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Show return," he said softly to his crippled sister. "Then your friends will not laugh at you and say you are ugly." From the roof of his family's round stone house he quickly surveyed the village. Only the dogs were stirring this early. Into a pouch of woven yucca fibers he placed a small basket, the bag of food, and strips of dried meat he had saved for days. He picked up a small ball of bark he had rolled together and hid under a bush. He unwound it and placed a tiny, hot charcoal in the middle from his family's fire. It began to eat the bark and smoke curled from it. Winding it back up, he put it in the pouch hanging from his shoulder. Without air, it would not burn, but the smoldering bark, when blown upon, would provide sparks for his night fire. He was ready. The first glow of dawn lit the horizon and spread across the mesa his village sat on. With reverence, he watched the great sun peek above the distant mountains. He fingered the small leather bag hanging around his neck. Yesterday he had told the tribal medicine man about his journey. The ancient one had made him a gift of charms to wear for protection. "Your quest is a noble one, my son," he had said. "May the Great Spirit guide your footsteps." "He is with me," thought the boy. "I can feel him in the warmth of the sun." He entered the mouth of the canyon that led south. He traveled long that day, never stopping except to study the map given him by his dead grandfather, and to fix a broken strap on his sandal. He made a new one by pounding and chewing the leaf of a yucca plant until it was soft enough to separate into thin strips. He added a few strands of his long hair to give the fiber strength and elasticity. |