only a momentary hesitation. A turn of his head over his shoulder and a few abrupt words brought the older Indians up to the basket like a family of shy deer ready to bolt at the first move of the
The bland, oily acorn mush was consumed in near-silence, with Gideon and Julie eating little. Gideon made friendly overtures several times, but the Yahi wouldn't even meet his eyes, let alone respond.
When it was done, another platter, of fish and root vegetables, came from the oven. This was politely if indifferently offered to Julie and Gideon, who declined.
'Too much,” Gideon said in Yahi, patting his stomach and smiling. “Good.'
The Indians ate, stuffing the food into their mouths but never taking their eyes off the strangers.
'Feel better?” Gideon asked. “It looks like they have plenty.'
'Much better,” Julie said.
Afterward, the old Indians crept away again and looked at them from a distance, but now there was a touch of expectancy, naive and even charming, in their faces. They hadn't forgotten the gifts. Gideon opened his pack and looked through what he'd brought. If they'd never seen a mirror before, it would be a first-rate way to begin.
'Here goes,” he said to Julie. “Unless I miss my guess, Big Cheese is the kind of guy who'll find his own face the most fascinating thing in the world.'
With a smile, he held one of the pocket mirrors out to him, tilting it so that the Indian would see his own reflection when he looked at it. But he wouldn't look at it. He turned his head away with his eyes closed, as a privileged infant might show his contempt for a proffered spoonful of mashed peas. When Gideon persisted, the naked arm flicked out in an impatient, backhanded swipe, sending the little mirror to the ground, where it struck a stone and cracked in two. The old Indians watched, blank-faced and reserved.
Gideon took a deep breath. “Not exactly a howling success,” he said to Julie. “Let's hope some of the other things appeal to them more.'
He took the four ball-bearing necklaces from his backpack and let them dangle from his hand. Big Cheese watched disdainfully, but the others craned their necks to see, nonetheless maintaining their prudent distance. Giving Big Cheese a wide berth, Gideon began to walk slowly toward them, holding the necklaces out and murmuring what he hoped were soothing sounds.
The Indians were obviously torn between their curiosity and the desire to run, but they held their ground and at last Shy Buffalo stretched out a tentative hand. Gideon, however, quickly slipped the necklace over his head so that it lay like a collar, burnished and sleek, on the dark, rough skin of his mantle. There was a shocked silence, and Gideon wondered momentarily if he'd violated some sacrosanct Yahi norm. But then Shy Buffalo's big face split in a slow grin, and his fingers moved over the smooth, heavy beads of steel.
Gideon held out the necklaces to the others, as if he was coaxing pigeons with bread crumbs, and they came. He gave one to each of the other three, and they placed them around their own necks, murmuring to each other in gentle surprise at the weight of the ball bearings. They were definitely beginning to thaw—except for Big Cheese, who remained off on one side, grim and uncommunicative.
'How did you know to bring four?” Julie asked.
'Dumb luck. Let's hope it keeps up.'
It was the curtains that scored the major success, but not in the way expected. When Gideon tore open the package, there were murmurs of astonishment, and four pairs of hands reached not for the bright cloth but for the clear plastic wrapping. They held it up to their eyes, pressed it onto their faces, and crinkled and uncrinkled it. The curtains themselves were fingered politely and ignored.
In almost two hours, none of the old Yahi had spoken directly to the
'I don't understand,” he said miserably.
Keen Eagle gestured at the towel and repeated what he had said, this time shouting directly into Gideon's ear.
'I don't understand,” Gideon repeated with a helpless gesture.
The Indians stared at each other and whispered incredulously. Their meaning was clear: Is it truly possible that a human being might not understand our language? Astounding!
Gray Sparrow also had a try at shouting into Gideon's ear, but Shy Buffalo solved the problem by spitting on the curtain, taking Gideon's hand, rubbing it over the wet spot, and gesturing expressively: What good is material that gets wet?
In the rain forest, it was a persuasive point. “Ah, I understand,” Gideon said in Yahi.
'Ah, I understand,” they repeated to each other, delighted, mimicking Gideon's outlandish accent but without malice. There was considerable good-natured laughter in which Gideon joined, with the feeling that the ice was broken at last.
When he dipped into the knapsack and fished out Squeekie the Turtle there was more laughter, which increased when he squeezed it to produce its soft bleat.
There was a rough, abrupt movement at his side, and a muscular arm swept down to knock the toy to the ground. Gideon was considerably startled and sprang back; he had almost forgotten about Big Cheese. The young Indian stared at him, fierce and combative, his hand gripping the head of the ax at his belt. In the sudden silence the older Yahi melted back.
Gideon reached behind him and gently pushed Julie away. He didn't know what had angered Big Cheese, but if his hand so much as began to pull the ax from his waistband, he would spring. He'd go for the ax with his left hand and chop at the Yahi's throat with his right forearm. His eyes focused on the prominent Adam's apple in the muscled throat, and his body coiled. It was hardly orthodox behavior for an anthropologist, but that ax had nearly killed him once, and he wasn't going to give it another chance.
Big Cheese seemed to read his intentions. He dropped his hand casually away from the ax, an Old West gunman whose bluff had been called. His veiled eyes, always hostile, changed their expression perceptibly from
