Sisters of the Wolf

by Patricia Miller-Schroeder

  “Yes, the light will soon fade and that stink bear could return.”

  “I think he’s learned not to bother us,” Shinoni says. “We have powerful protectors.” The eagle swoops low overhead. Its sharp, clear call lingers in the twilight, then fades as it disappears into the distance.

  “That may be,” says Keena, “but Haken still tracks us, and he’s more dangerous than even a stink bear.”

  Tewa pushes between them from behind. She matches her pace to theirs for awhile before loping ahead. Faintly at first, then more clearly, the shapes of trees and a hillside emerge through the twilight. Shinoni and Keena both breathe a sigh of relief. They follow Tewa’s tail flag as she disappears into the shadows, trusting her instincts that shelter lies ahead.

  Later that night, in a small cave behind a fallen boulder, Shinoni, Keena, and Tewa sit by a roaring fire. They’ve thanked the long neck for giving itself to feed them, and the swan now roasts on a spit over coals at the fire’s edge. Beside the fire is a pile of sleek white plumes, and both Shinoni and Keena wear several long feathers tucked into their hair.

  Shinoni holds up a thin hollow bone from the swan’s wing and examines it. “I’d like to make a flute from this. My mother used to play the swan-bone flute.” Her heart aches when she realizes she’s speaking of her mother in the past. “I remember how nice it sounded when I was a small one. It made me feel safe because my mother was close.”

  “I know how to make a flute,” Keena says. “The Kula hunter Sabra, who stayed with my family, made a flute for my father out of a piece of cave bear bone.”

  “A bear bone isn’t like a swan bone,” Shinoni says.

  “No, it’s heavier, but they both make music,” Keena says. “My father loves that flute and he plays it all the time. He lets me play it, too.”

  “Your father must care for you a lot to let you play his flute,” Shinoni says.

  “I can make you a flute out of the swan bone, if you’d like,” Keena offers.

  “I’d like that very much.” Shinoni tingles with pleasure. She looks at Keena’s tattered footwear with its worn-out laces. “I could sew your foot covers together so your feet stay warmer and dry.”

  “I’d like that, too.” Keena beams.

  Then they both settle down by the fire to work on their separate tasks. Tewa lies between them, stretched out on her back. She whines and growls softly in her sleep, perhaps dreaming of the day’s adventures.

  31

  THE NEXT MORNING Shinoni and Keena exchange their gifts. Shinoni balances the slim swan bone on the palm of her hand. An image of her mother smiles in her head as she strokes the smooth, polished surface. She admires the four holes punched along one side, then lifts it to her lips and blows several mournful, high-pitched notes.

  Keena examines the carefully stitched boots Shinoni has created from her battered foot wraps. She runs her fingers over the sinew stitches, then slips her feet inside and wriggles her toes in the dried grass lining. “These are good foot covers, Shinoni. Thanks to you, my feet will be dry today.”

  “Thank you, Keena. It’ll take some practice, but now I’m linked to my mother.”

  They share a hug, then pack up quickly and leave the cave just as the sun’s first rays peek above the horizon.

  Shinoni, Keena, and Tewa travel along the hillside and descend into a broad valley. In the distance, a herd of reindeer trek from the high country into the warmer valley below. Their greyish-white coats meld with the snow-dotted landscape. The herd spreads out across the steppe. Mothers with nearly grown young ones nimbly travel alongside males and females without young.

  “There are so many, and most carry antlers,” Shinoni says. “Which are the mothers?”

  “You’ve never seen the snow walkers flowing like a river?” Keena puffs up her chest. “In their clan, all grown ones wear headdresses. We sometimes use the antlers to dig our way through the snow after storms.”

  “I’ve seen them, but not often,” Shinoni says. “They aren’t like the forest deer near my people’s camps. Forest deer don’t travel in big groups like these.”

  Tewa watches the herd, her ears cocked and muscles tense. She whines excitedly, then licks her lips. She turns to the girls, gives a short yodel, and lopes down the hill toward the reindeer.

  “They’re a long way off. Will she hunt alone?” Keena shades her eyes, trying to follow Tewa’s descent as she disappears behind shrubbery.

  “Her wolf spirit’s restless for a chase and a kill. The snow walkers are worthy prey and there are lots to choose from.”

