Chapter 9:No Smokep. 68Winter seemed far away in the days that followed. The weather was bright and sunny, even warm in the middle of the day, though the cold came quickly at sunset. They were following the course of a stream down from the mountains. Sometimes, standing on a high point of rock, they could see water leaping down the mountainside, springing from rock to rock in a turmoil of white foam, to join the Winding River on the plain below. And there below, like another river, a brown river moving slowly across the plain, were the deer, traveling west like the people. Only there were no other people to be seen. They were still on Sovi's trail, finding his camp sites and signals, but the trail grew colder every day. Sovi was moving away faster than they could travel. Even when they stood in a high place overlooking the plain and scanned the trail until it disappeared behind the next range of hills, there was no sign of Sovi's group, nor of any other people, and no answering smoke at dusk when they lit their camp fire, So the knowledge that they were late gnawed at the back of the adults' minds. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 69 The children clambered about the hillsides, searching out grassy patches where mushrooms and toadstools sprang up in big clusters overnight. They filled baskets and made a feast of them, eating handfuls raw or grilling them on sticks over the fire. The rivers brimmed with fish, and Otak grew more skillful at spearing them. Vorka gradually recovered his spirits and began to eat and talk, but he could not hunt, nor even do much to help put up a shelter. With Vorka's injury and Tikek's tiredness and the demands of the baby, they progressed slowly. They knew that unless Sovi had decided to wait for them, they would not see smoke from another fire until they reached the autumn hunting grounds. "He would be unwise to wait for us," Old Mother said. Maroo knew she was right. To survive one must be ruthless, or risk the loss of many more people. By the time they reached the plain, the weather had changed. The days were gray and darkness came early. Once a flurry of snowflakes reminded them of the danger they were in. It was as if winter were a giant striding behind them, his shadow already looming. They traveled as fast as they could, stopping only at dusk to eat, and setting off the next day as soon as it was light enough to see. For shelter at night they used crevices, rocks, or bushes, and one night they simply scraped a hollow in the ground and huddled --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 70 under the skins and furs. Last winter Tikek had made ready for the baby a little fur jacket and hood. Wrapped in this and carried tucked inside her fur jacket, he stayed warm and safe. The deer flowed by on either side of the Winding River. All day, every day, they passed inexorably along their ancient trail, each animal's hooves making a brisk snapping sound that became a great clamor as the hordes passed by. They moved slowly; like the people, they were seeking out mushrooms in the damp places. Vorka watched them in deep frustration. Here was meat for the taking, and he was unable to hunt. Otak and Rivo became hunters of small game. Once Otak killed a lemming with his sling, and sometimes he speared fish, but more often Rivo would catch hares or marmots and bring them to Otak. Otak always warded him with a share of the catch, no matter how small it was or how many people it had to feed; he knew it was worthwhile training the dog to hunt with him. Sometimes Rivo would go off on a hunt of his own, bringing nothing back, yet showing no signs of hunger. Once he disappeared for nearly two days, and the children were sure they had lost him, but at dusk on the second day he trotted into their camp and lay down by the fire as if he had never left it. "He knows he belongs to our hearth," Otak said. They were not the only hunters on the move. Often they saw packs of dogs running alongside the deer, frying to isolate a weak animal. When Rivo, heard the --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 71 dogs, his ears would lift and his whole body quiver. Maroo and Otak kept a dose hold on him at these times. They were afraid that he would go back to the wild if he met up with his own kind. Once they saw the dogs make a kill. A young deer was separated from its mother and ran off, terrified, in the wrong direction, away from the herd. The dogs bounded after it and soon ran it down. The children saw the leader spring and heard the deer scream as it fell. The screams stopped when the dogs closed in and tore it to pieces. Maroo and Otak had watched with interest, impressed by the dogs' tactics. Otak said, "We should have taken that meat. We could have driven off the dogs." "With fire?" "Yes." But the chance did not come again, and they lived mainly on roots and fungi, and the occasional small animal. The Great Plain seemed endless, and they were utterly alone, except for the deer and the creatures that hunted them. The moon had been newborn when they left the cliff where Areg died, and it was new again when the first snow came. The night before there had been no sign of the moon nor of any stars; all after- noon the sky had been heavy with unshed snow. They camped, at Old Mother's insistence, in a sheltered space between some large boulders, using deerskins --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 72 as roof cover, When Maroo looked out in the morning, it was to a white world. The sun, swollen to monstrous size, had turned red and hung low in the sky. Its light made the snow crystals glitter with specks of rainbow color. Maroo felt the firm surface of the snow with her finger; she pressed, and it crumpled downward, The snow near the entrance was pure, with not a dent upon it except Maroo's fingerprint, but only a spear throw away it had been trampled by a trail of hooves. The deer were passing slowly, searching for food. Maroo saw one animal stop and paw at the snow until it had cleared a grassy patch, where it began foraging for mushrooms. The deer's coat looked dark against the blinding snow; its warm breath hung on the icy air in a cloud. The snow was not deep, but later that day it snowed again, driving them to seek shelter early. Nimai cried; she hated the snow in her face, so Maroo had to carry her. They saw the dog pack again, a little way ahead of them, nipping and worrying at the deer, this time without success. Next morning it was still snowing, and they stayed late in their shelter until it stopped. By the following day the snow was thawing and the ground was wet and slushy, showing big patches of green. That was the day Maroo saw the ptarmigan. The birds were up on the slope above the overhang where the family was camped, pecking at leaves and berries among the short --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 73 grass. A few were still flecked with theft gray autumn plumage, but others were almost completely white. Maroo signaled to Otak. He came with his sling and crept cautiously toward the flock. Maroo watched him, if Meg had been alive, if Vorka had been uninjured, she thought, there might have been three or four birds roasting over the fire tonight; but at least there was a chance of one. Otak's sling was made of a forked antler tine and a strip of well-chewed stretchy hide. He fitted a pebble into the hide, drew it slowly back, and let go. The stone sang. The birds erupted into flight, loud, clapping wingbeats taking them rapidly aloft; the air was full of their crackling cries. Otak leaped and waved the sling: one bird was down. Maroo climbed up to the grassy ledge. The bird lay stunned, It was a male: pure white except for his scarlet eyebrow feathers and a black border around his tail. Otak killed the bird with a stone and carried it proudly to the hearth place. The two women and Vorka praised him. Maroo plucked the bird, saving the feathers. The larger ones might decorate a headdress, and the soft ones would make the stuffing for a doll for Nimai. Old Mother gutted the ptarmigan, stuffed it with nuts and mushrooms, and wrapped it in leaves to roast in the fire. It was little enough to share among all of them that evening, but welcome. They took off their sodden boots and dried them around the fire. Otak's --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 74 feet were painfully cold, and Old Mother found that one of his toes was almost frozen, She chafed it back to life, tut-tutting at him for not having complained before. "A little longer, and you would have lost that toe, and before long, your foot," she said, and told them all a cautionary tale of a boy who had walked till his feet were frozen and had died as a result. Otak and Maroo exchanged a glance and smile behind her back; they had heard all Old Mother's warnings many times. Before they reached the White Mountain, the first blizzard came, Old Mother predicted it the night be- fore, when they heard the wind screaming past their shelter and felt the icy sting of the air. She and Tikek went out after dark and laid extra stones around the edges of the skin covering and tied down loose flapping ends. All night the shelter tugged and strained at its anchorages as if it longed to join the wild racing of the wind. By morning the blizzard had begun. The wind shrieked, drowning their voices as they struggled to dismantle the shelter. Tikek had wanted to stay, but Old Mother refused. They must keep moving, she said; the blizzards would only get worse. There was an outcrop of rock half a day's walk away, and Old Mother planned to bring them to it by nightfall. Maroo knew the place: it was large enough to provide shelter from the wind, but a tiny landmark in the vastness of --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 75 the plain. How would they ever find it in the blizzard? "We may not find it," Old Mother admitted, "but we will try." The rocks were due west. There was no sun, nothing to guide them except a natural sense of direction. Old Mother's instinct was particularly sure. She led the way. That day was the longest Maroo had ever endured. Hour after hour they trudged slowly on with the bitter snow-laden wind stinging their faces and slicing through their heavy clothes. Maroo, her back and arms aching from carrying Nimai, was scarcely conscious of anything but the need to go on, one foot after the other, over and over again, until they stopped in numb weariness. There was no sheltered place to light a fire, so they ate cold dried meat and drank melted snow. Hunger was their only guide to the passage of time. Maroo did not know how long they had been walking when she put Nimai down to rest her arms and asked Old Mother if they could have missed the rocks. Old Mother had stopped too, to concentrate on renewing her sense of direction and time. "I think we are near the place," she said. She took off her backpack