Read Online Feather by Susan Page Davis - Free Book Online Page B

lost this time of year,” Kama said, settling down on the dry grass. “The men hunt, and they miss. Pfft! The arrow is gone.” She raised her fist into the air and opened it, extending her fingers toward the sky.
    “It is the fall hunt,” Feather nodded. She sat down beside Kama and watched her pick up one of the broken arrows.
    Kama turned the shaft in her hands and squinted at the shattered end.
    “This one can be fixed. It is long enough. This one . . .” she picked up another and shook her head. “No good. They lose the tip, and they break the wood.”
    She sorted out the arrows that could be salvaged and chose one with mangled fletching for Feather to work on.
    “You fix this?” she asked.
    Feather turned it slowly. “I can. I will scrape off the glue and use new feathers. What feathers do you have?”
    Kama opened a folded piece of leather to reveal an assortment of feathers, and Feather fingered them.
    “These are very good.” Feather smiled at Kama, and the woman nodded.
    “All right, you work. Before the noon meal, you show me what you have done.”
    Kama took one of the new shafts and began to smooth the wood, rubbing it methodically with a grooved piece of sandstone. Feather soon forgot her and lost herself in making the damaged arrow whole again. She cut the threads first, then scraped off the remains of the feathers’ vanes, then smoothed that part of the shaft. From the leather pouch she chose the wing feathers of a large prairie bird. The bands of black, white, and mottled gray pleased her. She sliced each one down the center quill and used the wider half for her new fletching.
    After gluing and tying the feathers in place, she carefully trimmed them. Using the hot end of a stick from the fire, she burned away the edges, leaving the shape she always made for the Wobans’ arrows. Hunter and Jem had told her that her fletching made the arrows fly straight and swift. They claimed they were better hunters when their quivers were filled with her arrows, and that gave Feather a pride she had never known before. She would show Kama, her new mentor, how well she could fix the damaged arrows. Perhaps she could even earn some respect here in the Blen tribe.
    By noon she had refurbished three arrows. The sinew threads provided for her use were not as fine as the linen thread Weave made, but the glue was fast drying, and Feather was well pleased with her work. The sun was just overhead, and although the nights were becoming cold, the noontime heat made her grateful for the shade. But before many more weeks, she knew, the cold weather would begin in earnest, and she would long for the baking sun once more.
    Kama came and stood over her, then bent to pick up her finished arrows.
    “Your time is up.”
    Feather blinked up at her. “I can work faster, now that I have the feel of your glue and your tools.”
    Kama looked over the arrows, saying nothing. Then she turned and gave a piercing whistle. A group of boys was practicing archery a hundred yards away, and they turned toward her. Kama gestured for them to come.
    Feather caught her breath and tried not to stare at Tag. Two other boys came with him.
    “Here,” Kama said, holding out the mended arrows. “You try these, and tell us if this girl is worthy of her name.”
    Feather bit her teeth together hard. Kama was almost making a joke. But if her arrows did not please Kama, the jest would not be funny. She would be punished, no doubt, for making false claims of skill.
    The boys took the arrows and went back to where they had been shooting at the large, red-tinged leaves of a tree. The first boy missed his mark, and Feather winced. Of course, that boy might be a poor shot anyway. She had never paid attention to his shooting before. The second boy brought down a leaf, and she breathed.
    Tag nocked his arrow and aimed high into the branches, then let fly. The arrow zipped through a leaf on the highest bough, then arced gracefully to the ground several yards