People of the Earth Read Online Free PDF

she
sank teeth into the palm of his hand; then she began to kick and squirm, her
screams throttled. He picked her up as if she were a struggling antelope fawn
and walked out into the lazy water. She battered at him, flailing against his
side as he clamped her to him and started down the channel.
                   "Hush," he whispered in a soothing
voice. "I won't hurt you. I'm taking you north, to a new home, to people
who will love you."
                   She wrenched this way and that, muffled sounds
coming from her throat. He could feel the terror in her desperate struggles.
She threw herself back, twisting, trying to break free.
                  “Here, quiet. You can't get away—not from Sage
Ghost. You've been promised to me. You will become a great Spirit Woman—a Soul
Flier—among the White Clay. I know it. A man of fire came from the sky and told
me."
                   She relaxed slightly in his arms, panting her
fear against the back of his hand.
                   Sage Ghost jumped as a wolf howled prophetically
into the night.
                
                  

Chapter 1
     
                   Such a terrible winter.
                   White Ash leaned forward, face pinching as
cramped and knotted muscles strained in her back. She peered across the fire at
the pile of hides covering Bright Moon's body. The draft that sneaked in around
the lodge skirts created patterns in the thick bed of glowing red coals and
cast a ruby light over the inside of the lodge. She could see Bright Moon's
face; her mother finally slept.
                   My mother? Curious. I can hardly remember my
life before Sage Ghost stole me from the Three Forks camp. I belong here, among
the White Clay people, now. Owlclover might have
borne me—but Bright Moon loved me more. White Ash rubbed a nervous hand over
her face and looked at the old woman who now slept so fitfully. And all I can
do is sit here and watch her die.
                   "Thank you for everything, Bright
Moon," she whispered softly in sorrow. If only Sage Ghost hadn't left with
the other men in a desperate attempt to find game. She closed her eyes, grief a
physical pain, like a gnashing of teeth in her chest. Bright Moon would be dead
before he returned.
                   For eight winters White Ash had lived with the
White Clay.
                   Of those years, the first six had been
wonderful. As she'd grown, she'd learned the ways and language of the Sun
People.
                   The White Clay had moved south from the Bug River , all the way to the Fat Beaver, to avoid
the raiding in the north.
                   She smiled as she remembered carefree days of
golden sunshine in the summer and cozy, warm lodges in the winter. Through all
of them, Bright Moon's face had beamed with love for her. She'd played with
Wind Runner and Brave Man and the other children. They'd run and told jokes and
hunted for mice and rabbits.
                   White Ash shook her head, the smile on her
lips bittersweet. Three years ago things had begun to change. Rumors had
circulated down the trail that the other clans were beginning to move south,
seeking new territory. The White Clay warriors had strutted among.the lodges, thumping their chests, growling threats about what they'd do if the
other clans came near.
                   Then the Black Point clan attacked the camp on
the Fat Beaver River and caught everyone by surprise. The White Clay had fled
in horrified confusion and come unraveled, splitting into three factions. Defeat
after defeat had thinned what remained of their ranks. But the people had never
been as desperate as they now were. War visited them again, bringing death and
privation. Hunger stalked the camp, reflected in the gaunt faces of the
children and elders. The cold seemed to intensify, rending their bodies