  “Maybe she’ll bring us fresh meat tonight and we’ll soon have full bellies again.” Keena smacks her lips. “They’re very tasty.”

  Shinoni finds a less steep trail into the valley, away from the reindeer herd. As they make their way down, the sun rises higher above the horizon. Its warming rays lift their spirits. A thin skiff of snow on the grass sparkles under their feet and begins to melt.

  “Careful, it’s slippery,” Shinoni says. “Want me to help you?”

  “I’m from the high country. I know how to get down hills.” Keena chuckles and speeds up. Almost immediately, her wet foot covers slip on the icy vegetation. “Yiiiiii,” she yelps as her feet shoot out from under her, knocking her backward.

  “Oh yeah, you’re great at getting around. Can you teach me how to do that?” Shinoni shakes with laughter.

  “Glad to show you.” Keena puffs to get her breath back. Then she clutches her knees and rolls head over heels, straight into Shinoni, sending her flying. They slip and slide downhill, laughing as they tumble over each other. They land in a tangle of arms and legs at the bottom of the slope.

  Shinoni grins as they shake off the snow. “You sure know how to get down hills fast, Krag.”

  “You’re a fast learner, Kula.”

  “Anything to stay ahead of Haken, eh, Krag?” Shinoni quips.

  “We have to keep moving, because he could be anywhere. Come on!” Keena urges, her voice suddenly serious.

  The mention of her dreaded uncle’s name sends a jolt of panic down to Keena’s toes. She and Shinoni scramble across the valley, trying to outrun their fear, not slowing down until the sun is high overhead.

  A herd of woolly mammoths grazes in the distance. Shinoni gasps at the sight of them. “Have you seen these long-nosed hairy ones before? They’re more powerful than even the big horn.”

  “I’ve mainly seen them dead and being cut up for our food,” Keena says. “It’s good to see them alive and peaceful with their clan.”

  Shinoni and Keena are downwind from the huge beasts, so they settle in a stand of willows to catch their breath and rest. As the herd wanders closer to their hiding spot in the bushes, their musty scent envelops Keena and Shinoni like a wet cloak.

  Shinoni stares at the beasts, her eyes full of awe. Shaggy grey hair covers their bodies and their heads, which are domed like hills. The mammoths sway as their long trunks sweep the earth, searching out tasty vegetation and stuffing trunkfuls of it into their waiting mouths. Their great curved tusks gleam in the sun.

  Some of the mammoths rub against each other affectionately as they graze. “They’re probably all females and young ones,” Keena says. “My father told me the long-nosed males travel alone.”

  “That big mother must be their leader.” Shinoni points to a massive female. “She’s probably taller than two hunters standing on each other’s shoulders.”

  A few boisterous young ones run and play near some half-grown females. The young ones head-butt each other and wrestle with their trunks. As they tussle, two of them move dangerously close to a nearby mudhole.

  “Those ones are probably supposed to watch the young ones.” Keena nods at the young females. “They should watch more closely for danger.” She winces as a pang of regret lodges in her chest. She should have watched Tat more closely.

  “They remind me of the boys in my band, always pushing and wrestling each other,” Shinoni says.

&
nbsp; “Are they any better at it?” Keena asks.

  “No, they aren’t.” Shinoni’s voice becomes sad. “I mean, they weren’t. They can’t play anymore.”

  “I used to wrestle and play with my friend Kreel when we were young ones,” says Keena. “He was often at my hearth because his father was mean to him. My father and mother liked Kreel, so he was with us a lot. I miss him sometimes.” She ducks her head, hiding a tear that rolls down her cheek.

  The mood lightens as one of the little mammoths tumbles into the mudhole, making the girls laugh. The tall grasses near the mudhole begin to quiver. Shinoni stares at them, shading her eyes. “Ho, look. Something’s hiding there.”

  Keena sees the tip of a tawny tail twitching above the grass. Is that dew on the grass or a glint of eye shine? Shinoni and Keena rise up on their knees. Keena’s heart pounds wildly.

  The little mammoth trumpets in distress as he sinks in the soft mud. The other young one panics and runs for the safety of the herd. Right behind him, a snarling golden streak bursts out of the grass in hot pursuit.

  “Oh no. Lion!” Shinoni shrieks.

