Then he moved away from the shelter of the stunted juniper and walked rapidly northwestward, moving silently and keeping to the bottom of the shallow arroyos when he could. He looked carefully across the plateau, searching the foreground first, then the mid-distance, finally the great green slopes of the Lukachukai Mountains, which rose to the east. But maybe the kangaroo rats would hear it, too. To make the deer come out where you could shoot them.
He was pretty sure that wasn't the right song. He replaced the turquoise bear in the medicine pouch and rose stiffly to his feet. The blood of male game will wash my body. They step and turn their sides toward me. It makes the male game hear my heartbeat.įrom four directions they trot toward me. "That evil which the Ye-i turned toward me
Horseman chanted in a barely audible voice, just loud enough to be heard in the minds of the animals. The dark horn is a shield of beaten buckskin." By the time he got back to the rimrock it would be late enough to make a little fire, dark enough to hide the smoke. The Black God didn't have anything to do with game, but his uncle had said you have to put it in about him to make the chant come out right. Something about the Black God, but he couldn't think how it went. There was another part of the song, but Horseman couldn't remember it. With the Talking God I kill the male game." He reached into his shirt front, pulled out a leather pouch, extracted an odd-shaped lump of turquoise, and placed it on the ground in front of him. The least nibble and the stone would fall. He had placed this one just right, with the twig at the edge of the kangaroo rat's trail. He should have put a little more blood on the twig, he thought, but it might be enough. Horseman rocked back on his heels and surveyed the deadfall. Luis Horseman leaned the flat stone very carefully against the piñon twig, adjusted its balance exactly and then cautiously withdrew his hand.
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