said, “Or maybe it’s because the good hardwoods are eight or nine days walk back toward the mountains.”
Salya nudged her brother and grinned. She liked talk like that.
They approached the council lodge at the west edge of the village. “I didn’t want to tell you about this,” said Shonan. It was a shabby thing, as though nothing important could happen there.
“I’m glad our weddings will be at the Cheowa village,” said Salya.
Aku still couldn’t spot Iona.
“There aren’t enough people here,” said Salya, “to make a real blessing.”
“I told you I picked these people because they’re weak and will be glad of the safety of becoming Galayis.”
They’d heard it before.
An old man came walking toward them, bearing a pipe. A short, slight, boyish man walked next to him, Oghi the seer.
“Chalu,” said Shonan, “the chief. They don’t even have a war chief.”
When the chief came close, he made the signs for wanting a ceremony.
Aku was proficient in the sign language. “Signal him yes,” Shonan told his son.
Aku did, but his mind was on something else.
“As soon as we get our camp set up,” said Shonan.
Aku signed it.
Chalu turned and made his doddering way to the council lodge.
Oghi signed to Aku, “She’s waiting for you. You see the flat-topped rise over there?” He nodded toward it. “In the dunes right beyond it.”
Aku started running.
“Where are you going?” called Salya.
Aku turned, ran backward, grinned big, waved, turned again, and sprinted toward Iona.
Salya and her father set up their own camp and looked around. They had the same thought, but didn’t share it. We’re at our new village, but we still don’t have a home . Salya shrugged. “Hey, we’re used to it.”
Oghi walked up. He and Shonan had a short, quiet conversation off to one side. Salya saw that several digital repetitions were necessary. Then each man nodded and smiled a lot.
People were gathering in the arbor used as a council lodge.
“Go find your brother and this Iona,” said Shonan.
Near the center fire stood Chalu, holding the sacred pipe, on one side of him Oghi and on the other Shonan.
Chalu picked up an ember from the fire with two twigsand dropped it onto the sacred tobacco. Then he drew the smoke in deeply and offered it to the four directions. Shonan couldn’t understand what he was saying. He watched carefully how Oghi handled the pipe and again couldn’t understand. When his turn came, he performed the ceremony in the Galayi style. He thought, We’re not going to learn to be them. They’re going to learn to be us .
Chalu addressed the assembly, and Aku fingered his words to all the people of both groups. Shonan paid enough attention to see that it was a welcome to the visitors. “Except they’re not visitors,” said Chalu. “They will become our relatives, our children, even our fathers and mothers.” Other words followed. Shonan gathered that it was a diplomatic speech.
When Chalu handed him the pipe, Shonan smoked ceremonially and repeated some of what the Amaso chief had said. “This is a great moment,” he said. “Let us no longer call each other Galayi and Amaso. We are one people, and we will be known as the Amaso village of the Galayi tribe.”
It was well done, a good acknowledgement for both groups.
Now Shonan raised his voice. “And I have something special to add.”
Iona stood up beside Aku, who was still translating with his fingers.
“Proudly Oghi the seer and I announce to all the first blood joining between our two peoples. At the Harvest Ceremony in three moons my son Aku”—here Aku pointed to himself with both index fingers—“will be married to Oghi’s daughter, Iona.”
Aku held Iona’s hand high in triumph.
4
S honan walked observant. The mountains of his native country were a wild country, steep, rugged, heavily wooded. His migrants followed a twisting creek eastward, toward the sea. At will, though, it snaked around to point