and gave it to Maroo. "You take this for a while," she said. "I will carry Nimai." Maroo gratefully took up the less awkward weight of the pack. The family drew together again with old --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 76 Mother in the lead and Vorka at the rear. Maroo and Otak were in the middle. Rivo trotted beside Otak. Maroo, squinting through half-closed eyes, saw nothing but whirling snowflakes, but before they had gone much farther she heard a shout from Old Mother: "I see the rocks!" A few steps on, and Maroo saw them too: the shape was familiar to her, for she had often camped by these rocks before, but never in such bad weather. The place was simply a pile of large boulders standing the height of two men, with a few wind-cropped trees growing nearby. The family walked around the rocks until they reached the sheltered side. At once the battering of snow and wind was cut off; the relief was enormous. Maroo, slipping the pack from her shoulders, felt that she could not have walked another step. There was a large crevice between two of the boulders which would serve as a shelter for the night, but a wedge of sky showed at the top; the space would have to be roofed with skins. Otak and Maroo climbed up the rocks and stretched a hide across the gap, weighting it down with stones that Tikek and Old Mother found and passed up to them. The wind was so fierce on top of the rocks that they were almost blown off, and the hide kept flapping back over theft faces, but at last they got the stones in place. With the roof made, everyone crowded into the small space, --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 77 and Old Mother unrolled another hide and pulled it over them to serve as a makeshift doorway. It was a cold, comfortless shelter without fire or space to move. All night they sat huddled together for warmth; no one slept much except the baby and Rivo. Toward morning Maroo dozed off, wedged between Otak and Old Mother. She woke cold and stiff, to find that part of the roof cover had blown away and her jacket was encrusted with snow. Looking up, she saw that it was day. The snowstorm still raged, as savage as ever. To her shame, she felt herself beginning to cry. "I can't bear another day like yesterday," she sobbed as Old Mother began sharing out the dried meat, giving a piece to everyone, even the dog. "If today is like yesterday," Old Mother said, "we will have to stop and build a snow house until the blizzard is over." She looked around at the circle of cold, pinched faces, red-eyed from lack of sleep. "But if we can find the strength, we should walk for one more day." Maroo sniffed. "Why can't we build a snow house now?" "Listen," Old Mother said kindly, patting her shoulder, "if we stop, we may never move again. We have hardly any food left. We can't hunt in the storm. Once we stop, our only hope will be that the storms --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 78 will end before we starve to death. I want to bring us as far as possible on our way before we give in to the blizzard. Do you understand now?" Maroo wiped her face with her gloved hand. "Yes," she said humbly. The family were ready to go. Tikek tucked the baby snugly inside her jacket and took up her bundle. Vorka and Otak lifted theft loads. Maroo hoisted Nimai onto her shoulders and stepped out into the tearing wind. That day the sky never lightened, and the thick flurrying snowflakes never ceased to fall. It was worse than the day before; they were hungrier, less hopeful, and exhausted from lack of sleep. Maroo had lost all sense of direction; she stumbled on, head bent against the knife-edge wind, following the small, hunched shape of her grandmother trudging ahead. They stopped once, to melt snow under their jackets and drink it, chew a small piece of meat each, stamp their frozen feet, and brush the snow from the wolverine fur that framed their faces. Then the long march began again. As the sky darkened in the afternoon, the shrieking of the wind grew louder. The snow flying into their faces came faster and harder. At last, when she thought she could not take another step, Maroo saw Old Mother halt. The family crowded around. Old Mother brushed the snow from her hood. She --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 79 was so cold that her jaw had gone rigid, and at first she could not speak. She took off a mitten and rubbed her face until the muscles relaxed. Then she said what they all expected "We must stop now and build a snow house and wait until the blizzard is over." --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 80 Chapter 10:Old Mother's DecisionMaroo had never needed to make a snow house before, but all the children had been taught how to do it and had practiced by making tiny houses for their dolls in the snow outside the winter cave. Now the family worked quickly, in spite of fatigue. Old Mother and the children cut and shaped the blocks, and Tikek and Vorka built them up and sealed the joints. Gradually they curved the walls inward to make a low domed house similar in shape to the huts they made from branches in summer, but much more solid. When the round shape was finished, they built an entrance tunnel with a bend in it to keep out drafts. Then they crawled in, one after the other, and Old Mother made new fire. She twirled the bow-drill in its groove until a wisp of smoke came that could be fed with dry tinder from her pouch. She built up the fire with twigs and bones. The flames grew, sending huge shadows leaping around the white walls. Tikek began to unpack the hides and furs and spread them around the sides of the hut Old Mother sat down on --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 81 them with a groan, joking about the pain in her old bones, but Maroo knew the pain was real; she had never seen her grandmother look so old and tired before. Tikek gave out the food, a handful of nuts and roots each, and some raw mushrooms. They ate ravenously, and Nimai cried for more. Old Mother went to her pack and took out a few slivers of dried meat, "This is the last," she said solemnly, "but we will eat now and live, and trust that the Deer Spirit will bring us good hunting." They shared out the meat and ate it, and drank melted snow. By this time the temperature in the snow house had risen, and Maroo was glowing with a warmth she had not felt since the brief summer. She basked in the warmth and felt her muscles lose their tension; she took off her soaked boots and clothes and put them to steam by the fire. "I wish we could stay here," she said. "If the blizzards go on, we may stay here forever," Old Mother said grimly. For two days the blizzard roared, and they did not leave the snow house. There was nothing to eat; Nimai cried continually, and Maroo felt dizzy with hunger. Only the baby thrived. On the second day, when Nimai woke crying, Old Mother gave her a root to chew. Maroo's stomach was jealous, but, unlike Nimai, she understood that there was no food. Nimai sucked ravenously at the root. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 82 Rivo twice attempted to go out and hunt, but each time the blizzard drove him back. He grew wild-eyed and snappish, and Tikek was afraid he might attack Nimai. She made Maroo and Otak tie him to the heavy bundle of hides in the entrance tunnel. For a while Rivo dragged at the rope and gnawed the hides, but weakness gradually overcame him and he lay dozing with his nose on his paws. The snow house was warm, and they slept much of the time. When the hunger pains became too bad for sleep, they squatted around the fire, feeding it with the last of their store of wood, and drinking melted snow. On the third day when Maroo woke she was surprised to see that Old Mother was still asleep. But Otak was stirring. "Let's look at the morning," he said. They put on their jackets and boots and crawled out, blinking. The blizzard had gone, leaving clear, bright daylight. They stood up and looked around. Birds' claw prints and the track of a hare crossed the snow. A little way off, the hare's prints ended in a scuffle. There were no other prints- an owl had taken it, Maroo guessed. Raising her eyes higher, she saw the grazing deer, the river, and the distant hills. "Otak!" she said. "Look!" She pointed at the horizon, which showed clearly the long familiar shape of the White Mountain. It was not one peak, but a long range, its length making the summit look deceptively low. Against the pale sky the --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 83 snow-covered heights looked impassable to Maroo; it was hard to believe there was ever a trail across them. Otak, in spite of two days without food, jumped up and down. The end of their journey was now in sight. He called out, "Mother! Old Mother! Vorka! Come and see" Vorka and Tikek came out. They were relieved to see the White Mountain, but Tikek was still anxious. Burdened as they were, it might be nearly half a moon's journey in bad weather around the foothills of the White Mountain. Old Mother came out last. Maroo noticed that she was pale and moved stiffly. Tikek took her by the arm. "See, Old Mother, how near we are. The White Mountain is no more than a day's walk from here." But Old Mother shook her head. "We may reach the White Mountain, but we will never reach the hunting grounds now. Winter has overtaken us. We are too late," she said. In the silence that followed these words they all heard the screams of an animal in pain. It came from the fringe of the herd of reindeer. They saw dark shapes flying past and heard the scream come once more: the dogs had caught a deer. At once Maroo and Otak remembered their plan. Maroo caught Rivo and tied him up in the snow house. Otak ran and fetched two torches and plunged them into the fire. The ends had been coated with pitch, which flared up and burned steadily. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 84 "Come!" Otak called. "Bring knives. We'll get a deer!" Old Mother stayed in the snow house with Nimai and the baby, but the others raced across the plain to the place where the dogs were ripping at the deer's carcass. The torches trailed plumes of smoke as they ran; Otak held one and Maroo the other. There were six dogs. They looked up and snarled menacingly from bloodstained muzzles as the children approached. "Go! Go!" Maroo shouted, brandishing the burning torch at the nearest dog. It flinched, but came back growling. One dog began to drag away the deer's haunches, which had been torn off. Another leaped at Otak's torch, near his hands, where there was no fire, and clamped its teeth on it. Maroo thrust her blazing torch toward the animal; it let go and fell back, whimpering. Before it could recover she lunged at it again, and it turned tail and fled. Another dog followed it. Otak ran, shouting fiercely, after the dog that had taken some of the meat, while Maroo thrust fire at the other three, who were darting in and ripping at the deer. Maroo sprang forward, straddled the remains of the dead animal, and beat back every attempt by the dogs to touch it. At last they sensed that they were beaten; they turned, whining, and trotted away. Maroo yelled in triumph and chased them across the blood-trampled snow. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 85 Otak came back, dragging the mangled haunches. Tikek and Vorka ran forward with knives, and soon the meat was cut up and taken back to the snow house, where Old Mother was building up the fire. Much later, when some of the meat had been eaten and everyone was full and warm, Old Mother said, "That was done well, children, You have saved all our lives." Maroo glowed with pleasure. Old Mother looked stronger now. Her eyes were bright again. "We can go on now for a little while," she said, "but the meat will not last long, and we will die if we follow the trail around the White Mountain." "I can get meat again!" Otak insisted confidently. "No," Old Mother said, "We will not often he so lucky. But you have shown that you are quick-thinking and strong, you and your sister. I have a plan. The trail around the White Mountain is too far, but there is a trail over the top of the mountain, though it is many years since anyone followed it." Maroo heard her mother draw in her breath as if to speak, and then keep silence at a glance from Old Mother. "The trail is a hard one," Old Mother continued. "There are glaciers and steep climbs, and---" "The mountain spirits," Maroo said, wide-eyed, more to herself than Old Mother. "The mountain spirits," Old Mother agreed. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 86 "Offerings will need to be made. Now, listen I am an old woman and my legs are stiff; Vorka is injured, and your mother has the baby and Nimai; all this would delay us. Only two people are young and strong enough to cross the mountain: you and Otak." At this Vorka gasped in amazement and Tikek cried out, "No! Not alone!" "Maroo and Otak must go alone and fetch help," Old Mother insisted, "or we shall all die." Tikek looked horrified, Old Mother made with her hands the sign that meant, "There is no choice," but Vorka exclaimed passionately, "There is no need for me to stay here, Old Mother! The bones have set. I can use my arm. If anyone goes alone, it should be me." "Your arm is still weak, Vorka," Old Mother said gently. "You can't hunt - not well enough to be sure of surviving." Vorka pulled up his sleeve and showed how he could move the arm. But Maroo saw that the muscles were wasted, and she knew that he could not yet use his spear or harpoon. Vorka hushed. "Then let me take the boy," he said, "You can't send the children alone. Let me take Otak. He can hunt well." "Yes, let me go! I'm not afraid!" Otak exclaimed eagerly. Tikek turned on her son like a wild animal, tears --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 87 rolling down her face. "Be quiet!" she shouted. "Don't talk such nonsense. I won't let you go!" She spoke furiously to Old Mother: "I have lost Areg. Must I lose my children too?" Old Mother tried to comfort her. "We have to make a choice, Tikek. Only the Great Mother knows which is the right choice. I am telling you what I think is wisest. Vorka can't use his spear, but perhaps he can get food. If he can, we need him here to help us." She turned to Vorka: "You would not leave women and children alone and unprotected on the plain?" Vorka sighed and looked away with a gesture of resignation. Tikek sobbed quietly. Maroo sat close to her mother. "Don't be afraid. I'll take care of Otak," she said. Otak himself seemed unaware of his mother's distress. His face was alight. "I shall hunt," he said. "Hares, and lemmings - maybe even a lion. "No!" said Old Mother sharply. "There must be no foolishness. You must go cautiously. If one of you is injured or lost, the other must leave him or her and go on alone, One must survive. Do you understand?" "Yes," both children said. Otak was quiet now, in awe of Old Mother. Maroo looked around at the family. Tikek's tears and Old Mother's solemn words were frightening, but when she caught Otak's eye and saw the suppressed excitement in him, she knew that underneath her fear --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 88 she felt the same. Spirits, lions, glaciers --she would rather face any danger than stay in the snow house waiting for rescue. Already she longed to be on her way. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- p. 89 Chapter 11:The White MountainOtak and Maroo sat with Old Mother on the sleepingbench, listening as she told them how to find the trail across the White Mountain, scratching symbols in the ice and making them memorize the route, step by step. She warned them again and again to be careful on the glacier, to make offerings to the mountain spirits before they attempted to cross it, to feel ahead with a staff before putting a foot down, above all to go slowly. The plateau at the top of the glacier, she said, would be colder than anything they had ever known; they might need to build a snow house to survive the night. After that, a day's walk should bring them to the Pass of the Spirits. There was a great cave above the pass. "You will he afraid when you reach the cave," Old Mother said, and Maroo felt a prickle of fear at her back already, as if the mountain had reached out to her. "Don't linger there. Beyond the cave you will be on the eastern slope of the mountain, and when you look down you will see the Crossing Place." "Can we take Rivo?" Otak asked. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 90 All this time Rivo had been lying asleep between the two children, his muzzle on Maroo's knee. No one had thought about him until now. Old Mother considered. "Yes," she said at last, "you must take him." The children smiled at each other. "If he stays here he will eat precious food, but if you take him he can hunt for himself. And if you find yourselves starving, you must kill him and eat him." Maroo and Otak exclaimed together, "No!" but Old Mother said sternly, "You must be prepared for this. If you need to kill the dog to survive, you must kill him. It will be better to kill him than to take risks hunting larger animals." Otak nodded; he knew this caution was meant for him. "And now," said Old Mother, "the most important thing of all, Otak. Maroo is your leader; you must obey her." Otak looked sulky. "I have chosen Maroo as leader because she is the elder and also because I can trust her to be sensible and cautious," Old Mother said. "The mountain is dangerous. You must cross it softly and quickly, like the hare on new snow, before it feels that you are there." Maroo was apprehensive, not only at the prospect of leading the journey, but also at the thought of controlling Otak. Would he obey her? He could be so --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 91 silly. She began almost to wish they were not going alone. Later Old Mother told them all a story, the one that explained how the moon and stars were made, and Maroo forgot her worries for a while. "You must remember the songs and stories," Old Mother said afterward. "Stories give you hope, even when the worst comes. A man might have a sharp spear and a full belly, but if he has lost hope, he will die. Now, let us divide the meat." They still had most of the meat they had cut from the deer, Old Mother gave only a little to Manor, and Otak to carry with them, and kept the rest for the family, who would be waiting in the snow house. Tikek and Vorka both protested. They wanted to give the children more of the meat, but Old Mother said, "No. We must stay here, and this meat must last us many days. The children can hunt and forage. You and the baby and little Nimai must survive." It was a hard decision, but they all knew in their hearts that it was right. When Otak and Maroo had put away their share of the meat in a skin bag, Old Mother looked at what remained and held up her wrinkled hands if they ate just enough to keep them from starving, she said, there was enough meat left to last them as many days as the fingers on both hands. That should give time for Maroo and Otak to reach the autumn camp and send rescuers to the snow house. But if anything, weather --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 92 or accident, delayed the children, the family might starve before help arrived. Her grandmother did not speak of it, but Maroo knew that if the meat was running out and no help was in sight, Old Mother would leave the snow house and walk away across the plain until she died of cold or was killed by hungry animals, leaving one less month to feed. And that decision, too, would be right, but Maroo did not want to think about it. Otak carried, besides the bundle of furs on his back, his spear, staff, bolas, sling, and knives of different kinds. Maroo carried her staff and knives and also part of the fire from the snow house, smoldering inside a horn slung from her belt, Old Mother had captured the fire and had spoken spells over it that would keep the children safe. Maroo carried her own fire-making tools, but she was glad to be given part of Old Mother's fire; she knew it would be a good magic to have with her. It was time to part. Old Mother made a drink of hot herb-flavored water, and they passed it around from one to another. They hugged each other and spoke confidently of meeting soon when Otak and Maroo brought help, but Maroo could see that the adults did not feel as confident as they sounded. She was glad at last to be trudging away from the snow house with Otak and the dog and looking back to wave, because the unspoken fears of the adults made her feel uneasy. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 93 Each time they looked back, the snow house seemed smaller. At last it was invisible, blended with the snowy plain, and only the tiny waving dots beside it marked where it was. Even so, Maroo and Otak were not afraid of being unable to find it again. They were accustomed to noticing every landmark, even on a plain empty except for rocks and stones and a few stunted shrubs. More snow might cover up their own tracks, but they would still be able to lead the rescuers to the tiny snow house. They walked fast all day, happy and excited. Rivo scampered around them, and they threw a bone for him to chase and bring back. The White Mountain grew steadily nearer, and it was good to be able to walk swiftly toward it, without the crying of Nimai and the slow pace of the women. Tikek had said that the White Mountain was a day's journey away, but despite their late start the children reached its lower slopes long before nightfall and decided to climb up to a small plateau they could see above them, near the foot of the huge glacier. Old Mother had described it to them as a good place to make camp. The ascent was easy enough at first. The path they were to follow led up beside a little stony stream that came clattering down from the edge of the melting ice. They had no choice but to stay close to the stream, for on either side was a thick tangled growth of stunted willows and creepers, difficult to walk through. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 94 There were many small streams crisscrossing the rough ground, joining together and growing bigger as they ran down the mountainside. Some were so small that they could be stepped over. For the others, Maroo would look for an easy crossing place, with large, fiat stones in the water. Sometimes they slipped; then, even through their boots, the water sent an icy shock to the stomach. As they rose higher above the plain, the streams became smaller and more numerous, and there was a sharp new cold in the air. The ascent grew steeper all the time, and they tired quickly. The sun had begun to dip, and Manor, was feeling that she could walk no farther, when they reached the plateau. They threw themselves down on the ground and leaned on their packs. Maroo scooped up water in a hollow horn, and they drank from it in turn. Maroo looked down at the plain far below. The low sun had turned it into a place of shadowy hollows and sparkling mounds. Every clump of willow or birch stood out crisply and threw a long dark shadow. In the distance, on the far side of the river, a brown line was moving: deer, or was it bison? Deer: a pair of proud antlers had showed briefly against the sky. Far beyond the deer a great lake flashed fire at the sun. Maroo tried to find the snow house. She followed with her eyes the trail she and Otak had made, back and back across the plain, but it became impossible to --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 95 see, and she had to look for landmarks: clumps of trees or rocks. She found the spot where she thought the snow house must be, but could not see it. Then, just as she was about to give up and ease her aching eyes, she saw what she was looking for: a tiny column of smoke rising from behind a clump of dwarf birch. It looked indescribably far away, and as she pointed it out to her brother she felt, for the first time that day, lonely and a little afraid. She looked behind her. Above their camp soared the glacier they must cross tomorrow. Half of it was blinding bright, the other half blue in the shadow of a peak. It was wide and trackless, yet Maroo could see that there was only one way to go: up to a pass on the horizon between two sharp peaks. But now they had to make camp for the night. Otak gathered twigs for firewood, and Maroo blew Old Mother's fire gently back to life. They made a ring of stones and sheltered the fire with their bodies until it was red and crackling. Maroo watched it lovingly; it was her first hearth-place. Old Mother had said there was an overhanging rock at the back of the plateau where they could shelter at night. Maroo found it and began to arrange the furs inside. They both went into their shelter and shared some of the meat, while the sun was swallowed by the approaching night and the plain below grew dark. Now the smoke from the snow house was gone, and --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 96 they were quite alone. Maroo sensed the spirit of the mountain all around them. What were spirits? Why was the mountain hostile to people? The unanswerable questions made her more afraid. "Let's go to sleep," she whispered. Otak nodded, She saw that he, too, was afraid, but trying not to show it. They crawled under the rock and huddled close together for warmth. Rivo blocked the entrance with his body. The night wind woke, and they heard spirit voices in it. Neither could sleep. They lay awake, whispering. Yet for all their fear of the night, they were not afraid of the journey ahead, and never doubted that they would survive it. To banish the night fears they talked of the autumn hunting on the banks of the Great River, and of the friends they would meet there. There would he dancing and feasting if the hunting was good, which it could hardly fail to be with the deer passing in an endless stream along the trail so that a man could scarcely miss. Otak, filled with the importance of their mission, whispered, "I shall he a hunter soon. Maybe next winter or the one after." Maroo laughed. "You're far too young! You'll have to wait several winters, till you are as old as I am, or more. Even I would be too young." It was Otak's turn to be superior. "You! You will never be a hunter. You will never see the deep caves.' --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 97 He had touched on a subject that Maroo had always been curious about. She dropped her quarrelsome tone and whispered, "What do you have to do to become a hunter?" "You know it's all secret." "But you must have heard something." Otak's voice, next to her ear, said softly, 'It's to do with bulls and horses and the secret pictures in the deep caves." "Do you have to kill a bull?" "I don't think so. It's something even more frightening than that." "How could anything be more frightening than that?" "I don't know, but that's what they say." They stopped whispering, but Maroo could tell from Otak's breathing that he was still awake, probably thinking about the ordeal of becoming a hunter. That part of the winter caves, the deep mysterious hunters' sanctuaries, was unknown to her and always would be. Her life lay in the outer caves, around the hearth-place. The rituals of birth and death would be the mysteries she would be admitted to, and from which Otak would be excluded. And the dances . . . Maroo squirmed down further into her furs and thought about the dances: some, like the Sun Dance, were danced by the whole tribe, even the toddlers, and some were hunters' dances; but --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 98 many belonged solely to the women and girls. She began thinking herself through the intricate movements of the Grass Dance. Somewhere far down on the dark plain along, rising howl broke the stillness of the night. A wolf, Maroo thought. Rivo woke and whined softly. Maroo patted his head; his rough fur comforted her. The night was cruel, but she knew they would be safe in the shelter till morning. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 99 Chapter 12:The GlacierThe glacier looked a smooth slate-blue in the dawnlight. Maroo led the way, using her staff to prod the snow ahead of her before she set foot on it. She knew how unstable the glacier was; there could be vast crevasses under the firm-seeming snow. "You must hold on to Rivo, and follow exactly in my footsteps," she told Otak. The snow at the edge of the glacier was not so smooth as it looked; it was soft and powdery, dissolving under their feet to join the streams running down the mountain. As they moved on, it became firmer, but when Maroo looked back she saw their footprints like a row of small wells that would soon freeze over. They went on, Maroo still moving ahead with her staff, prodding the snow to make sure it was firm. The snow was no longer soft and wet; it had hardened to a solid crust, or so it seemed, but they knew that the ice that looked so firm was slowly moving. As they trekked in a long diagonal across the face of the glacier, Otak and Rivo followed obediently in --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 100 Maroo's footsteps. Rivo sniffed and whined at the tracks of a hare, and Otak wanted to follow them, but Maroo said no, there could be no hunting until they were on firmer ground. To her relief, Otak obeyed after a moment's hesitation, pulling the dog's lead tight and plodding reluctantly along behind Maroo. By midday they were more than halfway to the pass between the two peaks that Maroo had seen from far below. She began to feel confident that they would soon be safe. Both she and Otak were hungry, but they would not stop to eat until they were across the glacier. Maroo looked up and saw the pass easily within reach, though the way up was steeper. She stepped forward, with the staff in her right hand. The snow crumbled a little under her left foot and she felt a jolting movement. Before she could leap away, she was thrown violently sideways, there was a roar of cracking ice, and she felt herself falling. She screamed, clawing at the crumbling snow as she plunged down into a crevasse, an avalanche of snow and ice falling in on top of her. At last it stopped. She lay still, too bruised and exhausted even to open her eyes. A great weight seemed to be pressing her down, urging her to sleep. When she did at last force herself to open her eyes, she moved in sudden panic, realizing that she was buried under the snow and would soon suffocate. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 101 She tried to stand up, but the lower half of her body was trapped. She was not even sure which way was up-perhaps she was standing. Her arms and hands had some movement in them. She began to push up frantically at the snow, which was fast hardening over her. She seemed to be buried up to her neck, and it took all her strength to free the upper half of her body. As she worked, a faint sound came to her from above, At first she did not react to it, absorbed as she was in her fight for life; then the sound penetrated, and she realized it was a voice: her brother's voice, calling her name. Tilling her head back as far as it would go, she squinted up at a patch of bright sky with a silhouette of a head in it. "Otakl" she tried to call, but only a hoarse croak came out. Something else appeared in the patch of blinding sky: something dark hurtling down. Instinctively she cringed, but it was not falling snow, it was a rope of plaited hide. Maroo heaved desperately with her legs, but they would not move. She began to dig with her hands, faster and faster, knowing that soon she would freeze and it would be too late. At last she was able to move part of her legs; then she felt life in one foot. She threw herself sideways and rolled over, freeing one leg and then the other, and ending up kneeling on all fours beside the rope. She crouched there, panting. Her brother was shouting at her from the sky above, --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 102 but the shouting did not seem real; it seemed to come from another world. "The rope!" Otak shouted. "Tie the rope!" With a great effort Maroo shook off her exhaustion. She took hold of the rope and knotted it firmly around her waist. She felt a faint tug from above; was she ready? She doubted if she would have the strength to climb out, but she gave an answering tug on the rope, stood up, and braced herself against the side of the crevasse. The rope went taut. Maroo began to claw her way up the wall of the crevasse, grunting with exertion. Several times the rope slackened, and she heard a cry of alarm from Otak. Otak was so much smaller and lighter than she was-how could he hold her? Her foot slipped, she jerked downward with a gasp of fear, Otak yelled, and she saw him clinging to the edge of the crevasse and heard Rivo barking. In desperation she dug toeholds in the hard snow with her boots and clambered up, releasing the strain on Otak. She looked up and saw the sky growing larger. Otak was there, his face hanging like a moon in the patch of blue, He shouted encouragement, but he looked frightened. Only a little farther now. With what felt like the last of her strength, Maroo dragged herself up until her hands touched his. He seized her wrists. She hauled herself up and out, and lay shaking on the ice. Rivo's wet tongue caressed her face. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 103 When she had recovered enough to raise her head, she saw that Otak had driven his staff deep into the snow and wound the rope round it as well as around his own body to help take the strain. He untied the rope, coiled it neatly, and replaced it in his pack. Then he dropped down beside her, and she realized that they were both overcome with shock. They crouched there, trembling, for some time, too tired to move, till Maroo said shakily, "We must go on -we dare not be trapped here at night." She found her staff lying at the edge of the crevasse and picked it up. They both lifted their packs. Suddenly Otak touched Maroo's arm and pointed upward. There, on the pass between the two peaks, a big buck ibex was standing, quite unafraid, watching them. As they looked up, it turned and vanished over the brow of the hill. Otak fixed wide, frightened eyes on his sister. Maroo felt her heart fluttering. "Was it a spirit?" Otak asked. "Maybe." "Father's spirit?" Maroo's heart beat faster. A vision came into her mind of Areg dead with the heavy stones laid on him to keep his spirit from walking. "No," she said hastily. "Why should his spirit come so far?" "To be with us?" --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 104 "No," Maroo insisted. But Old Mother had said that the mountain was guarded by spirits, and Areg had been killed hunting an ibex. Firmly she put these thoughts out of her mind. "We must go on," she repeated. "Whatever is up there, we must go on now." --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 105 Chapter 13:BlizzardThe ibex had gone; the way ahead was clear. By thecrevasse where she had fallen, Maroo made an offering to the mountain spirits. She tossed into the deep hole some of the precious shells she had found on the beach. The loose snow at the edges crumbled and fell in upon them. For the rest of that day they saw and heard nothing, only the tiring whiteness of the landscape and the rasping of their own breath. There were no more accidents, but by the time they reached the pass between the two peaks at sundown, they felt drained of all strength. Maroo had never been so tired before. The ache in her legs spread up through her entire body, and it was only willpower that kept her going. Even the bruises from her fall were nothing compared with the overwhelming tiredness. When at last they stopped and squatted down to rest, she felt that she would never be able to getup again. The place where they now found themselves was desolate. The deadly cold breath of the glacier blew upon them, and Mason felt the bones of her face --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 106 beginning to ache and her jaw stiffening. How would they keep warm tonight? She looked around. They were on an uneven plateau scattered with rocky ridges. Flat, snow-covered tracks wound between the rocks; they looked like paths, but unlike any paths made by people, they meandered aimlessly, linking and doubling back on each other. Nothing moved in all that empty whiteness, not even a bird. The way they must take led up toward a ridge on the horizon. What had looked like the top of the mountain had been only the first peak; she saw now that they had a long, slow climb ahead of them across rough country toward the high place that Old Mother had called the Pass of the Spirits. A wet touch came on her cheek, another on her mouth: snow was falling again. She looked around for a sheltered place. There were no caves near, and the sky hung heavy with snow. "We must make a snow house," she said. A small moan came from Otak. Maroo saw that he was dropping with weariness. "We must," she insisted. "Can't we camp under that ledge?" he begged, pointing it out, but knowing the answer must be no. Maroo did not bother to answer him. Instead she began shaping the firm snow into rough blocks with her gloved hands. When they were of more or less equal size, she used her stone knife to cut them into perfect blocks. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 107 Otak began laying the foundation ring, but he was tired and worked slowly. Maroo had to stop and help him make a firm seal as he laid on the first block of the second layer. She laid a few more blocks, tilting them inward at just the right angle. Then she went back to her shaping and cutting. "You must help," she chided Otak wearily. But Otak was not listening. He had seen something in the snow just beyond the building. He signaled to her to come and look. Rivo was beside him, sniffing at the ground. There was no doubt about what they saw: the broad print with those rounded pads and deep curving claws. A cave lion. She squatted and sniffed at the spoor. It was fresh, making her pull back instinctively in fear. Rivo whined and his fur lifted. The lion had passed by less than half a day ago, perhaps while they were climbing up to the pass. The depth of the print told them something of the size of the animal. Otak made with his hands the sign that meant "a big one." Maroo nodded. The snow began to fall more heavily, and the lion's prints were obliterated before their eyes. They went back to their building and, in spite of tiredness, finished the snow house quickly. While Otak smoothed off the entrance tunnel, Maroo took kindling from her pack and scraped out the embers of the fire from the horn. The embers were hot, but there was no red glow. She blew gently, as she had seen Old Mother --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 108 do. The red came, but died away before it could ignite the dry wood. She blew again, feeding the sleeping fire with slivers of wood to tempt it into life. In her pack she carried a bow-drill for making new fire, but this was Old Mother's fire, and she wanted to have Old Mother's fire in her own hearth. At last she was rewarded. The wood smoked, then sprang to life. Soon the fire was roaring red, and the snow house grew hot. The children were too tired even to eat. They curled up in their furs with Rivo between them and slept till far into the morning. When Maroo woke and crawled down the entrance tunnel, she knew from the silence that it was still snowing. Outside, snowflakes were flying thickly past; a deep drift was piled up against the side of the snow house, and the sky was heavy. There could he no possibility of leaving the snow house until it stopped: rocks and crevasses would be hidden, and they would never find their way safely across the top of the mountain. Nor could they hope to hunt, though the meat was running low, and so was time. Maroo counted on her fingers: the thumb and forefinger brought them to this shelter, and today would be the second finger. She crawled back inside to tell Otak. For the rest of that day they sat in the snow house and waited for the blizzard to pass. Otak was restless and longed to go out and hunt. Maroo became increasingly stiff; every limb ached, and she realized --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 109 that this was the result of her fall on the glacier. She found that she was covered with blackening bruises. Otak took from his pack the horns of the ibex Are had killed, and wedged them into the snow behind hi sleeping place. Maroo said, "Why did you bring those? They must be heavy." "I wanted to," said Otak. "I shall always take them everywhere I go." His lower lip wobbled, and Maroo said no more. Strange noises penetrated the snow house: win spirits moaned in the entrance tunnel and the smoke hole. They both remembered Old Mother's word about the mountain, how it was dangerous and the: should cross it quickly "before it feels that you are there." And now they were trapped here by the blizzard, and surely the mountain spirits must know it Already they had tried to drag Maroo under the ice. As the day went on, the children became more am more uneasy. Once, when Otak went out to urinate he came back wide-eyed with fright and reported see ing a spirit, a dark slinking shape, on top of the ridge above the snow house. While Maroo tried to reassure him, a terrifying scream came from nearby, followed by scuffling and snarling and a catlike growl. She an Otak clung to each other. Rivo barked and barked. Maroo remembered the cat spirit that had haunted the echoing rock-and the disastrous ibex hunt that --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 110 had happened there. But as they crouched together, quivering with fear, she also remembered Old Mother's advice about stories. "Don't cry," she said to Otak. "I'll tell you a story." And she gave them each, including Rivo, a portion of the deer meat and began the story of the hare who challenged the sun to a race. A day later Maroo's fund of songs and stories was running low and the meat was almost gone. Rivo growled and fretted in the passage, and Otak was whimpering with hunger and boredom. He wanted to go out and hunt. "It's too dangerous," Maroo said patiently, yet again. "You might fall, as I did, or get lost." "I could get a lemming, or a hare. I'm not afraid of the snow." Maroo laughed contemptuously. "Yesterday you were frightened of the wind in the tunnel." "So were you!" "If I was, I didn't show it. I didn't start crying and asking for Mother." Otak's eyes were red. "I hate you," he said. Maroo was sorry, but did not know how to say so. The blizzard was dying down, and she hoped that by tomorrow they could leave the snow house. She thought of that other snow house, two days' walk away on the Great Plain. If only they were all together! She imagined them sitting around her own hearth: Vorka, Tikek, the baby and little Nimai, Old Mother --and --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 111 Areg. She thought longingly of her father, missing his cheerful confidence. If Areg were here, they would not have quarreled; he would have made them laugh. Tears came quickly, and she turned aside so that Otak would not see. He might start crying again too, and then their pretense of courage would be over. She crawled down the entrance tunnel, partly to hide her tears and partly to cheek the weather. The sky was darkening; the wind had dropped and only a few flakes of snow still fell. She came hack, cheered. "It's stopping," she said, "Let's go to sleep now, and be ready to move out at dawn." She fetched clean snow from outside, put it in the bone bowl, and melted it with hot stones from the fire, sprinkling it with a handful of herbs from the pouch hanging from her belt. She handed the drink to Otak, feeling that she had done what Old Mother would have done. When they had drunk, they curled up together and tried to sleep. But Maroo lay awake for a long time, thinking of the way ahead and the Pass of the Spirits. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 112 Chapter 14:Across the PassThe next morning the blizzard had blown itself out.When Maroo crawled out of the entrance tunnel, she saw the snow piled into deep, smooth, glittering drifts. The sun was bright and the snow glare dazzling. Maroo knew that this was a day when a traveler could go snow-blind, but she was determined that they should move. Rivo squirmed out of the tunnel behind her, followed by Otak. The dog charged into the smooth hollow in front of the snow house and rolled over and over. He stood up and shook himself, spraying the children with water. Otak laughed and threw a bone, which sank into the snowdrift beyond. Rivo plunged into the drift to retrieve it. Otak clapped his hands. "He'll make a good hunter's dog." Maroo nodded. Then, "What has he seen?" she asked. Rivo had stiffened, staring at the untouched snow a sling-shot away. They moved closer to him. Otak whispered, "Look!" --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 113 would help shade theft eyes from the brilliant light. The Pass of the Spirits shimmered far ahead, a snow-bright shape against the intensely blue sky. They could not hear to look at it; the air was full of sparkling particles of light. They caught nothing to eat. Several limes Rivo sniffed eagerly, pounced, scuffled, and came up with a vole, which he swallowed. Once they saw a flock of white ptarmigan burrowing for food in a snowdrift, but this time when Otak hurled a stone with his sling he was unlucky, and the whole flock rose crack-crackling into the air. Otak cried with hunger and humiliation. "The mountain hates us," he said. "It won't let me catch food." They walked all day until the sun hung low, and merciful blue shadows softened the gleaming landscape. The shining icecap of the high pass was nearer now; they could reach it before nightfall. The softer light was a relief to theft eyes. They noticed tracks of birds and small animals in the snow, and a larger track coming from behind a rock just ahead of them and going up toward the Pass of the Spirits. When they reached the track, they recognized the prints of the cave lion. The spoor was new. Cautiously Maroo raised her head and looked up toward the pass. Nothing moved, but the way was littered with rocks and hollows. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 115 "It was the same lion," Otak whispered. Maroo agreed. They stopped briefly, and she shared out the last of the meat. "We must get more meat," she said, Otak flushed, thinking of the hare and the ptarmigan. "Rivo and I will hunt tomorrow," he said. After a little while the lion's prints turned aside from the trail they were following and climbed up steeply toward some higher ground where jagged rock teeth broke through the snow. They stared up, but saw no sign of the lion. The sun disappeared behind the high peak. The air grew cold and the wind strengthened. The Pass of the Spirits was now much nearer. They saw the way they would have to go, between a steep drop on one side and a towering wall of rock, almost the highest point of the ridge, on the other. A dark cave gaped in the rock like an open mouth, the cave Old Mother had told them about. "Is that where the spirits live?" Otak whispered. "I don't know," Maroo tried to sound indifferent, but she was desperately afraid of that black open mouth. Otak chattered to hide his fear. "Perhaps it's the lion's cave. Is the lion a spirit?" "I don't know," Maroo repeated irritably. She was hungry and afraid and did not want to talk. The great outcrop of rock cast the mountainside into deep shadow, and they shivered with cold and fear. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 116 Rivo seemed to sense the atmosphere of the place; he whined and clung close to Otak's legs. All the time as they climbed up the increasingly narrow path, Otak and Maroo were glancing around warily for the lion. Maroo seemed to feel it behind her back, crouched on a high rock, ready to spring, but when she turned around there was never anything there. They were approaching the pass itself, the narrow rock path between the steep drop and the cave. The cave was vast. More than ever Maroo felt that it was the great black mouth of the mountain itself threatening to swallow her up. It was dark in the pass, and their footsteps echoed. Rivo's fur stood on end and Otak had to jerk the lead to make him go forward. The cave gaped directly above them now. Its floor was level with their shoulders, and they could see in the entrance a scattering of bones, bat droppings, and tumbled stones. The depths of the cave were in darkness, but out of them rose a smell that made Rivo whine plaintively and Maroo feel suffocated with fear. It was a musty odor of bats and owls, and the piled feathers, droppings, and bones of countless generations of animals. Overlaying all this was the powerful scent of lion. Both children stopped when the smell reached them, paralyzed by fear as if the lion were there, in the cave mouth, watching them. At any moment Maroo expected to hear its deep-throated roar-from behind, --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 117 from above, from deep in the cave. Where was the lion? Her mouth felt dry, and she found she could not speak. She seized Otak's arm and urged him forward. Rivo pulled back on his lead. Maroo took the lead from Otak and walked on, dragging the unwilling dog. They walked as fast as they dared on the narrow path, all the time glancing up at the cave where the lion might suddenly appear and trying not to breathe the panic-making smell. At last the cave mouth was behind them. The air smelled sweet again. The path grew wider and opened out onto a broad hillside. It was not yet dark. Maroo felt her fear ebbing away. She leaned against a rock and took off her pack. Otak said, "This is almost the top of the world." They turned all around. Below them in every direction were snow-covered mountaintops broken by gray rock. To the north the spine of the mountain range could be seen winding away; to the west, far down on the plain, lit by the sun's last rays, the Great River flowed in a series of shining lakes. The crossing place and the autumn camp were hidden by the mountain, but beyond it they could see the earth alive with a rippling movement of deer. Old Mother had said that from this point the way was downhill and less dangerous than the ascent. "We can be down and reach the camp by dusk tomorrow, maybe sooner," Maroo said. She counted on --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 118 her fingers. They would reach the family in time -- just in time, if all went well. As if in warning, a snowflake landed on her cheek and melted. The sky looked heavy. "Don't let there be more snow," she prayed. "I'm hungry," Otak said. Maroo became aware of the gnawing pain in her own stomach now that fear had subsided. "We'll hunt tomorrow," she said. "We must make camp now. It is going to snow. We'll go down there, in that tiny cave between the rocks." It was not a true cave, but a shelter created by leaning piles of rock. They squeezed in. The space stank of fox, but they did not care. Fire was needed, Maroo saw some bushes in a sheltered place lower down the hillside. "You go and fetch firewood," she said. "I'll unpack the furs." Otak put down his bundle, propped his spear against the rock, and went off. Maroo untied the bundles and began laying the furs inside the shelter. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a movement. She swung around, her heart leaping. But it was not the lion. It was a hare, looking at her with bulging wild eyes and gathering its muscles to spring. The three moved together: Rivo, the hare, and Maroo, who seized Otak's spear and hurled it at the leaping hare. The spear hummed and struck. Maroo could scarcely --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 119 believe it. Rivo rushed to retrieve the hare, which was kicking feebly. Maroo ran after him and picked up the spear. She had never killed with a spear before. And the hare, which had magically appeared so near -- surely the mountain spirits must have sent it? They went back to the shelter, Rivo with the hare dangling from his mouth and Maroo with the blood-stained spear. Otak stood there staring, the bundle of sticks at his feet. Maroo exclaimed, "Otak! We have meat! The spirit sent a hare!" "You took my spear!" Otak said, tears of fury springing to his eyes. "I had to. The hare appeared--" "You took my spear!" Otak shouted. He punched Maroo, and the tears spilled over and streamed down his face. Maroo's delight in the kill collapsed. She understood now, and tried hopelessly to reassure him. "You could have caught it, if you had been there. Anyone could Don't you see? It was a spirit. It doesn't matter that I killed it." "It does matter," Otak said, red-eyed. "You had no right to take my spear. And Rivo is my dog." "He's ours!" "He's mine for hunting. Because I shall be a hunter not you." "I'm sorry. But you were hungry and now we have meat. Let's light the fire and cook it." --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 120 "You light the fire," said Otak. "Girls make fire; they don't hunt." He kicked the dead hare. "This won't be much between us." "You can hunt again tomorrow." "I will," said Otak sulkily as Maroo fed the fire with twigs, "and I won't be sent off to fetch firewood. I won't leave you my spear again." Maroo's patience snapped. "You're just a baby!" she said. "You can't catch anything yourself, and now you are angry because I can!" As soon as she saw the hurt look in Otak's eyes, she wished she had not said it. When the hare was cooked, she tried to make up for her words, giving Otak most of the meat and saying she was sure he would catch something tomorrow. The snow was falling steadily as they gnawed the last of the meat from the bones. They retreated promptly into their little cave, but it was too cold to sleep. They took turns sitting with their feet under the other's fur jacket, thawing their toes painfully back to life. Later they lay down, curled in the furs, and Maroo fell asleep in spite of the cold. When she woke she saw snowflakes flying past the entrance to the shelter. She turned to Otak to tell him, but his place was empty. With a cold feeling at her heart, she crawled to the entrance and squinted out into the thick-falling snow. Nothing. Both Otak and Rivo had gone. