Herbert, Frank Read online

  Katsuk released David's wrists, sat down facing the boy. He said: "You will want to know what happened. I will tell it."

  I am Hoquat, David reminded himself. I must keep him calm.

  David watched Katsuk's lips, eyes, listened for any change of tone, any sign of emotion. Words came slow cadence from Katsuk's mouth: "Raven . . . giant bird . . . devil machine. . . ."

  The words carried odd half-meanings. David felt he was hearing some fanciful story, not about a helicopter but about a giant bird called Raven and Raven's victory over evil.

  Katsuk said: "You know, when Raven was young, he was the father of my people. He brought us the sun and the moon and the stars. He brought us fire. He was white then, like you, but fire smoke blackened his feathers. It was that Raven who came back today and hid me from your devil machine -- black Raven. He saved me. Do you understand?"

  David trembled, unable to comprehend or to answer.

  Katsuk's eyes reflected cobalt glints in the cave's half-light. The sunlight pouring in the entrance behind him put a honey glow on his skin, made him appear larger.

  "Why are you trembling?" Katsuk asked.

  "I . . . I'm cold."

  "Are you hungry?"

  "Y-yes."

  "Then I will teach you how to live in my land. Many things are provided here to sustain us -- roots, sweet ants, fat grubs, flowers, bulbs, leaves. You will learn these things and become a man of the woods."

  "A w-woodsman?"

  Katsuk shook his head from side to side. "A man of the woods. That is much different. You are sly and have a devil in you. These make the man of the woods."

  The words made no sense to David, but he nodded.

  Katsuk said: "Raven said to me we can travel by daylight. We will go now because the hoquat will be sending men on foot. They will come to this place because of your sly handkerchief."

  David ran his tongue over his lips. "Where are we going?"

  "Far into the mountains. We will find the valley of peace, perhaps, where my ancestors put all the fresh water once."

  David thought: He's crazy, pure crazy. And he said: "I'm thirsty."

  "You can drink from the spring. Stand up now."

  David obeyed, wondered if the thongs would be tied on his wrists. His side hurt where he had slept on the rock floor of the cave. He looked at the light flaring outside. Travel by daylight . . . with a helicopter out there somewhere?

  Was pursuit close on their heels? Was crazy Katsuk running in daylight because searchers were near?

  Katsuk said: "You think your friends will fly to us in their devil machine and rescue you."

  David stared at the cave floor.

  Katsuk chuckled. "What is your name?"

  "Hoquat." Without looking up.

  "Very good. But your friends will not see us, Hoquat."

  David looked up into staring dark eyes. "Why not?"

  Katsuk nodded at the cave mouth. "Raven spoke to me out there. He told me he will conceal us from all searchers in the sky. I will not even bind you. Raven will keep you from running away. If you try to escape, Raven will show me how to kill you. Do you understand me, Hoquat?"

  "Y-yes. I won't try to escape."

  Katsuk smiled pleasantly. "That is what Raven told me."

  * * *

  * * *

  Genesis according to Charles Hobuhet, from a paper for Anthropology 300:

  And therefore a man shall leave his father and shall leave his mother and he shall cling to the spirit which binds him to his flesh, being naked before this flesh as he can be naked before no other. And were he not ashamed before this nakedness, aware of this bone from his bones, then shall his flesh be closed and made whole. Then the heavy sleep shall fall upon this man, though he built a god. And finding no other helper, all the names of man shall be his. And his god shall cause the heavens to fall that every beast of the field might call the man, seeking a soul. A living soul is its name. All the cattle, all the fowl, every creature shall be brought unto the man to see what was formed from the primal substance into a living soul. And man, to his separation from that which formed him, will say only its name, thinking this his helper of helpers. But Alkuntam has said: "Not being good, thou shalt die. And all things that live shall become flesh of your flesh, and a separation from the heavens -- and therefore a man."

