Страница 102 из 120
He waved, and Rudi's group gathered close, their horses' noses in a circle; the young men and a few of the young women of the hocoka who'd be going on their first hunt closed in around them. His first words were to the outsiders.
"OK, now you're hunk-ate, you're entitled to take part in the hunt. That doesn't mean you have to do it. These aren't cattle; they're wild animals, and big ones. You come off your horse once they start moving, or your horse goes down, you'll have to be scraped up with a shovel. Even guys who've been doing this for years get killed sometimes. Understand?"
They all nodded; Rudi kept his face sober, but he felt a grin bubbling up beneath it, like the ones that were splitting Edain's face, and Fred's. Odard was looking politely interested; he might not have gone if the other men hadn't, but he was going to enjoy himself anyway. The only male of their party not here was Father Ignatius, who'd politely excused himself to continue hearing confessions and celebrating masses; and to consult with the hocoka 's physicians about replenishing their medicine chests; and to the brain-cracking labor of putting their reports in cipher.
And none of the girls was going to back down if the others didn't, either. They wouldn't have been here if they were the types who could back down from a dare, even an unspoken one.
Mathilda and Virginia don't seem to have hit it off. That's a pity; they're rather alike, in some ways.
Red Leaf nodded, then spoke a little louder to include the Sioux youngsters: "OK, here's how we do it, and don't you roll your eyes while I'm talking, Mato Kokipapi. The bears may be afraid of you, but tatonka ain't. You've helped your folks with their cattle since you could ride, right?
"Sure, itancan," the young man in question said.
"Well, there's a good goddamned reason you haven't been allowed on the buffalo hunt yet and how heavy a bow you could pull is only part of it. Tatonka aren't cattle. You can get 'em moving but you can't head them off. We love tatonka, but remember that the Buffalo People don't love us; we're just like the wolves or the damn lions to them. They don't care if you yell and wave a lariat in their faces. If you get between them and where they want to go they'll smash right into you and dance on you, and they'll hook you or your horse if they can. You keep behind them or alongside… but not too close."
He pointed, obviously taking the opportunity provided by the new-comers to force the Lakota youngsters to listen to what they'd already heard many times; that one more time that could save a life. Even with the mounting excitement Rudi recognized the ma
"Now, everyone see those guys?"
A dozen mounted Sioux were easing their horses into the herd on the southern fringe, careful not to spook any of them. The animals moved away from them, but slowly; sometimes a ring would form, the bearded horned heads looking inward. A few of them blatted in surprise when the riders approached and lumbered off, or bellowed and pawed the earth, but most put their heads down and began grazing again almost immediately. The men were mostly older, in their thirties or even forties, and they were lofting balls of fleece at the odd buffalo here and there. When one struck a gout of pink dust went up, staining the beast's hump.
"Those are the Choosers. They've been marking the ones you don't shoot for a couple of days now."
Ah, Rudi thought. They're picking the young bulls that won't charge or make threat displays. Selecting the most even-tempered ones.
The itancan continued: "Don't go near the cows with calves, or the young females. When the herd starts to move, the mothers will drift to the inside anyway, so stay towards the rear and the outside. The other reason we have the big hunt now is that they start breeding in July, and Iktomi! they get mean! What we're after is the yearling and two-year bulls and the barren cows. Give them an arrow through the lungs or heart, and then sheer off. Finish them with the lance later when they're down. Start when you hear the call and stop when you hear the call for that."
Rudi nodded, and there was a murmur of agreement from the others. The Sioux dismounted and gathered in a murmuring circle around a small fire of sweetgrass; Red Leaf was waving it with an eagle-wing fan. Rudi made the Invoking sign, raised his bow above his head and murmured his own hunter's prayer:
"Forgive us, brothers, and speak well of us to the Guardians; thank you for your gift of life. It won't be wasted. Horned Lord, witness that we take from Your bounty in need, not wanto
Then they moved out, bows in hand and hunting lances in the scabbards behind their right elbow; the weapons had seven-foot shafts and a vicious head like a double-edged butcher's tool. Rudi was riding one of Red Leaf's trained buffalo ponies, though Epona and the rest were with the remount herd. The animal was smallish for someone his height, but it had a deep muscular barrel and a bright intelligent eye, and it had done this for five or six seasons. They rode south down the long slope, across the front of the great mass of bison and down its western flank with a thousand-yard wide space on their left, until they were behind the herd and the Choosers rejoined them.
Those were Red Leaf's most experienced hunters, and each of them took a selection of the first-timers under his care; other men worked alone, or in family groups, and there were seventy bows in all. The itancan himself kept his son and his new relatives with him, as well as Frightens Bears and a few others. The older hunters were steady and intent, their faces grave; Rudi took a deep breath and focused, pulling up strength from Earth below and down from Sky above.
They fa
"When you get within twenty yards, they start moving away," Red Leaf said.
The chief's recurve came up and he drew smoothly to the ear. The four-edged triangular head slid back through the cutout of the bow until it rested just above his left knuckle. The buffalo ahead of him was a two-year-old male, big and turned dark brown but without the muscled hairy massiveness of the great herd bulls. It sped up a little as his horse approached, giving a look over its shoulder and then moving up to a trot that looked clumsy and lumbering but started to draw away from the hunter.
"So shoot… now!"
The snap of the string against his bracer and the wet solid thunk of the arrowhead merged with each other. Beneath that Rudi could hear the crack of a rib parting under the impact of the steel. The arrow vanished to its fletching against the beast's flank, and a bawl of astonished agony cut across the lowing and stomach-grumble of the great herd. The young bull galloped then, blood fa
Rudi came to himself with a start as the other bows snapped, distracted by the primal dance of life and death. A yearling threw its head up at the smell of blood not ten yards away; he clamped his legs on the barrel of his horse, judged the moment…