Great Sky Woman Read Online Free PDF Page A

to have seen lurking out on the savannah.
    Did they truly exist? She did not know, could only say that her love, Cloud Stalker, leader of the hunt chiefs, believed them real. For this and other reasons she never left Great Earth’s slopes without an armed companion.
    The entire boma ceased their patching and wrestling and basket weaving as the old woman passed through the thorn wall’s gap. Five paces behind her, the two young hunt chiefs squared their shoulders, aware that every eye—especially every female eye—was upon them. Although hunt chiefs did not marry, they had their pick of widows and unmarried girls. Ibandi nights were always warm, but some were more humid than others.
    The crone straightened her back and sharpened her gaze as she walked, aware that all eyes were upon her. She was glad that none of the young ones could read her fire. A spine could be straightened at a thought, but she was certain that fatigue dimmed her fire, so the least of her students could count her years.
    Ah well. One mouth could not simultaneously praise wisdom and curse old age.
    Other than this yearly circuit, or times of emergency, most Ibandi saw Stillshadow and her sisters only at Spring Gathering, in the shadow of Great Earth. Spring was a chance to see cousins and sisters who had married away, an opportunity to learn new dances and hear new stories to mold their dreams. There she gave names to new babies, something that ordinarily didn’t happen until their second full moon.
    Dream dancers and their guardians were offered lodging immediately upon arrival at the boma gate. Stillshadow waited, hunching in the shadowed recess of the thorn wall’s gap, leaning on her knobby walking stick. Her two young male escorts, hunt chiefs from Great Sky, maintained their usual distance. “I will eat before I sleep, but I can still bless before I eat. Bring the children to me,” she said, and smacked her withered lips together. The thought of newborns, so fresh from Great Mother’s bosom, warmed her heart.
    Thorn Summer, not a man or a woman, with the rights of neither but with some strengths of both, greeted her with an embrace and a gift of water. His eyes widened joyfully as she accepted his offering and sipped from his ostrich shell. Thorn had studied his name for many years and come to the conclusion that it was his place in life to offer cooling drink and shade to pierce the heat. “Have you walked long?” he asked.
    “A day and a night,” she said, returning the shell.
    The boma began to awaken to her presence, its folk coming to her, stamping the ground and spitting toward Great Sky in greeting.
    “Please,” said a small, dusty woman. “Bless my child before you sleep.” This request was repeated again and again as one and yet another mother brought her young ones forward. All had been born since Stillshadow’s last annual visit. Most had been named already. Two had not.
    Fire boma’s father, Break Spear, was a man of broad shoulders, with a vast belly that had once been flat and muscular. Now it was hard and round, as if he had swallowed a muskmelon whole. It shook as he roared in pleasure and held up his hands. “Not so many! The wise one is tired!”
    Stillshadow laughed, accepting the playful challenge. “No! I am not too old to bless our fruit. Bring me more babies!”
    She weaved a bit, intoxicated both by her people’s nearness and by the herbs and leaves that she ate, drank or smoked to keep herself moving through the long night’s grueling walk. Much of her time was spent combining various roots for effect, teetering on the edge of dream for days at a time.
    It was her place to offer blessings, but she would stay no more than a day or two. During that time she would dance stories, sing songs, answer questions, grind and compound leaves and roots into precious medicines. Then, with her guards, she would travel on to the next major boma. The entire circuit might take her more than a moon. True, she would be