Free The Elk-Dog Heritage by Don Coldsmith Page B

packing might be altered. Each family could distribute the customary assortment of baggage among as many animals as possible. Again, an observer would see many laden packhorses, and assume a strong, affluent, and presumably, well-armed band.
    People began to be drawn into the enthusiasm of the thing, and suggestions rippled around the circle. Someone pointed out that the youngsters of the Rabbit Society should ride and carry weapons wherever possible. From a little distance, the age and maturity of an armed rider would be difficult to evaluate.
    Tall One addressed her husband.
    â€œMy chief, could not the younger women dress in their husbands’ garments and carry weapons?”
    â€œNo one would take you for a warrior, mother!” The speaker was Coyote, poking fun at his daughter’s very pregnant abdomen. The circle rocked with laughter.
    â€œIt is good!” Heads Off was pleased with the idea. Perhaps not those with small children, but many could pass as warriors.

    The young women whispered together excitedly. Heads Off felt that this was good strategy. Not only would it give the appearance of more warriors, but some of the girls were quite adept with weapons.
    He had thought it strange, when he first joined the People, that both girls and boys took instruction in the Rabbit Society. His own wife, the Tall One, had been able to outrun him before her pregnancy with Eagle. She was skilled with the bow, a weapon he had never considered his best. And many of the older women, he knew, were expert with the throwing stick. He had seen Big Footed Woman, his mother-in-law, knock a rabbit cleanly with the short, heavy instrument. The women of the People had the knowledge and skills, and in an emergency attack, every weapon might be needed.
    The council broke up on an optimistic note. People scattered to their sleeping robes.
    â€œDo you think there will be trouble, my husband?” Tall One always called him “my husband,” especially in an emotional situation. She snuggled against him, the firm bulge of her abdomen reminding him of their vulnerability in case of attack.
    â€œDo you think so?” he evasively returned the question. “You know the People better than I.”
    â€œI do not know. If the Head Splitters think we are weak, they will try to kill us.”
    Yes, he thought, drawing her close, or steal our women. He remembered that, when he had first seen the traditional enemy, he had been told, “ … they steal our women. Our women are much prettier than theirs.”
    Now, that threat was much closer to his own awareness. He pulled Tall One protectively to the shelter of his arms and held her gently.
    â€œThen,” he stated positively, “we must be ready.”
    He wished he really felt as confident as he tried to sound.

15
    When the Elk–dog band resumed travel next morning, there was an entirely different mood. The depression of the previous day had been replaced by good-natured optimism. Young women, who had rebraided their hair in masculine style, donned garments of their husbands or fathers. They strutted around, brandishing weapons and looking completely like lithe young warriors, while families and friends joked and made fun.
    A number of women with young children pooled the youngsters under the care of one or two mothers, while the others took part in the deception. Heads Off was glad to see that the women handled the weapons well. There was some practicing in evidence, and a good-natured wager or two on a trial shot with the bow. Their proficiency was quite acceptable. The chief devoutly hoped that the ability of these young women in combat would never be tested. But it was well to be prepared.
    It was not entirely unheard of, among the People, for a woman to take up arms. There were stories of women who had stood fast in defense of their husbands in time of attack. One old woman was called “Bear’s Rump Woman.” As a young bride, the story