop all the way from your camp. Stay still a while and catch your breath."
The stranger got off his horse, panting and wiping his sweaty face. "Where is Thun
der Cloud?"
"Gone to hunt. Do you want me to take you to—"
"What about Midnight Fox?"
"Gone as well."
The man called Nimble Otter swore under his breath. "I'll have to go after them at once, then."
"Get a grip, Otter. Your horse is tired out, and you don't look so much better yourself. I'll take you to a place where you can rest."
Otter, though loath to admit he was almost dead on his feet, was forced to acknowledge the impracticality of going after Thunder Cloud at once.
"Let's go to my place," Priscilla said. "It's nice and quiet now, and we have some leftovers from yesterday's roast."
After some rest, and refreshment in the form of cold roast and wild herb tea, both Otter and his horse seemed to revive a little. "I hope Thunder Cloud returns soon."
"But what happened? Come on, Otter, spill the beans. You can't gallop into a camp looking like you've just seen Doomsday and keep silent about it."
Otter took a long and grateful swig of honeyed herb tea. "It's the Registry men," he finally said. "They reached our camp yesterday."
Priscilla heard a sharp intake of breath, and realized it was hers. Otter's camp was not that far from Thunder Cloud's. "What did they do?"
"Nothing much, really, for the time being. Mostly just stood, looked around, took notes. Then they told us we must all show up at a Registry Point to the east, where our names will be taken down and we'll be given birth certificates. They told us we must do this if we want a chance to own our land." Otter shook his head with an unexpected smile.
"What's so funny?" Sally asked.
"What came next. Eagle Feather stepped up to them and told them that we don't own the Land, that we are just passing through and hope to do this without bothering Her. And he also said that they can take those birth certificates and wipe their—"
Sally cleared her throat. "Yes, yes, I get the gist."
"But what happened next?" Priscilla pressed.
Otter's face grew serious again. "They left. But I think they will come back again."
* * *
Thunder Cloud appeared to share this sentiment when he came back. "Thank you for hurrying here to warn us, Otter. If the Registry men are snooping around, this area is no longer safe. Tomorrow we move northwest, deeper into the mountains. The mountains are vast, and I know many trails where the Registry people will find it impossible to travel with their jeeps."
"And what happens when we run out of places to go to?" Ben asked.
Thunder Cloud looked at him. "It's unlikely they will find us there, but if they do, we fight. But we do that when we decide, and on our terms, not theirs."
"You definitely think it will come to that, then?" Darren frowned.
"I don't know. I hope not. I certainly don't have the smallest wish to fight officials who have all the might of the White Tower behind them. But if it comes to a point when we might lose our freedom, and I'm afraid it might, judging from stories of what is happening to the east, then yes, I'm going to fight as long as I can. If I can't live as a free man, I will die as a free man."
Thunder Cloud swept over them with a look, as if daring someone to contradict him, but nobody did. There were no further arguments. Everyone appeared to feel the same way. The people dispersed, picking up various utensils and equipment that were scattered around the camp to pack them for the move.
Ben and Priscilla slept fitfully that night. "If the White Tower is really determined to call the shots even as far as here," Priscilla whispered in the dark, "we don't stand a chance. They're too powerful."
"We have advantages they don't have," Ben argued. "We're used to traveling lightly and living off the land. They've been focused too long on maintaining and fortifying the Boundary. Further into the mountains are whole areas they will find very inconvenient to approach unless they're on horseback. It's very likely they won't bother."
Priscilla shook her head. "I'm afraid you're underestimating them, Ben."
She lay awake for a long time after Ben fell asleep. The tense silence on the other half of the teepee, devoid of the usual deep and slow breathing, told her that Darren and Jill weren't asleep either.
* * *
In the morning, with first light, the preparations for the move continued. Teepees were folded, packs and poles strapped to the backs of horses, breakfast hurriedly prepared and eaten. Finally, just before the camp was about to mount, Thunder Cloud threw up his arms and said:
"Now we give homage to the Great Spirits of the Earth and Sky! Let's dance."
And, first to follow his own call, Thunder Cloud began to dance and chant. Soon he was followed by several other people. It was a curious, free-form dance, fused from the remnants of the ancient traditions and the interpretation of their modern followers.
Ben and Priscilla looked on, slightly uncomfortable, while Ian, unaware of his parents' misgivings, clapped his hands and moved his torso to the rhythm of the chant. Priscilla wasn't sure how she felt about all this. The simplicity and harmony of these people's lifestyle were admirable, but this esoteric dance was not something she could relate to.
