'Sometimes,' said Cuwignaka, uneasily, 'I do not know what to believe.'
'I see,' I said.
'There is the feather,' said Cuwignaka.
'It is only the feather of a large tarn,' I said.
'Something did what it did to the rider, to he of the Kinyanpi,' said Cuwignaka.
'That is true,' I granted him.
'And it is still out there,' said Cuwignaka.
'Somewhere, doubtless,' I said.
'It was Wakanglisapa,' said Hci.
'Do you see anything?' I asked.
'No,' said Hci.
'Then do not worry,' I said.
'Tatankasa,' said Hci.
'Yes?' I said.
'Leave the feather,' said Hci.
'No,' I said. I then, followed by Cuwignaka, threw my weight against the harness. The travois moved forward easily. The tarn, even an adult one, is a bird and is light for its bulk.
'One thing puzzles me in this,' I said, after a time, to Cuwignaka. 'Why would a tarn, if it was a tarn, have attaked a rider in flight. That is extremely unusual.'
'It is explained in the legend of Wakanglisapa,' said Cuwignaka.
'Tell me,' I said.
'It is said that Wakanglisapa prizes his feathers and is jealous of them, for they contain powerful medicine.'
'So?' I said.
'Perhaps the rider had found the feather and was carrying it, when Wakanglisapa came to reclaim it.'
'I see,' I said.
'We did find the feather in the vicinity,' said Cuwignaka. 'Perhaps it had been dropped by the rider.'
'That is possible,' I said.
'That is why Hci wanted the feather left behind,' said Cuwignaka.
'I see,' I said.
'He is afraid that Wakanglisapa may come searching for his feather.'
I shivered. 'Do you see anything, Hci?' I asked.
'No,' he said.
Chapter 40
IN THE COMPOUND OF THE WANIYANPI
'There is a fire in here,' said Pumpkin, from outside of the threshold. 'Let me go in first.'
Hci, Cuwignaka and I sat behind a fire, in the center of the large, half-sunken, earthen-and-wood lodge of the Waniyanpi. We faced the threshold.
'There may be danger,' I heard Radish say, from outside the threshold.
'Do you wish to enter first?' asked Pumpkin.
'No,' she said. 'No! You enter first.'
'I shall,' said Pumpkin.
We sat behind the fire, in what, in a lodge of red savages, would be the place of honor.
Mira knelt behind us, in the position of the pleasure slave. I had permitted her clothing, but clothing only of a certain sort.
The lodge in which we waited was not untypical of the communal lodges of the Waniyanpi. It was some fifty feet in diameter, with an earthen bench or projection about the interior edges. Its roof is rounded and slopes upward towards the center. This roof ranges from five to eight feet in height, from the surface level, as opposed to the interior floor level; it is formed of poles covered with sod; it is supported at the edges of the log walls, against which, on the outside, dirt is banked, and by log stanchions arranged in a circle on the floor. At the apex of the lodge is a smoke hole and beneath the smoke hole, at the center of the lodge, is the fire hole. It was in this fire hole that we had built our fire. The smoke hole, incidentally, because of its size, and the size and structure of the lodge, tends to be somewhat inefficient. It is quite different from the smoke holes of the conelike hide lodges common with the red savages which, because of flaps, responsive to the movements of poles, function like efficient, adjustable flues.
There are no windows in the lodges of the Waniyanpi. Even with the fire lit, they are half dark.
'He is coming in,' said Cuwignaka.
'Yes,' I said.
The lodges of the Waniyanpi, as I have suggested, are communal lodges. The entire commuinty lives within them. One advantage of such lodges, and communal living, generally, is that it makes it easier to impose social controls on the members of the community. It is natural, accordingly, for certain sorts of authoritarioanisms to favor such arrangements. Where there is no place for difference it is natura that difference will have no place. The strongest chains are those a man does not know he wears.
'It is a large man,' said Cuwignaka.
'It is Pumpkin,' I said.
I despaired, then, for a moment, of my plan. But then, I reminded myself, how insuppressible is man, how tenacious is truth.
'Is it you?' asked Pumpkin, coming forward, blinking against the light of the fire.
'Greetings,' I said. 'We have made ourselves your guests.'
'You are welcome,' said Pumpkin, ungainly in his Waniyanpi garb.
'Is it safe?' called Radish, from outside the threshold.
'Yes,' said Pumpkin. 'Come in.'
Pumpkin then saw Mira.
She wore a brief halter of Waniyanpi cloth which by design, did little to conceal the beauty of her breasts; about her waist a string was tied; two pieces of Waniyanpi cloth, about a foot wide and two feet long, were thrust over and behind the string, one in from and one in back; these two pieces of cloth could be casually jerked loose, if one wished; similarly, the knot, at the left hip, was made so that a mere tug could free it, causing the garment to fall; in this fashion the lower garment may be removed from her a bit at a time or, as a whole, if the master wishes; a similar knot, joining the harlter's neck and back strings, could be similarly freed. The slave, accordingly, can be stripped a bit at a time, or almost instantly, as one wishes. Such garments are not unusaul for slaves.
Pumpkin stared at Mira, unbelievingly.
'Master?' she asked.
'Is it you-Turnip?' he asked.
'I am Mira,' she said, 'the slave of Red Bull.'
'Ae you not Turnip?' he asked.
'I was once Turnip,' she said. 'I am now no longer Turnip. I am now Mira, the slave of Red Bull.'
I had had two major purposes in mind in dressing her as I had. I wished, first, for the Waniyanpi males, and females, too, to see her as she was, as what she was, a slave, an owned woman, one who beloned to men and must please them. Secondly, I wished for them all to see, and see clearly, how beautiful and desireable she was, the lovely slave.
I saw that the Waniyanpi men, and women, too, looked upon her. Some of the Waniyanpi males tried to avert their eyes but, in a moment, gazed eagerly again upon her. She was simply too beautiful and exciting to look away from.
I smiled. The Waniyanpi could not take their eyes from her. She lowered her head, timidly, blushing, startled at suddely finding herslef the object of this attention. The Lady Mira of Venna, the free woman, I