  “He’s not going to make it,” Keena screams. Terror chokes her breath like a rope twisting around her neck.

  The lion is gaining on the young mammoth, now squealing for his mother. Shinoni leaps from the bushes and shouts at the lion, distracting it. A well-aimed stone from her sling thuds on the lion’s skull. The big cat spins around, slipping on the muddy ground, trying to keep its balance. The snarling beast focuses on Shinoni and Keena. Its yellow eyes narrow in slits of rage above its deadly fangs.

  Panic stabs through Keena’s body like a spear. She freezes as the lion lowers its head and advances.

  “Run, Keena!” Shinoni screams and grabs her arm, pulling her toward a sturdy tree a short distance away. Their feet take wing as the snarling lion bounds toward them. Keena, her hands clammy and slippery from fear, struggles to pull herself up the tree. Shinoni pushes her from behind and scrambles after her just as the big cat springs, shredding the bark at the base of the tree. The lion glares at them, spitting and snarling in frustration.

  “Good shot, Kula. Now it’s really mad.” Keena pants from her precarious perch halfway up the tree.

  “Let’s see you do better.” Shinoni struggles to wedge herself between two branches so that her hands are free. She lets loose with a barrage of stones from her pouch as the furious lion leaps below the tree. The little mammoth struggling helplessly in the mud begins to squeal more loudly, and the cat turns back toward the mudhole.

  “Fine, give me the sling!” Keena grabs the loaded sling from Shinoni, twirls it over her head, and sends a rock flying through the air. A direct hit thuds on the lion’s flank. “Eeeee-yaaaa, I hit it!” Keena almost falls from the tree in her excitement.

  “Nice shooting for a Krag,” Shinoni hoots, obviously impressed.

  The cat snarls and races back to the tree. It leaps at the girls, clawing the trunk below them.

  The herd lumbers toward the scene of battle. Their trumpeting and the little mammoth’s squeals fill the air. The lion faces them, standing its ground and spitting, as the girls watch from their perch in horror. As the angry mammoths close in, it turns tail and runs, the hairy giants trumpeting behind it.

  As the lion escapes into the grass, the mammoths turn back toward the mudhole. The matriarch rushes to the trapped youngster and runs her trunk over his little body and brushes him gently with her head. She drops to her knees, wraps her trunk under the young one’s belly, and tugs. Other females join her, wrapping their trunks around the baby and tugging. Finally the little mammoth is pulled from the sticky mud and helped up the slippery embankment. The females excitedly cluster around the calf and pat him. The youngster trumpets, a high-pitched squeak from his miniature trunk.

  The matriarch searches out the tree where Shinoni and Keena sit, transfixed. She stops under them, looks up, and raises her trunk. Keena shrinks back, but Shinoni bends down and touches the sensitive tip.

  “She’s beautiful, Keena. Feel how delicate the end is.”

  Keena reaches down carefully. Her eyes open wide with awe as she feels the trunk and its gentle probing tip. “It’s like a hand.”

  Shinoni looks down on the broad hairy back of the mammoth just below her under the tree. “We’ve ridden a horse, Keena. Wouldn’t you like to travel on such a powerful beast?”

  “No, I would not!” Keena stares at Shinoni. Not again.

  “We’d be safe from everything on her back,” Shinoni says.

  “Until we come off, Kula. Then she’ll stomp us like bugs.”

  Keena can’t believe Shinoni is serious. Yet there she is, already sliding off the branch, dangling her legs over the mammoth’s back.

  “Come on. She’s grateful we helped her young one,” Shinoni says.

  “Let’s keep it that way and not get her mad — oh!” Keena cringes as Shinoni drops onto the mammoth’s back. The huge beast stands still, not seeming to notice the puny human on her back.

  Keena’s muscles tighten with fear, but the terror of being alone is even greater. Closing her eyes, she steps down from her branch and lands on the matriarch’s back behind Shinoni. Keena gulps and clutches the coarse hair and feels the powerful muscles under her legs. She wraps her arms around Shinoni’s waist. “We’re going to die!” Keena moans through clenched teeth.

  What would Kreel and Sabra think if they saw her now?

