OCR Text |
Show 14 Chua's bird, Chosovi, fluttered from Chua's dark hair to the edge of the water jar. "She's thirsty," Chua said. He poured a few drops of the precious water into his hands, and the bird drank. Apa held out her cupped hands. "I need water also," she said. Chua poured water for her and then some for himself. Ahote had seen them stop. His quick strides turned in their direction. "Hurry," he called. "Mother can't go any faster," yelled Chua. He shouted more than just to be heard. It felt good to release some of the anger knot inside. "She must come," his uncle said. "Now!" Ahote put his thumb and forefinger inside a leather pouch and pulled out a piece of the chewing root, sticking it in his mouth. Chua looked at him in disgust. Ahote's beady eyes stared at Chua. How Chua hated those eyes. The juice from the root drooled out of Ahote's mouth. He wiped it with the back of his hand. ^ Hopi Shamans, like his father, chewed the roots to give themselves a visionary trance. But his father had used the plant very sparingly, only when he needed to understand a problem more clearly. Ahote, who was not even a medicine man, chewed the plant all the time. He looked up to see Ahote's dusty body standing over him. "Must I tell you again that this new Hopi Snake Clan is beginning its migrations? We will walk many moons to the left of the rising sun." He took a stick and drew a snake in the sand pointing north. "Then we will walk many moons toward the rising sun." He drew a |