  * * *

  * * *

  The noise of a helicopter had awakened Katsuk shortly after noon. He lay motionless in the shadow of the spruce, locating the sound before he lifted his head. Even then, he moved slowly, as an alerted animal, aware that the low limbs concealed him, but avoiding any disturbance to attract a searcher's attention.

  The helicopter came in over the trees below the rock slope, climbed to circle above his hiding place, went out and around once more. The thwock-thwock of its rotors dominated all other sounds around Katsuk as the machine circled over the cliff above him and back over the open ground of the slope.

  Katsuk peered upward through the concealing limbs. Sunlight flashed from the helicopter's bubble canopy. The machine was green and silver with Park Service markings on its sides. Under the sound of its rotors it made a greedy hissing noise which set perspiration flowing in Katsuk's palms.

  Why did they keep circling? What attracted them?

  He knew the spruce hid him, but the abrasive presence of the searchers sank into his nerves, sent his mind leaping to escape.

  Around and around the helicopter went, circling the open slope with its boundaries of cliff and trees.

  Katsuk thought of the boy in the cave. The men in the helicopter would have to land and shut down their machine before they could hear a shout. They could not land atop the cliff, though: Stunted trees grew from the rocks up there. And the slope below the slide was too steep.

  What were they doing here?

  Katsuk tore his attention from the circling machine, scanned the slope. Presently, his gaze focused on something out of place. Far down the slope below the slide, in the narrow strip of grass and bracken before the trees, something unnaturally white glistened.

  Where all else should be gray and green an odd whiteness lay draped in the bracken. A sharp woodsman's eye in that helicopter had seen it.

  Katsuk studied the white thing as the helicopter made another pass. What was it? The wind of the rotors disturbed the thing, set it fluttering.

  Awareness exploded in him: Handkerchief!

  Hoquat had slipped a handkerchief out of his pocket and let it fall there. Again, the wind from the helicopter stirred the square of cloth, betrayed its alien nature.

  The thing shouted to an observer that something man-made lay there in the wilderness, far off the usual trails. Such a thing here would arouse a searcher's curiosity.

  Once more, the helicopter came in over the trees below the rock slope. It flew dangerously low, tipped to give the man beside the pilot an opportunity to study the white object through binoculars. Katsuk saw sunlight flash from the lenses.

  If the searcher aimed his binoculars into the shadows beneath the spruce, he might even detect a human shape there. But experience worked against the men in the aircraft. They had recognized the nature of the rockslide. They could see wind from their craft raising dust in the shale. They would see the slide as a barrier to a man on foot, especially to a man encumbered by an inexperienced boy. They would know a man could not climb that slope.

  The pilot tried to hover his craft over the slope, giving his observer a steady platform, but a strong wind beat across the cliff in turbulent eddies. The helicopter bounced, slipped, drifted close to the tree-tops. The engine roared as the machine climbed out over the rocks. It skidded in a gust of wind, went around for another circuit.

  Katsuk crept farther back into the trees.

  The pilot obviously was daring, but he would know the perils of attempting a landing near the white object which had attracted him. He must have radio, though. He would have reported the strange thing he had seen. Searchers on foot would be coming. />
  Again, the helicopter skimmed in low over the trees, dipped across the slope. Engine sound filled the air.

  A slow, grinding rumble came from the rocks below Katsuk. The slide began to move as the helicopter's thunderous vibration loosed a key rock in that delicate balance on the slope. The movement of the slide built momentum with ponderous inevitability. Tufts of dust puffed in the tumbling gray. The rocks gathered speed, raised a storm noise that drowned out the mechanical intruder. The machine climbed out of the clearing just above a rising cloud of dust that lifted into the wind. The odor of burnt flint drifted into the notch past Katsuk.

  Abruptly, a flock of ravens that had perched silently in the grove behind Katsuk through all the disturbance took flight. Their wings beat the air. Their beaks opened. But no sound of them could be heard above the avalanche.

  The entire slope was in motion now. A great tumbling maelstrom of rock roared downward into the trees, buried the bracken, hurled bark chips from the trunks. Smaller trees and brush snapped and were smothered beneath the onslaught.

