Free Death in the Time of Ice by Kaye George Page B

of clouds, tinged with the rosy light of Sister Sun just after she had gone to rest. He didn’t remember seeing the color of those eyes before, since the New One kept them half-shut most of the time.
    The New One looked down and took a step inside. He held out a small fur object and Zhoo accepted it. Your gift is appreciated. After he had limped out, she unfolded and held up a wrap for the newest Hamapa.
    The silence broke as the females admired the wrap, then resumed making soft bird sounds that the baby ignored in favor of his mother’s breast.
    Wetness gleamed on the cheeks of Roh Lion Hunter, who stood at the rear of the cave. Jeek could sense her pain. It had not been long since she had lost her last baby. It had died on the day of its birth. Her daughter Gunda, ten summers old, leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder to soothe her. Jeek grew uncomfortable in the presence of such strong emotions and started pulling at his hair.
    Jeek also was not as fascinated with the wrap as the grownups. And now that the child was being fed instead of making those entertaining grimaces, Jeek grew bored watching him suckle and crept out of the cave. Fee would return to her home in a few days. Until then, Zhoo would be tending her much of the time and, with his brother Teek Pathfinder on the trading mission, Jeek would mostly be on his own.
    Hunger was starting to cause him pain. He ate at every meal, but there was little to go around, and he did not eat much. Maybe he could figure out how to trap some game while he was spending time alone. The new mother must have enough food, he knew, or the baby would suffer.
    He walked down the hill with his head lowered, his hair falling forward into his face, thinking about the baby growing, becoming older, and about the Naming Ceremony that would be held when the child had passed the number of full moons of all fingers and all toes, twenty full moons. This rite of passage included gaining a short name, something to call him. Usually the mother picked it. Jeek grabbed a wisp of hair and chewed it. What would be the future of this tiny boy?
    A jarring wave of hatred interrupted these musings just before Jeek reached the edge of the village. He turned, facing toward the bad thoughts, toward the woods.
    Ugly little creature. What should a person expect when Bahg Swiftfeet is the seed giver?
    At first Jeek could not tell whose thoughts these were. They seemed to be private thoughts that had escaped unintentionally, and the source was not clear.
    If I had given Fee Long Thrower the seed, the baby would be beautiful. How can she take seed from Bahg Swiftfeet, with his ugly long legs? Mine are so much sturdier and thicker. How can she couple with him?
    Jeek stood very still for a moment, then slunk toward the spruce trees at the edge of the Paved Place. He crouched behind a large clump of sedge.
    I want Fee Long Thrower. I want her for myself. Bahg Swiftfeet already has much that is good in his life. I do not. He has a quick mind and all the Hamapa like him. I do not have a quick mind and do not receive the high regard he does.
    The speaker was one of Kung’s companions, Doon. Jeek knew Doon, as he knew all the members of his tribe. Doon was not given the ability to think like other Hamapa. They realized, shortly after his birth, that he would have to be cared for by everyone. His birth mother did not live through his birth and his seed giver was unknown. He was called Doon because “doondoon” was the Hamapa term for a person who is not able to know many things.
    Doon followed Kung like a small child. He had a body small for his age, but he acted even younger than he was. His head was misshapen, flat where it should be round in the back. Hama had let it be known that she did not think Kung a good leader for Doon. But Doon had no other companions.
    Jeek had never before heard such things expressed by Doon. He knew Doon considered Fee Long Thrower beautiful. All the Hamapa did. But Fee had