Cover

Dedication

To Ray Tehanetorens Fadden, Alice Dewasentah Papineau, Tom Sakokwenionkwas Porter, Audrey Gonwaiani Shenandoah, and Chief Jake Tekaronianeken Swamp—Friends, Teachers, and true Wisdom Keepers to whom I will always be grateful.

The Land of the Five Nations

chapter one

THE HUNTERS

“Where did the boy go?” an angry voice asked.

“He can’t be far. Grab him as soon as you see him!” The voice that answered was calm but cold.

They were, indeed, close to Okwaho’s hiding place in the blackberry tangles. It was not yet the time of the fall rains, when it would be safe to burn away the dried undergrowth. So the half-green bushes on his side of the trail were still thick. Even now, with the midday light of Elder Brother Sun shining brightly down on the land, it was dark within the bushes where he hid.

He began to sing—not out loud, but inside his mind. Songs have power. His uncle, At the Edge of the Sky, had taught him that, praised him for his singing.

You will not see me.

You will not see me.

You will pass on by.

You will pass on by.

They were getting even closer. Though they were not speaking now, he could hear not only their feet crushing the twigs on the path but also their heavy breathing.

If I hadn’t crawled in here, he thought, I’d be caught now. A captive like Tawis. The thought of what had just happened to his friend troubled him more than what might happen to him.

•   •   •

The two of them had gone together to the stream that flowed into the small river near their village. They knew that fishing there would be better, that at this time of the year big trout sometimes left the main water to run upstream into the creeks. It had not been that far for them to walk, no longer than the time for Elder Brother Sun to rise another hand’s width up into the sky. And despite the fact that there was always the threat of enemies, things had been calm for their little community since the decision to leave the big village of Onondaga.

There were only fourteen families, fifty people altogether, who made that decision. It had been suggested first by the women who were the heads of those families and the men had agreed. All of them had lost friends and family members to the conflict that never ended. As long as they remained in the big village, led by Atatarho, their giant chief whose every thought was of war, more of those they loved would die.