  As slowly as it began, the slide ended. A few last rocks bounded down the slope, leaped through drifting dust, crashed into the trees. The ravens could be heard now. They circled and clamored against this outrage in their domain.

  From a circling path high over the clearing, the helicopter played background to the ravens.

  Katsuk peered up through the limbs at all the motion.

  The helicopter drifted out to the right, came in for another pass over the subsiding dust of the rockslide. The handkerchief was gone, buried beneath tons of rocks. Katsuk distinctly saw one of the men in the bubble canopy gesture toward the ravens.

  The flock had opened its ranks, whirled, and called raucously around the intruder.

  The machine slid across Katsuk's field of vision. It climbed out over the trees and its downdraft sent the birds skidding.

  Some of the ravens settled into the trees above Katsuk while their mates continued dipping and feinting around the helicopter.

  The machine climbed out westward, set a course toward the ocean. The sound of its engines faded.

  Katsuk wiped wet palms on his loincloth. His arm brushed the knife at his waist, made him think of the boy in the cave.

  A handkerchief!

  The ravens had protected him -- and the rockslide. The spirits might even have started the slide.

  As certainly as if he had heard the man's voice, Katsuk knew the searcher who had gestured at the ravens had explained that the birds were a sure sign no human was around. The aircraft had gone elsewhere to search. Its occupants were secure in the message of the ravens.

  Head bowed, Katsuk silently thanked Raven.

  This is Katsuk who sends gratitude to Thee, Raven Spirit. I speak Thy praise in a place where Thy presence was made known. . . .

  As he prayed, Katsuk savored appreciation of the ignorant hoquat beliefs. Whites did not know The People had sprung from Raven. Raven always guarded his children.

  He thought about the handkerchief. There had been one in Hoquat's pocket. Surely, that was the one on the slope.

  Instead of angering him, the defiant gesture ignited a sense of admiration. Darling . . . clever . . . little Hoquat devil? Even the most innocent remained sly and resourceful. Hands tied behind him, terror in his heart, he still had thought to leave a sign of his passage.

  Awareness growing within him, Katsuk studied the small seed of admiration he now held for Hoquat. Where could such a feeling lead? Was there a point of admiration that might prevent Hoquat's death? How much were the spirits willing to test Katsuk?

  The boy had almost succeeded with that handkerchief.

  Almost.

  This then was not the real test. This was a preliminary skirmish, preparation for something greater to come.

  Katsuk felt wild awareness telling him why the boy had failed. Something was tempering them here -- both of them. Katsuk sensed that his own thinking had changed once more, that these events had been anticipated. The blur of black wings, that waterfall of ravens, had seized upon his awareness. He was being watched and guarded.

  Fear had searched all through him and left him clean.

  What had it done to the boy?

  The blue-gray panting of the rockslide, the dust cloud rising like steam, had set the wilderness in motion, had given it a new voice which Katsuk could understand.

  Tamanawis, the being of his spirit power, had been reborn.

  Katsuk rubbed his place on his hand where Bee had marked him. His flesh had absorbed that message and much more: a power that would not be stopped. Let the searchers send their most sophisticated machines against him. He was the Bee of his people, driven by forces no hoquat machine could conquer. All that lived wild around him helped and guarded him. The new voice of the wilderness spoke to him through every creature, every leaf and rock.

  Now, he could remember Janiktaht with clarity.

  Until this moment, Janiktaht had been a dream-sister: disheveled, drowned, eyes like torches among treacherous images. She had been a tear-clouded mystery, her perfume the rotting sea strand, her soul walled in by loneliness, a graceless memory, accusing, united with every witch enchantment of the night.

  Now his fears lay buried in the rockslide. He knew the eyes of Charles Hobuhet had seen reality: Janiktaht dead, sodden and bloated on a beach, her hair tangled with seaweed, one with a welter of lost flotsam.

