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In a few more days, they found out why, as the ever shallower and ever
narrowing river led them to the very edge of the great groves of demon
flowers.
Even Father Alex knew that they could not be that far off course. The huge
flowers took up the whole center of the bowl-shaped region of the
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continent, but never close to the Families, or accessible to them. He
summoned Littlefeet.
"No, Father, this could not be where I saw the great demon flowers," he
concurred. "This must be new."
Father Alex sighed and nodded. "So that's it, then. They are expanding
their groves, and they have diverted rivers to ensure that their cursed
flowers get the water that they need. Such effortless power, and for what?
Giant flowers!"
"Why do they do this, Father? Why do they grow these and not care about us or
anything else?"
Father Alex shook his head. "Who can know how a demon thinks, my son? I am not
even certain
that we would understand it if we did know, nor, perhaps, should we spend much
time trying to imagine what demons think. Know only that they exist to
thwart the will of God and corrupt His creations, for that is the nature of
rebellion." He turned and looked away from the huge flowers. "I
be-lieve we should consider other questions of a more practical nature," he
added.
"Sir?"
"We cannot go in those groves. Now, at least, we can be reasonably certain
that this confusion was not directed at us but rather was the result of their
meddling further with creation. We dare not go into the grove. Those who go
into the groves tend to go mad. We must risk crossing the river. It appears
shallow enough at this point, but it is still wider than I would like, and you
never know about such things. Let's see who is the tallest warrior in the
Family? Walking Stick?"
"Yes, Father. He is a head taller than even you."
"He will do. Bring him to me, and we will see if this river can be crossed
along this point."
Littlefeet started to go find the tall man, but then he stopped. "Um Father?"
"Yes, my son?"
"What if it can't be crossed here?"
"We must cross it. Otherwise, our Family will surely perish, trapped in this
area with too little food and far too little land. Our protection
against the Hunters is the expanse of our territory.
Here well, sooner or later, Hunters will find us. No, we must cross. We must."
Walking Stock was tall and lean but not the strongest man for all his size. He
was a little ungainly even in normal walking, as if his body had grown up only
in some parts and not in others, and he was not at all thrilled with the idea
of taking a walk across a river.
"Tie vines together, as many as we can muster," Father Alex commanded. "If
possible, see if we can make a chain of vines that will span the very river!
This way, if Walking Stick falls in or it gets too deep, we can haul him back
in before he breathes water and dies."
It was the women who began assembling the vines while foragers came in with as
many more as they could find in the surrounding area. Littlefeet, however, was
looking for something else, and he found it in a curious log that he watched
float out of the grove beyond and come down, bobbing and weaving in the
current. He saw it hit something in the middle of the water and suddenly shoot
over toward the riverbank he was standing on. He walked downriver a
bit, pacing it, and was rewarded when it came very close to shore. At that
point he took a chance, waded in just a bit, and grabbed it.
The log was half his size, yet weighed almost nothing. It was incredibly
light, and easy to bring on shore. Catching his breath, he hauled it the
nearly full kilometer back north to where most of the
Family was preparing for the possible crossing.
"What is that?" several of the women asked, and some of the warriors laughed
and responded, "Littlefeet is going to float down the river on his great log!"
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Red-faced and upset at the derision, Littlefeet decided to show
them! Several of the Elders shouted for him to stop, and he could hear
Father Alex running up, bellowing at the top of his lungs, "Wait! Wait! Do not
let your pride kill you! You cannot swim!"
It was too late, and the taunts overwhelmed his otherwise keen sense
of self-preservation. He pushed it out into the flowing waters while
grabbing onto it tightly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]