I did not fail to note, incidentally, that several, often mutually hostiletribes, had cooperated in the attack, with its attendant destruction andkilling. The Memory, as it is called, and their hatred for the white man, hadtaken priority, as it commonly did, over their bloody and almost continuousintertribal differences. The red savages, I speculated, if they wished, withtheir numbers, and their unity, conjoined with an approximate technologicalparity in weapons, should be able to hold the Barrens indefinitely against whiteintrusion.
'It is a horrifying thing,' said Grunt, almost numbly.
'Yes,' I said. 'What does this mean?' I asked. I placed my right hand against myheart, with the thumb and fingers pointing down and slightly cupped.
'Heart,' said Grunt.
I then lowered my hand toward the ground. I had seen Corn Stalks do this, afterhis account of the battle, if battle it had been.
'The heart is on the ground,' said Grunt 'My heart is on the ground. I am sad.'
I nodded.
'My heart, too,' said Grunt, 'is on the ground. I, too, am sad.'
I nodded. 'Do you think there were survivors?' I asked.
'In actions of this sort,' said Grunt, 'our friends of the plains are seldominclined to leave survivors, but perhaps they did, perhaps, say, some children,to be herded to Waniyanpi camps, to be raised with Waniyanpi values, suitablefor slaves, or, say, perhaps, some females whose exposed curvatures at theirfeet they might have found acceptable. Who knows? They are the victors. It woulddepend on their whim.'
'What of a red slave of white men? I asked.
'Male or female?' asked Grunt.
'Male,' I said.
'I do not think I would give much for his chances,' said Grunt.
'I thought not,' I said.
'We should perhaps turn back,' mused Grunt I did not speak.
'It will be dangerous to move eastward now,' he said. 'The blood of the youngmen will be high. The killing lust may yet be with them.'
'They have done, surely,' I said, 'what they purposed. They have enforced theirlaws, against both the innocent and the guilty. They will now be returning totheir tribal areas.'
'Smaller parties can be more dangerous than larger parties, at such a time,' said Grunt 'The larger party has done its work and is returning to its home,presumably under the command of a blotanhunka, a war-party leader, usually afellow of mature and experienced judgment. He exerts control; he commandsrestraint. The smaller party may consist of young men, insufficientlydisciplined, urging one another on to yet another hazard or feat, fellows whoare unwilling for the fun to be over, fellows who are eager to try for yet onemore killing, fellows who wish to obtain yet one more trophy.'
'Such, you fear, might linger in the area?' I asked.
'Sometimes they are even left behind,' said Grunt, 'to track survivors who mighthave hidden in the grass.'
'But we were not of the attacked parties,' I said.
'One might hope, of course,' said Grunt, 'that they would be sensitive to suchdistinctions.'
'We have not broken the laws,' I said.
'We are white,' said Grunt.
'I must move eastward,' I said. It was important for me to determine the fate ofthe Kurii who had been with the mercenaries.
'Grunt,' I said.
'Yes,' he said.
'It is my understanding, gathered along the perimeter, that you are unusualamong traders, that you, of all of them, have penetrated most far into theBarrens, and know them best of white men.'
'Perhaps,' said Grunt. 'It is hard to tell about such things.'
'It was for this reason that I sought you out,' I said.
He regarded me, not speaking.
'I have something among my stores, which I would show you,' I said. 'I suspectthat it is something which you have seen, or that you have seen similar thingsand are familiar with their origins.'
'I shall be pleased to look at it,' he said.
I returned to the fire in a few moments, and, on the dirt, in the light of theflames, spread the hide which Samos and I had obtained in the ruined tarncomplex some four pasangs from the northeast delta gate of Port Kar.
'It is a story hide,' said Grunt.
'Can you read it?' I asked.
'Yes,' he said.
'But you are not reading it,' I said. I noted that he did not, with his eye orfinger, trace the spiraling account painted on that almost-white, softly tannedsurface.
'I have read it,' he said. 'Where did you get it?'
'Near Port Kar,' I said.
'Interesting,' be said.
'Why?' I asked.
'It is so far away,' he said. 'It is in the delta of the Vosk.'
'This hide, I gather,' I said, 'has passed through your hands.'
'Last fall,' he said, 'I obtained it from Dust Legs. They, in turn, had it fromKaiila.'
'Do you know from what band of Kaiila?' I asked.
'No,' he said.
'To whom did you sell the hide?' I asked.
'To Ram Seibar, in Kailiauk,' he said.
'It all fits!' I said.
'You are not a trader,' said Grunt. 'What is your true business in the Barrens?'
I pointed to the painting of the two feathers near the beginning of thenarrative. 'The painter's name,' I said, 'seems to have been Two Feathers.' Irecalled that Kog had surmised this, in his interpretation of the hide.
Grunt shrugged. 'That is not necessarily the case,' he said, 'at all. The twofeathers may be a talisman, or a luck sign. They may indicate a place. Theycould even indicate that the hide's painter has two coups, each coup beingmarked by one feather.'
'I see,' I said. This was indeed unwelcome news. Suddenly my task, and theBarrens, seemed far more formidable.
'It is easier to interpret sign, which can occasionally be difficult, than tointerpret a story hide. The conventions on the hide, and its meanings, are oftenmore idiosyncratic, more personal.'
'Do you often deal in story hides?' I asked.
'No,' said Grunt. 'To encounter one among trade goods is quite uncommon.'
'Ram Seibar paid well for this, did he not?' I asked.
'He paid a double tarn, of gold,' said Grunt.
'He seemed anxious to obtain it?' I asked.
'He did not even bargain,' said Grunt. 'Yes.'
I nodded. For such a coin one might easily buy five girls.
'What is your business in the Barrens?' asked Grunt.
'Do you see this beast?' I asked. I pointed to the image on the representationof a shield, that painted at the conclusion of the hide's account. It was theimage of a Kur, the left ear half torn away.
'Yes?' Grunt.
'I seek it,' I said.
He regarded me.
'No,' I said. 'I am not mad.'
'That is a beast of a medicine vision,' said Grunt. 'It is not a real beast.'