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 121 Chapter 15:The Mountain SpiritMaroo was breathing fast as she tied on her boots and pulled her jacket over her head. She tried to calm herself with the thought that Otak was just outside, surveying the morning. But she knew in her heart that it was not so. Rivo was gone. Otak's spear and sling were gone. "You can hunt tomorrow," she had said. But when Otak woke this morning he must have known that she would not let him go out in a snowstorm, so he had crept out quietly before she woke. Where was he now? How could she find him? She ran out into the storm. An angry wind shook and bit her. Shoulders hunched, the fur-edged hood pulled close around her face, she glanced quickly about, her eyes screwed up and watering from the cold wind. No footprints. The snow would have covered them. No sound, either, except for the tearing of the wind. Perhaps Otak was on the lookout point above. As Maroo climbed up the steep hillside, the wind --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 122 leaped down from the mountaintop and clawed at her clothes, driving sleet into her frozen face. She held her hood tightly under her chin with one hand and scuttled, head down, from rock to rock until she reached the place where they had stopped and rested yesterday. The long vistas of mountain and plain were no longer visible; now there was nothing to be seen except a wall of driving snow. She searched for footprints but found none. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called, "Otak! Otak!" hot the wind snatched her voice away. "I must go back to the shelter," she thought. Surely, if Otak and Rivo had gone hunting, that was where they would come to find her. She climbed back down toward the shelter, hoping all the time that Otak would be there when she arrived. There were footprints in the snow outside, but they were her own. The shelter was empty. She went in and began to blow on the embers of the fire and feed it with twigs until it was blazing. She pushed the cooking stones into the base; Otak would need a hot drink when he returned. Now there was nothing more to do, so she squatted by the fire and waited. How long she crouched there she did not know. There was no sun to mark the shape of the day and nothing to break the monotony of wind and snow. She watched the endless snowflakes flying past, and it seemed as if she would be there for ever and the snow --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 123 would never stop. Twice she got up, went out, looked around and called, but nothing moved or answered. She squatted down again and began to think of the family in the snow house. She counted the days or her fingers; if she and Otak did not leave today, it might be too late to save them. She jumped up an began to pace around the tiny shelter. What should she do? Where had he gone? Would Rivo find his way back even if Otak could not? Anger at Otak boiled up, mixed with guilt because she knew that it was her fault that he had felt driver to prove that he could hunt. He would not return now until he had caught something; she was sure of that. But to go out in such a storm! How could he ever find his way back? She remembered old Mother's warning: there must be no risks taken; if one of them was lost or injured, the other must go on. One must survive. She had kept those words at the back of her mind, never thinking that she would need to make such a decision. But now -had the time come? She knew, with unwilling certainty, that Old Mother would not flinch from her duty if the food in the snow house ran low and rescue was not in sight. She would go far out on the plain and wait for death. "I must go on without him." The thought lay like a stone amid the confusion of anger, guilt, and anxiety in her mind. She went outside and looked up at the sky. How late --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 124 was the day? She could not tell. Perhaps it was already nearing dusk. She knew that she could get down the mountain in less than a day, but in a blizzard like this she could lose her way and take much longer. Yet it had to be done. "I'll call him once more," she decided. She climbed up to the lookout and called his name over and over again into the howling wind. But no answer came. She found herself crying. Perhaps he was already dead. Perhaps he had been dead before she woke up this morning. Or he might be injured, or trapped in a snowdrift, and wailing for help. She remembered her own terror when the glacier had tried to kill her, and how Otak had struggled to pull her out. She climbed all around the hillside, calling and searching. She even went back on their tracks until she could see dimly through the snow the shape of the Pass of the Spirits. But surely he would not go up there? She came down again, and at last returned to the shelter. The fire was low. She knew it was time to leave. She abandoned Otak's fur bedding; it was heavy, and she still had a faint hope that he might return and need it. Among the furs she found the horns of the ibex that Areg had killed. She set them up to make an arch, as Otak had done, and prayed to Areg's spirit, "Keep Otak safe." Then she scooped the embers of the --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 125 fire into her horn, slung her bedding roll on her back and took up her staff, turning to what she knew must be the west. The snow beat mercilessly in her face. The win shrieked among the high rocks. She walked on, moving steadily downhill, prodding with her staff to test the ground ahead of her for dangers hidden under the snow. She thought constantly about Otak and where he might be and whether he could survive. Once or twice the lion came into her thoughts, but the vision of Otak and the lion both roaming the mountain was to frightening; she shut it away. Better to concentrate on reaching the camp. In spite of the blinding snow she tried to note features in the landscape: the shapes of rocks, the slop of the land, stunted tops of juniper just showing above the snow. Reaching a sheltered place behind a rock she scrabbled in the snow and found three withered berries and some plants with long white roots, which she dug up and crammed into her mouth. The made quate food made her more aware of her hunger, but she found nothing else to eat. She saw, with alarm, that the air was darkening. I was almost dusk, and she was still high on the mountain She must have waited most of the day for Otak "I won't stop," she decided. The blizzard made it impossible to see; the night could be no worse, she thought, though the idea of spirits nudged at her mind --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 126 She went on, The day closed rapidly into evening, and still the snow fell. The rocks became vague and shadowy. She was tired, and trudged head down. Suddenly, with a cry of disbelief, she stopped. She was back at the rock where she had dug up the roots! She must have walked ever since then in a great circle. Two sets of her own prints along the track confirmed it. She was lost. Shaking with fear, she darted about, frantically searching for the way. Everywhere looked the same. Panic seized her. She began to run, faster and faster, away from the rock, anywhere so long as it was away from that rock. She ran until her chest was burning, and still she could not stop. Her breath was coming in big tearing sobs. She dropped her staff and flailed at the air as she ran. Run! run! run! her fear told her. But at the back of her mind she heard something else: Old Mother's voice warning of the dangers of panic. A man lost in the wilderness, she had said, could go mad and run blindly until he died of exhaustion. "If you are lost and the madness grips you, stop. Drop in your tracks, let your fear go, and the Earth Spirit will show you the way." Maroo stopped, and stood panting. She fell to her knees and crouched on all fours with her head hanging. Slowly the panic subsided and she breathed more easily, but she stayed there a long time until all fear had gone. When she got up, the sky was black and full of falling snow. She could not see, and yet she knew instinctively --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 127 that she was facing west. She also had a sense of altitude and knew that she was about halfway down the mountain. She began walking calmly into the dark snow-laden night. She walked more slowly now, letting her body lead her. Besides, she was becoming tired, the way was dark, and she had lost her staff. The panic did not re turn, but her confidence ebbed with tiredness and the thought of Otak, deserted on the mountain. She could not stop worrying about her brother an wondering if she had been right to leave him. He might have been so near when she was calling, but on able to hear her. The thought made her cry again, and the icy wind froze the tears on her face. As she brushed them away she became aware that the snowflakes had been getting smaller for some time and now --was the blizzard almost over? The wind was strong, but there was less snow. She wondered if Otak would find his own way down the mountain. There were no stars to point the way If only Irimgadu were shining! She longed for a sigh of Old Mother's name-star; it would guide her, as old Mother did. As if in answer to her wish, the wind-blown clouds parted briefly to reveal flickering faraway stars. Wisps of cloud blew across them, eclipsing the light, then revealing it again. But Irimgadu remained hidden. The blizzard was almost over. Maroo paused in relief and became aware of her aching body and stinging --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 128 face. After the hours of snow-battering, she was exhausted. "I won't sleep," she thought, "but I'll stop and rest." She slumped under a rock in the lee of the wind, letting the tiredness drain out of her. In spite of her determination she must have slept. She jerked awake in sudden fright to find that the moon was shining on her face. The moon was full and hung low in a black sky thick with stars. Irimgadu shone brightly. The wind spirits were quiet, no longer howling among the high rocks. Maroo's fear disappeared. Old Mother always said that the moon was friend to women and girls; it had woken her and made the mountain visible for her journey. She got up. The mountainside was shining with a bright silvery light; rocks and bushes stood out, black-shadowed; the snow glittered. Maroo scooped up some of the sparkling stuff in her hands and sucked it. The cold hurt her teeth, but she was too thirsty to mind. She lifted her bundle and heaved it onto her back. The mountain, a black, immense presence, reared behind her. She could not see the plain from here but sensed that she was now on the lower slopes of the mountain. She turned confidently toward the west -- and stood still in utter terror. There on the path ahead of her, outlined in silver, and with every hair, every whisker, glittering, was the --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 129 lion. Its eyes shone with silver fire. Its tail swished. Maroo knew for certain that this was the mountain spirit. The silvery lion was the mountain itself, come to bar her way, challenging her for being so bold as to think she could trespass on it. She stared into the gleaming eyes, willing them to let her pass. The lion did not move, but a low growl came from deep in its throat. Maroo glanced quickly about. High rocks surrounded her. The narrow path was blocked by the lion. Slowly, without taking her eyes from the lions, she reached behind her and felt inside her pack until her hand closed on something hard. She withdrew it. It was a torch: a short stake, one end coated with pitch. Her eyes still held the lion's eyes. The low growl increased. The lion's breath made a small cloud. Cautiously she reached for the fire horn at her belt. The fire was alive. She blew on it and the flames brightened. The lion raised itself, tensing for a spring. Maroo gripped the torch. Pitch and fire united. The torch blazed, crackling and spitting, a red intruder in the silver night. The lion snarled and spat It backed away. Maroo advanced, holding the torch in front of her. She bared her teeth at the lion, but her hands shook with fear. The lion snarled angrily, its tail whipping from side to side. It made a run at Maroo. She stood her ground and thrust the torch toward its face. It snarled, tossing its head and showing long, wicked teeth. