People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past) Read Online Free PDF

weak left arm against his chest. He’d seen fifteen summers since the buffalo had charged him during the hunt. He’d tried to leap out of the way, but the big bull had slammed into his arm, flinging him four tens of hands before dashing away in a cloud of dust. The arm still worked; it was just weak and much smaller than his right.
    The beaten path curved around the plaza fire and continued up the slope. Bark lodges created a perfect circle around him. Each was made from a large pole frame covered with bark; life-size paintings of the gods decorated the exteriors. The enormous white eyes of Buffalo Above flashed as he passed Old Woman North’s lodge.
    “A pleasant evening to you, my Chief,” a young slave woman called.
    “And to you,” Cimmis replied sourly.
    Even at this time of night slaves scurried about, dressed in brown sea-grass capes, carrying food or firewood. Most just bowed as he
passed. Others felt obliged to speak. As he walked in front of the plaza fire, its light threw his monstrous shadow over the lava cliff behind the village; it danced like a leaping ghost.
    He ignored it, his mind on the Council. If they kept making the sort of decisions they had made this night, that’s what they would all become: dark, lonely shadows. He could feel the truth knotting his belly.
    His North Wind People had been here since the beginning of the world. Didn’t anyone remember the old stories? About the Creation? About Singing the World into existence? About the coming of Wolf and Coyote, Eagle, and Killer Whale? About Raven, the Trickster, and his dark-haired children?
    He tugged his lynxhide cape closed and glowered.
    “I remember the stories,” he whispered. “I remember them well.”
    Around the winter fires, his grandmother had told many stories of the Beginning Time when their people first arrived here. Glaciers had covered most of the world. The people, guided by the North Wind, had paddled their canoes down the icy coastline, looking for a sanctuary, and found it on the islands off the coast. Everything they could have wanted was there—a paradise of fish, sea mammals, berries, tubers, algae, and kelp. In the springtime, the islands had been rich with tender shoots and greens. In summer and fall, the raspberries, blueberries, cranberries, and others had filled the baskets.
    Generations passed in peace and plenty, and the people split, becoming Cougar People, Buffalo People, and Elderberry People who moved off in different directions. Finally the Raven People had appeared in the north, wearing their black hair in buns, reddish brown of skin, with round heads and high-cheeked faces. Few in numbers, they drifted down the coast. They’d been timid, awed by the North Wind People.
    At first, the North Wind People gladly shared their fishing and gathering grounds. There was plenty for everyone. But the elders hadn’t realized that the Raven People bred like meadow vales. Within a few cycles, they had begun moving east, south, and north. The Buffalo People retreated farther eastward to the grassy plains; the Elderberry People headed south along the shore. The Cougar People had retreated into the rugged mountains, crossing the passes and heading inland. Others had made their homes on distant islands to the north.
    With the burgeoning population, it didn’t take long for the resources to run short. The Raven People no longer wished to share. Fights broke out. Many died.
    The North Wind elders decided to move their villages inland to Fire Mountain. A strange choice for a maritime people, since the terrain was steep and uneven and there weren’t many resources, but they’d been trying to get away from the greedy Raven People. Every summer for tens of tens of tens of cycles, the North Wind People had moved higher and higher up the slopes. Ever closer to their ancestors, the Star People.
    The Raven People sought them out. It was little wonder. The North Wind People had been in this world longer; they knew the best