Finally, it was time to go. Ben and Priscilla mounted their horses, Priscilla firmly strapping Ian to her. He wiggled a little in protest, but soon settled down.
The people faced a long and rigorous ride, with many temporary stops and quite a bit of discomfort, before they would reach their next campsite. They hoped, however, for a peaceful, untroubled spell that would make the effort worthwhile.
8
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The driver stopped at the beginning of the long broad avenue of trees leading to Silver Oaks. It was a fine day, and Stephanie was inclined to take a pleasant little walk with her children.
"What time should I come and pick you up, Mrs. Thornton?"
"At two o'clock, Sam. Don't be late. At four o'clock exactly I must be at the Urban Center, and I need to stop at home before that."
"Very well, ma'am."
The driver gave her a respectful salute and departed. Stephanie began to saunter toward the mansion, delighting in the alternating cool shade and bright sunshine of the driveway. Her face was shielded from the brightness of the sun by a broad-brimmed hat. The sunlight shone off Olivia's golden curls and Georgie's dark hair as they skipped along the lane, sometimes running ahead of their mother, sometimes coming back and touching her knee as if in a game of tag.
"Are we going to see Grandpa?" Olivia asked.
"I don't know, sweetheart. If he feels well enough, maybe. But be quiet, now, when we go in. We don't want to disturb Grandpa if he's resting."
Stephanie had not seen her father for some weeks. He was usually asleep when she came, or else too irritable for visitors. A perpetual state of weakness, helplessness, and confinement was insufferable for a man such as Alexander Dahl.
"Hello, Harriet," she said, taking off her hat and giving it to the maid. "It's kind of hot today, isn't it?"
"Very fine weather, Mrs. Thornton, but a bit hot, yes. Would you like me to go and tell Mrs. Dahl you're here?"
At that moment, Stephanie heard the gentle clicking of heels as her mother came down the stairs, her usually tired face animated with pleasant surprise.
"Stephanie! How delightful!" she exclaimed, bending and kissing the children. "Harriet, bring some refreshments out to the verandah. We're going to sit there. I don't want Mr. Dahl to be disturbed."
"At once, ma'am."
"Is Daddy sleeping?" Stephanie asked as they moved in the direction of the sliding squeaky-clean glass doors.
"Yes, dear. He didn't sleep well last night, and I persuaded him to have an early lunch and a nap afterwards. He'll be sorry to miss you, though. Maybe you can come up and say hello later."
"How is he doing?" Stephanie watched Harriet set the loaded tray on the table as her mother sighed.
"There are days and there are days, dear. Today was not too bad, actually. Your father was well enough to come downstairs, and
we sat in the garden for a bit. Of course, he was tired soon."
As Olivia and Georgie had their fill of cake and lemonade and ran off to play, the conversation came to a halt. "Have you heard anything from Prissy lately?" Stephanie asked.
Eleanor shook her head. "No, nothing. You know how she is. I can only hope she's alright, with all that is going on out there."
"You know, Mom, when she came for a visit for the first time in all these years, I sort of hoped..."
"...That she would stay? But why would she now, if she didn't when she had no family to hold her back?"
"I just don't understand." Stephanie's head shook. "Ian's father, Ben… I've never seen him, but he can't be that special. What is it about this man that made her throw everything away and make a muddle of her life?"
"There is where you're mistaken, Stephy. She didn't choose that life for the sake of her man. She chose the man because he fit right in with the life she wanted. Like it or not, we have to respect her choice. And I confess that she did seem happy, more so than ever when she was preparing to go back."
Stephanie made a derisive noise. "Happy! Out there, with those savages! I will never understand this." She threw a glance at her watch and pushed aside her half-empty glass of lemonade. "I'm afraid I must get going, Mom. There's the Literacy Society Ladies' Tea at four o'clock. Do you want to come?"
Eleanor shook her head. "No, I think I'll stay here. Your father might need me."
"You know this isn't healthy for you, Mom. You hardly ever get out of the house at all these days. Surely a little airing will do you good. Harriet will be here, won't she?"
"Yes, but I really think I will pass this time, dear. Do you want to leave the children with me? I think Harriet and I can take care of them well enough between us."
"I'd rather take them home now. They'll soon be tired, and Georgie will want his nap. Nobody manages him as well as my au pair does. I'll call the driver."
Stephanie was about to pick up her bag and call for Harriet to bring her hat, when an unsteady step through the doors of the verandah made her and her mother turn around.