the time, especially if you are going to meet strange girls. Look how big your pecker has grown! It looks like the pecker of a yearling! Do you want to frighten the girls of the Corn People with that thing?â
Shadow and Whip laughed like turkeys gobbling, and Shadow found his loin coverings and the thong that held them on.
7
Shadow and Whip were running with their new friend, Trotter, of the Corn People, when they chanced to jump a rabbit from some bushes near a stream called Sometimes Water. Their eyes gleamed like the eyes of their wolf ancestors as they pursued with pack-hunting skills they didnât even know they possessed. Clad only in moccasins and loin skins, they tore through tangles of undergrowth in the shade of the huge sohoobi trees, their locks of long hair streaming behind them like the tails of black ponies.
âHa!â Shadow shouted, spooking the harried rabbit from a momentâs respite taken in the thick of a raspberry vine. Trotter descended upon the opposite side of the bramble, and the rabbit dodged, only to find Whip circling into place with a stick he had scooped from the ground at a dead run. The stick drove the rabbit onto a trail, and the boys hit their longest gait trying to keep up with the fleeing prey.
Near a place where the roots of a big tree collected the waters of the stream, making them sing, the rabbit sought protection in the hollow of a fallen tree, years in the rotting.
Whip prodded the rotten wood with the stick he had picked up, but the log was long, and the rabbit had crawled beyond his reach.
âI know a way,â Shadow said. âWhip, run to the village and bring a burning coal.â
Whip bolted as if a great bear had come after him. By the time he returned with a buffalo-horn fire carrier containing a smoking ember, Trotter and Shadow had plugged the opening to the hollow log with sage brush and had gathered a mound of moss and grass moist enough to smoulder. Shadow placed dry grass and sticks so that they would burn and make coals. Whip and Trotter admired his skill in constructing the pyre, applying the brand, and fanning it to a small flame.
When the coals had been mounded high enough, the boys snuffed out the open flame with moss and half-rotten grass, making smoke billow up from the coals. Shadow looked around for strange girls, then took off his loin skin and used it to fan the smoke into the opening in the end of the hollow log. He would let the smoke gather under the skins, then force the small cloud through the sage brush, into the hollow. Some of the smoke would escape and rise in a free cloud that Shadow liked to watch go up among the tree branches. He studied each puff of smoke that rose this way, until the squeal of the rabbit in the hollow log distracted him.
When the shrill screaming of the doomed rabbit began, the boys ceased their joking and looked soberly at the log, but Shadow only fanned the smoke in with increased enthusiasm. Then they could hear the animal trying to push through the sage brush blocking the entrance to the hollow, and finally, they could see it trying to push through the brush, its piercing scream of distress coming loud enough to make Trotter put a finger in one ear.
âWe will have him!â Shadow said. âHe sings his death song!â
Whip grinned.
Trotter lay down on his stomach to watch the rabbit struggle. He laughed. âHis medicine fails him,â he said.
The plaintive squeal of the rabbit weakened as the sting of smoke caused tears to streak down Shadowâs face.
When Shadow was satisfied that the rabbit had suffocated, he began clawing the sage brush from the hollow. Trotter and Whip tried to push him away from either side, starting a rough wrestling match. But Shadow had seized the advantage and reached in first for the long ears. He kicked and elbowed the other boys aside and pulled the limp animal from the hollow. Taking the rabbit by the hind feet, he thumped its head against a
Shadow and Whip laughed like turkeys gobbling, and Shadow found his loin coverings and the thong that held them on.
7
Shadow and Whip were running with their new friend, Trotter, of the Corn People, when they chanced to jump a rabbit from some bushes near a stream called Sometimes Water. Their eyes gleamed like the eyes of their wolf ancestors as they pursued with pack-hunting skills they didnât even know they possessed. Clad only in moccasins and loin skins, they tore through tangles of undergrowth in the shade of the huge sohoobi trees, their locks of long hair streaming behind them like the tails of black ponies.
âHa!â Shadow shouted, spooking the harried rabbit from a momentâs respite taken in the thick of a raspberry vine. Trotter descended upon the opposite side of the bramble, and the rabbit dodged, only to find Whip circling into place with a stick he had scooped from the ground at a dead run. The stick drove the rabbit onto a trail, and the boys hit their longest gait trying to keep up with the fleeing prey.
Near a place where the roots of a big tree collected the waters of the stream, making them sing, the rabbit sought protection in the hollow of a fallen tree, years in the rotting.
Whip prodded the rotten wood with the stick he had picked up, but the log was long, and the rabbit had crawled beyond his reach.
âI know a way,â Shadow said. âWhip, run to the village and bring a burning coal.â
Whip bolted as if a great bear had come after him. By the time he returned with a buffalo-horn fire carrier containing a smoking ember, Trotter and Shadow had plugged the opening to the hollow log with sage brush and had gathered a mound of moss and grass moist enough to smoulder. Shadow placed dry grass and sticks so that they would burn and make coals. Whip and Trotter admired his skill in constructing the pyre, applying the brand, and fanning it to a small flame.
When the coals had been mounded high enough, the boys snuffed out the open flame with moss and half-rotten grass, making smoke billow up from the coals. Shadow looked around for strange girls, then took off his loin skin and used it to fan the smoke into the opening in the end of the hollow log. He would let the smoke gather under the skins, then force the small cloud through the sage brush, into the hollow. Some of the smoke would escape and rise in a free cloud that Shadow liked to watch go up among the tree branches. He studied each puff of smoke that rose this way, until the squeal of the rabbit in the hollow log distracted him.
When the shrill screaming of the doomed rabbit began, the boys ceased their joking and looked soberly at the log, but Shadow only fanned the smoke in with increased enthusiasm. Then they could hear the animal trying to push through the sage brush blocking the entrance to the hollow, and finally, they could see it trying to push through the brush, its piercing scream of distress coming loud enough to make Trotter put a finger in one ear.
âWe will have him!â Shadow said. âHe sings his death song!â
Whip grinned.
Trotter lay down on his stomach to watch the rabbit struggle. He laughed. âHis medicine fails him,â he said.
The plaintive squeal of the rabbit weakened as the sting of smoke caused tears to streak down Shadowâs face.
When Shadow was satisfied that the rabbit had suffocated, he began clawing the sage brush from the hollow. Trotter and Whip tried to push him away from either side, starting a rough wrestling match. But Shadow had seized the advantage and reached in first for the long ears. He kicked and elbowed the other boys aside and pulled the limp animal from the hollow. Taking the rabbit by the hind feet, he thumped its head against a
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