  The matriarch reaches back with her trunk and gently touches Shinoni and Keena, then moves out from under the tree, trumpeting to her family. The young one comes to her at once, and the whole herd of six adult females, four half-grown females, and four calves moves off at a fast clip across the valley.

  32

  THE SUN’S SHADOWS loom long in the valley as the fast-moving mammoth herd approaches a canyon. Shinoni sits tall and proud on the matriarch’s humped shoulders. Her feet grip behind the large flapping ears. “Isn’t this great, Keena? We can see so far and nothing can get us up here. It’s even better than riding Ulu!”

  Keena rides behind Shinoni, clinging tightly to her waist. “Yes, we’re certainly up high.” Keena gulps. The matriarch is moving so quickly. What would happen if she slipped off her back? Better tighten her grip on Shinoni even more. Still, the wind in her face and the treetops being so close is exciting.

  Suddenly, high rock walls tower toward the sky on either side of the game trail they travel on. “What’s happening, Kula?” Keena asks. “Are we out of the forest?”

  “Perhaps you should open your eyes, Keena, and have a look.”

  Keena cranes her neck to see around Shinoni to the path ahead. There are still some thickets here, with smaller trees beside the trail, but the way is narrowing.

  “The long noses are travelling on a dangerous path,” Shinoni mutters. “We’ll soon be almost closed in by the rock walls.”

  Shinoni sits up straighter and points high above them. “Look! Can you see something moving up there? An ibex, maybe? Or someone hiding on the cliffs?” Shinoni turns her head, scanning the shifting shadows on the rock face. “There are people up there. Are they Krags?”

  Keena squints over Shinoni’s shoulder. “I can’t tell from here.” A shiver ripples down her spine. “If they’re Krags, they’ll likely push rocks down on the hairy long noses to kill them.”

  “If it’s a trap, we’ll be squashed, too!” Shinoni screeches. “Ho, mother. Go back!”

  “Back. Back!” Keena screams.

  Shinoni tugs at the matriarch’s ears and they both kick with their heels, trying to turn their massive mount. Their shouts reach the hunters on the cliff, who leap about, calling and pointing in amazement.

  “Guess they’ve never seen anyone ride a mammoth before,” Shinoni says. “We’re friends,” she shouts in Kula.

  “Spare us, hunters,” Keena cries in Krag.

  The hunters continue to jump up and down, arms flailing, in full view of the approaching mammoths. The
big beasts trumpet in panic and turn clumsily around, lumbering away at a furious pace. The matriarch crashes through the thicket beside the path, toppling small trees and breaking branches as she goes.

  Shinoni and Keena hang on desperately, but a swaying branch partway up a pine tree sweeps them from the matriarch’s back. They grab on to the branch and climb into the tree. The girls cling to their prickly perch high above the ground, watching the herd disappear into the distance. Keena looks in the other direction to see the mammoth hunters clambering down the rock face. The first ones to reach the valley floor race toward them, spears in hand.

  The fierce hunters are almost upon the tree where Keena and Shinoni cower. The bronze skin of their faces shines with oil. Black tusk-shaped tattoos decorate their chins, cheeks, and foreheads. Their dark hair is sleek and oiled and pulled back in a tail. When one hunter turns to shout over his shoulder, Keena can see that his hair is held with hide thongs decorated with ivory — from mammoth tusks, she guesses. One especially muscular hunter wears his hair high on his head in a topknot circled by an ivory ring threaded with sinew.

  “We won’t have to worry about Haken anymore.” Shinoni wraps her long legs around another limb, trying to keep her balance.

  “Why?” Keena squeaks. She clutches the tree trunk with both arms and legs.

  “We ruined their hunt, so these hunters will kill us.” Shinoni’s eyes are wide with fear.

  Keena’s jaw drops. “Maybe not,” she says hopefully.

  The brawny and fierce mammoth hunters stretch out their hands to Shinoni and Keena in a pleading motion. They fall on their knees under the tree and place their foreheads to the ground, chanting singsong words over and over. “Aaaoooiiii aaaeetee. Aaaoooiiii aaaeeteetii.”

  “What are they saying?” Keena asks. “They look like your people, but their words are different.”

  “They are Kulas. Their language is a bit different from my people’s, but close enough for me to understand. They think we’re spirits, Krag. They think the Earth Spirit sent us to guard the mammoth clan.”