| OCR Text |
Show The path of the race had begun at sunrise in the village, and snaked along the mesa through the distant hills. Chua and the others had run so far that Father Sun was now high in the sky. ^ His ears could hear feet pounding behind him. They sounded like the beating of drums. They were getting closer. Chua ran faster. To the side he saw his best friend, Hanai. Chua pushed his legs and pulled away from ^£ Hanai. Chua wanted to win the race for his father, who had just gone. He wanted to win the sacred water andpahos. The water and prayer sticks would bless his crops now that he must care for his mother. Sometimes Chua's mind tricked him into thinking his father was still there. An image of both his parents waiting at the end of the race came into Chua's head. He shook it away and ran faster. Quit tricking me, he thought. His father was not there, and only his mother would be at the finish line. His clan was his family now. He concentrated on the race. As he came up over a rise and turned to follow the path back to the village, Hanai pulled ahead. No, thought Chua, I must win. He lengthened his stride, and came up even with Hanai. Chua's breathing was heavy. He felt like a panting coyote as his feet climbed the last hill to the village. When he saw the crowd of villagers in the distance, tiredness left him. The clan began to cheer. Strength filled him. Chua pulled ahead of Hanai again, but Hanai ran harder, matching Chua stride for stride. The pounding of Chua's feet echoed in his ears. Win for Father, win for Father, his feet said. |