  As though to put the seal on his revelation, the last of the raven flock returned from pursuit of the helicopter. They settled into the trees above Katsuk. Even when he emerged boldly from the spruce shadows and climbed to the cave where Hoquat lay captive, the ravens remained, talking back and forth.

  * * *

  * * *

  Fragment of a note left at the Sam's River shelter:

  Your words perpetuate illusion. You clot my mind with foreign beliefs. My people taught that Man is dependent upon the goodwill of all other animals. You forbade the ritual which taught this. You said we would be punished for such thoughts. I ask you who is being punished now?

  * * *

  As they picked their way down the remnants of the rockslide and walked openly into the forest, David told himself the helicopter was sure to return. The men in it had seen his handkerchief. Katsuk as much as admitted that. What did all his insane talk about ravens have to do with anything real? The men had seen the handkerchief; they would return.

  David looked over his shoulder at the cliff, saw a thin cloud above it clinging like a piece of lint to the clear-blown sky.

  The helicopter would return. People would come on foot.

  David strained to hear the sound of rotors.

  * * *

  * * *

  Katsuk had led him into solid shadows under trees, and David prayed now that the aircraft would come only when they were in a clearing or on a trail not shielded by trees.

  Crazy Indian!

  Katsuk felt the pressure of the boy's thoughts, but he knew the two figures in this forest gloom were not people. No people passed this way. They were primal elements who snagged their essence upon bits of time like animal fur caught on thorns. His own thoughts went as wind through grass, moving this world only after they had passed. And when they had passed, everything behind them resolved itself into silence, almost-but-not-quite the way it had been before their intrusion.

  Yet -- something changed.

  They changed something essential that could be felt on the farthest star.

  Once Katsuk stopped, faced the boy, and said:

  "Therefore the flight shall perish from the swift, and the strong shall not strengthen his force, neither shall the mighty deliver himself. That's what it says in your hoquat book. It says he that is courageous among the mighty shall flee away naked in the day. You hoquat had some wise men once, but you never listened."

  Another time, they rested and drank at a spring that bubbled from a ledge. A green river roared in its chasm below them. High clouds rippled the sky and
there were hill shadows on gray rocks across the river.

  Katsuk pointed down to the river. "Look."

  David whirled, stared down, and in the quick rhythm of light flung by the river into the canyon's gloom he saw a brown deer swimming, its head thrusting at the far shore. The light and sound and animal movement roaring together dazzled his mind.

  There was a dark chill in the wind, and as they left the spring David sensed the quick silence of the forest birds. More clouds had accumulated. A deerfly crouched on his arm. He watched it pause and take flight. He had long since given up hope that Katsuk would produce food from this wilderness. It had been talk, just talk -- all those words about food in this place. Katsuk had said it himself: Words fooled you.

  David's eyes was caught by the venturesome racing of a squirrel's feet along a high limb. He wondered only if the creature could be caught and eaten.

  The day wore on. Sometimes Katsuk talked about himself and his people, fanciful stories indistinguishable from reality. They moved through damp woods, through sunlit clearings, beneath clouds, beneath dripping leaves. Always, there was the sound of their own footsteps.

  David forgot about his hunger in the presence of great weariness. Where were they going? Why were there no more aircraft?

  Katsuk did not think of a destination, saying, "Now we are here, and we will go there." He felt himself changing, sensed the ancient instincts taking over. He sensed blank places growing in his memory, things he no longer knew in the ways this hoquat world accepted.

  Where would the changes in him lead?

  The answer unfolded in his mind, the spirits revealing their wisdom: The workings of his brain would go through a deep metamorphosis until, at last, his mind lay like a drunk within his driven self. He would be Soul Catcher entirely.

  There was a spring shadowed by a giant cotton-wood. Deer tracks led up to it and all around. Katsuk stopped and they drank. The boy splashed his face and collar.

  Katsuk watched him, thinking: How powerful, this young human, how strange, drinking from that spring with his hands. What would his people think of such a lad in such a pose?