"Maybe," she said. "I will think about it." This was tantamount to an offer of marriage.
"I think I will go hunting now," he said. "I must take my place."
"Oglu waste, Witantanka," she said. "Good luck, Witantanka."
Some more hunters drifted past us.
A few yards ahead of where we waited by the lodge there was a group of mounted kaiila riders. There was an older fellow there, a member of the Sleen Soldiers. He was addressing a cluster of some five or six young men, almost boys. It was the first hunt, I gathered, in which they would fully participate, not riding merely at the fringes, observing the older men, but entering among the beasts themselves. I walked up, to where I might hear what was going on. "Remember," the older fellow was telling them, "you do not hunt for yourself today. You hunt for others. Doubtless there will be hunters who will not be successful today. You will hunt for them. And there are those in the camps who are weak and frail. You will hunt for them. For all of these, and others, those less fortunate than yourselves, you hunt today. But always, remember, you hunt not only for yourself. You never hunt only for yourself. You hunt for the Kaiila."
"Howe, howe," acknowledged the boys.
"Good hunting," said he to them. "Oglu waste! Good luck!"
They then turned their kaiila about, to take their places.
In a boy's first hunt he gives his kill, or kills, to others. Only the first beast's tongue, its most prized meat, will he have, it being awarded to him for his efficiency and valor. The purpose of this custom seems to be to encourage the young man, from the very beginning, to think of himself in terms of the gallantry and generosity of he warrior.
I walked back to where Cuwignaka was waiting.
"We will soon be going out," said Cuwignaka.
"I think you are right," I said.
The lodges, incidentally, in a hunt of this sort, are not struck. The Pte, in a herd of this size, moving as slowly as it must, and in virtue of the kaiila and travois, would be within reach for three or four days. The entire encampment of red savages, of course, may be swiftly moved. In less than twenty Ehn an entire camp can be struck, packed and gone. This is a function, of course, of the lodges involved. One woman, working alone, can put one up in fifteen Ehn and strike it in three.
"Canka," said Cuwignaka, as Canka stopped his kaiila near us.
"Greetings, my brother." said Canka.
"Greetings, my brother," said Cuwignaka happily. "What are you going to do this morning?"
"I think I will go out to look at the Pte," said Canka, smiling.
"Where is Winyela?" asked Cuwignaka. "Is she going out? Do you want her to come with us? We will look after her."
"She is going out," said Canka. "But I am sending her out with Wasnapohdi, the slave of Wopeton, the trader. She has been with the hunt before. She will not get too close. She will show her how to cut meat."
"Winyela is white," said Cuwignaka. "She will throw up the first time she has to cut meat. She will do it poorly."
"If she wastes meat, I will beat her," said Canka.
"Good," said Cuwignaka, approvingly.
"I see, little brother," said Canka, "that you, to, are going out."
"Of course," said Cuwignaka.
"Do not get too close to the herd," said Canka.
"I won't," said Cuwignaka.
This warning on the part of Canka made me somewhat uneasy. I had thought that the dangers in this sort of business were borne, primarily, if not exclusively, by the hunters. Yet, of course, it was clear that if the herd, or portions of it, were to veer or circle their movements might bring them into the vicinity of the travois and women. In such a case, of course, one must slash the travois straps, mount up, and make away as best one can. To be sure the greatest dangers were clearly borne by the hunters who must ride among the running beasts themselves, and attempt thier kills from a distance just outside the hooking range of the trident, from a distance so close that they might almost reach out and touch the animal.
"You and Tatankasa will be out there alone," said Canka. "I will not be near you."
"I do not understand," said Cuwignaka.
"Beware of Hci," said Canka.
"We will," said Cuwignaka. The hair on the back of my neck rose up.
"Have you seen an arrow of mine?" asked Canka. "I am missing one of my arrows."
"No," said Cuwignaka.
"I must have misplaced it," said Canka.
"Yes," said Cuwignaka.
"I must take my place," said Canka.
"Good hunting. Be careful," said Cuwignaka. "Oglu waste!"
"Oglu waste," said Canka, and then turned his kaiila away, to take his place.
Agleskala now made his third and last circuit of the camp. "Make ready your arrows," he cired. "Make ready your knives. We are going to make meat! We are going to make meat!"
"We are going to make meat!" cried out several of those about us.
"We are going to make meat!" said Cuwignaka, happily.
The Sleen Soldiers, riding abreast, in a long line, which no hunter, no matter how eager, must cross, in the first streaks of dawn, left the camp. Behind them came the hunters, of the Isbu, of the Casmu, of the Isanna, of the Wismahi, and of the Napoktan, riding five abreast. Dust lifted about the paws of their kaiila. Then came the women, and the kaiila and travois, the poles leaving lines in the dust, and with them, joining them, came Cuwignaka and myself.
Chapter 5
CUWIGNAKA AND I WILL GO TO THE DRAW
"Help me," said Wasnapohdi, "please."
We helped her put the bull on its belly in the grass, pulling the legs out. Cows, which are lighter, are usually skinned on their sides, and then turned, sometimes by ropes tied to their legs, drawn by the kaiila.
Wasnapohdi thrust her knife in behind the neck, to make the first slash, from which the skin would begin to be folded back, to expose the forequarters on each side. Subsequently the hide, in the normal fashion, can be cut down from the middle.
The liver had already been removed from the animal, by the hunters. It is a great delicacy, and is commonly eater raw.
"How is Winyela doing?" I asked. I saw the girl to the side on the grass, kneeling, her head down.
"She is sick," said Wasnapohdi.
I walked over to the girl. It did not smell too nicely near her.
"How are you feeling?" I asked.
"I am all right," she said. "In a little while I will try to cut the meat again."
"You are a female, Winyela," said Wasnapohdi, sweating, working. "You must learn this."
"I will try again, in a little bit," said Winyela.
"There is a cow over there," said Wasnapohdi, kneeling on the back of the animla, pointing with the bloody knife, "felled by one of the Canka's arrows. I will have her work on her. That way, if she does poorly, since it is his own kill, and not that of another, he can be more lenient with her."
"Do you think he will be lenient?" I asked.
"No," said Wasnapohdi, returning to her task.
"I am not afraid," said Winyela.
"Oh?" I asked.
"No," she said. "No matter what I do, I know that Canka will never punish me."
"Why is that?" I asked.
"He likes me," she said.
"And do you like him?" I asked.
"I love him," she said, "dearly, more than anything."
"Bold slave," I said.
"A slave may be bold," she said.
"That is true," I said.
"Nonetheless," said Wasnapohdi, grunting, at her work, "do not be surprised if you find yourself well quirted."
"Canka would never do that to me," she said.
"Have you never brought him the quirt?" I asked.
"Once," she said, "the first evening in his lodge, he made me gring him the quirt, on my hands and knees, in my teeth."
"What do you suppose the meaning of that was?" I asked.
"That I was a slave, that I was subject to discipline," she said.