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The old man knelt on one knee and meditated a moment over the fish, then with a gesture signaled a woman to come to him.
Elizabeth watched as the woman picked up the fish and carried it to a place of scoured rock beside the river. The rock was pitted with kettle-sized depressions, a result of glaciers and floods in the distant past.
The woman proceeded to clean the fish with the traditional tools—short bone shafts edged with razor-sharp rock chips set in slots. As each one dulled, they were discarded and other blades were fitted in the slots.
“This form of tool that Brown Susan is using is as old as the beginnings of our people,” Many Stars whispered, leaning closer to Elizabeth. “Our ancestors thousands of years before brought similar tools to the New World across a land bridge over the great sea.”
Elizabeth smiled at Many Stars, glad that she was able to participate in the rituals of the Suquamish.
For a moment her thoughts drifted to her father, wondering how he had reacted when he found the nets destroyed. She could not help but smile smugly at the thought. Yet she was sad at the same time, for her father was now lost to her forever.
And she would never experience the wonderful joy of seeing her mother and father reunited. It most surely would not happen now.
She belonged to Strong Heart now—not her troubled parents.
Pulling herself out of her sad thoughts, she looked toward several women who had been tending a fire while waiting for Strong Heart to spear the first salmon. The women began using sticks to pick up hot rocks from the fire and took them to one of the depressions in the rock, which had been filled with water, and threw the rocks into it.
Elizabeth saw that the rock kettle was about four feet wide and fairly deep. And when the water in it began to boil, the women put the salmon in it. After it was cooked, they removed it and began cutting it in small pieces, and distributed it, until everyone had had a taste of the first salmon.
Then the true harvest began.
Elizabeth was relieved when Strong Heart came down from the high rock. She smiled sheepishly at him as he turned her way, his eyes dancing, his face split with a wide grin.
Then she stood back with the other women as all of the men and boys joined in the harvest.
When the red rim of the sun slipped over the western horizon, and the shimmering afterglow faded into night’s darkness, the extent of the day’s catch was counted. Chief Smiling Wolf began supervising the distribution of the fish to the women, the shares based on family size.
Strong Heart came to Elizabeth, pride shining in his eyes. “Was it not a good day?” he boasted, slipping an elk-skin robe around his shoulders as the deep purple shadows of night brought with them the cooler temperatures of late autumn.
“A very good day,” Elizabeth murmured. “And so interesting. I loved every minute of it, Strong Heart. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of it.”
“Many moons ago, when the world was new, my ancestors discovered this fish which crowded into the rivers at the same time each year,” he said, wrapping an elk-skin robe around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Once our elders learned how to catch and preserve the salmon, my people learned Mother Earth had given us a gift beyond price. No longer would our children hunger in winter, or our old people go without food during the long, dark months. No longer would our warriors follow game across the land to keep our people fed. At last, our women could build and furnish permanent homes for their families.”
He swung an arm around Elizabeth’s waist and began walking her toward the river, where he soon found a quiet place for them to sit in privacy. He drew her lips close to his, their eyes twinkling into each other’s. “A reliable food supply always makes possible more children,” he said thickly. “My la-daila, soon we must discuss how large a family we will add to our people’s population.”
She thrilled
at the thought of bearing his children, and at the thought of their sons being the mirror image of their father.
She twined her arms around his neck and accepted his gentle, sweet kiss. Afterward, she was not surprised when he stretched out beside her and lay his head in her lap and fell asleep, exhausted from the long day of fishing.
As he lay there, sleeping soundly. Elizabeth contentedly stroked his dark hair, the pool of water before her blooming with stars.
Chapter 30
How delicious is the winning of a kiss!
—THOMAS CAMPBELL
Several days later the Suquamish were back at their village. This salmon harvest had been one of the largest in the history of Strong Heart’s people. As soon as they returned to the village, the women had begun digging huge pits in which to store the salmon. In the meanwhile, the fish was dried in the sun, then smoked to preserve its freshness. Once it was ready, the salmon was put in baskets, wrapped in cedar mats, then lowered into the pits, where it was covered with sticks to protect the haul from animals.
This year, the fishing had been so good, there was more than Strong Heart’s people would need to get through the winter. Word had gone out to other tribes, and some from the foothills of the Rocky Mountains had come to trade horses or buffalo skins for salmon.
With Strong Heart on one side of her, and Four Winds on the other, Elizabeth sat spellbound as she watched the male dancers. They celebrated the success of their salmon harvest, and welcomed the visitors who had come from far away to trade.
She had always loved the Fourth of July celebrations in San Francisco, with the fireworks bursting forth in the sky in various, blinding colors and shapes.
But tonight, as the moonlight flowed down from the sky with a white satiny sheen, she was more in awe of the dancers as they jumped and bounced in fast movements around the outdoor fire in time to the steady beats of the drums. The men wore clothing trimmed with tiny bells, which tinkled as they shook their blades of red obsidian.