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 130 Maroo came nearer. She thrust with the torch again. The lion's paw whipped out, and she leaped away. She knew that one swipe from those great curved claws would maim her so that she could never get up. The lion, seeing her hesitation, came on with a spring. Maroo, with a cry of terror, pushed the blazing torch into its face. The lion howled in pain and rage. It bounded away down the path, then turned and growled again. Maroo knew she must show no weakness now or the mountain would defeat her. She walked forward resolutely, the torch held out, her eyes fixed on the lion's eyes. Slowly the lion backed away. It crawled backward on its belly until it reached a place where the path opened out onto rock-scattered mountainside. Then, with one bound, it was gone, vanishing among the high rocks. Maroo felt her legs give way. She dropped to the ground, extinguishing the torch, and sobbed with lief. She had won. She had overcome the mountain spirit. An enormous tiredness threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to get up and walk to the place where the lion had disappeared. There were outcrops of rock all around, but she was not afraid that it might be hiding there. It was a spirit lion; she had defeated it, and it had gone back to the spirit world. She looked up at the moon and made a --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 131 sign of thanks. Then she sat down with her back to a rock and fell asleep. She woke to the sound of bird song. Opening her eyes, she saw the sun beginning to rise. She got up, and then, despite her weariness, shouted for joy. She had reached the foothills of the mountain, and there on the plain below were the huddled tents of her people. As she walked down the mountain, more of the camp gradually came into view: the flint workshops, the smokerooms where the deer carcasses hung, the people moving between the tents. The camp was huge: a great concourse of shelters and the smoke of many hearths rising between them. There were people from four tribes there. All the people Maroo knew of in the whole world belonged to those hearths, and she felt a great rush of happiness at the sight of them. After her lonely trek down the mountain, and the hardships of the long journey with the family, she wanted nothing more than to be in a familiar crowd of people. Everything filled her with love and relief: the smoke from the fires, the sounds of laugher and argument, the smell of cooking meat, the ringing of the ax-maker's hammer, a woman singing tunelessly as she scraped fat from a hide. All Maroo's tiredness left her as she ran eagerly down the last few steps of the mountain and into the heart of the gathering. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 132 Chapter 16:At the Crossing PlaceIt was night: a cold frosty night vivid with stars,Irimgadu the brightest among them. And in the light of her star sat Irimgadu herself, cross-legged on the ground, thin, but erect as ever, her hair coiled into its cone and pinned with its three bone pins. With her sat Nimai and Vorka, and Tikek with the baby in her arms, and Maroo. All around the family, fires were burning and women were preparing a great feast to celebrate their homecoming. Already drums had begun to tap and children had put on their beads ready for the dancing. Whole deer carcasses were being roasted over the hearth fires and drinks were brewing in leather buckets. The family sat in the place of honor by Keriatek's hearth-fire, but the loss of Otak took all the joy out of their homecoming. Tikek's tears ran as she cuddled the baby. Old Mother looked drawn, and Maroo guessed she must be asking herself whether she had been right to send the children on alone. --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 133 Maroo counted on all the fingers of one hand the days that had passed since she came down from the mountain. The young men had searched the lower slopes the day she returned but found no trace of Otak. They had wanted to go higher, but the elders forbade it. The mountain spirit had taken Otak, they said; one life was enough. Maroo knew that Otak probably could not survive so many days alone, yet she still kept hope alive - he had his weapons, and the dog, and perhaps the magic of the ibex horns. The day she had arrived in the camp several young men from each of the four tribes had set off at once to find the snow house on the plain, taking food, furs, and sledges. Maroo, too tired to walk, had been pulled on a sledge so that she could guide them to the place. The men had traveled at a hunter's trot and reached the snow house in two days. They had found the family hungry but all alive. As soon as they were fit to travel, they had been put on the sledges and the hunters had pulled them back along the trail. Maroo, watching the two men jogging ahead as they pulled the laden sledge she sat on, had had a fleeting vision of a sledge pulled by a pack of dogs --tame dogs like Rivo, She had wanted, urgently, to share her vision with Otak, knowing he would be captivated by it too. Then she had remembered that Otak was dead; she would never share any ideas with him again. The journey had taken four days, and when at last they came in sight of the camp, a great shout had gone --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 134 up; people had come running to meet them, the drums had begun to beat, and Keriatek and Sovi had offered up thanks to the Earth Mother for their delivery. Otak was not there, but his spirit shadowed the feasting. Maroo turned to Old Mother and asked yet again, "Did I do right to leave him? Should I have waited longer?" "No, you did right," Old Mother comforted her. But still Maroo felt guilty. The people crowded around. The women began to hand out meat, hot and dripping with fat. They held it in gloved hands. Maroo was glad to be back with her people -but the man from the Blue Lake tribe was there, with his dog that reminded her of Rivo, and at the thought of Rivo and Otak lying dead and frozen on the mountain, the tears splashed down her face and she could not eat. The feast went on all night Maroo was too hungry not to eat a little. There was dancing and singing. Vorka sang a song about Meg and how he had died. Maroo became aware that songs were being sung in her honor; she would always be remembered now throughout the four tribes as the girl who had crossed the White Mountain and survived. Another sound mingled with the drumming and chanting: something familiar. She saw that the Blue Lake hunter's dog had stood up and was barking. It barked frantically at something in the darkness beyond the firelight. The hunter and another man got up and --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 135 went to see what was wrong. No one else had noticed, but Maroo watched, intrigued by the dog's behavior. The men returned with two dogs. The other dog was a wild-looking thing with ribs showing and a plaited cord around its neck. Maroo's heart leaped. She sprang to her feet and shouted, "Rivo!" The dog bounded across the open space and jumped up at her, paws on her shoulders, licking her face with his hot tongue. "Rivo! Rivol" sobbed Maroo, patting the rough fur. "Where is Otak?" And then she saw him. The circle of people had broken and Otak staggered into the firelight. There was a moment's hush, a drawing back, and Maroo felt the hair prickle on her head as the unspoken thought reached her: is it a spirit? Then the dog rushed forward, and Maroo broke free and ran and flung her arms around Otak. Otak said faintly, "I'm cold," He sagged and fell to his knees. The people crowded around. Later, they heard what had happened: how Otak, lost in the blizzard, had fallen and sprained his ankle. Unable to walk, he had sheltered in a small cave with only the dog to keep him warm, shouting occasionally for help and hoping that Maroo would find him. "You should have sent Rivo for me," Maroo said. "I did. He went off, but perhaps he didn't --------------------------------------------------------------- p. 136 understand, or perhaps you had already gone. He didn't find you, but he came back with a lemming and we shared the meat. After that he went hunting most days and caught enough to keep us alive until I could walk again. Then he helped me find the way down to the camp. He's a good dog. I would have died without him." Maroo saw that the old men, Keriatek and Sovi, were listening. She looked at them. The two men murmured together. "The dog will come with us to the winter caves," they decided. Maroo and Otak exchanged a glance full of happiness. Otak fondled Rivo, burying his face in the rough fur to hide his tears. The camp was breaking up. The Blue Lake people had gone; others were leaving. They would go to their home caves and meet again perhaps in the spring, perhaps not until the next autumn gathering, for the land was vast and men were few. The tents were rolled up, the last fires stamped out, the tent poles and deer carcasses piled onto sledges. Birds flew by, flock after flock, heading south. The sky looked cold. Winter had come. Immense herds of reindeer spread out across the white plain. Maroo and Otak walked with their people along the trail to the winter caves, and the dog trotted beside them. |
