The Days of the Deer Read Free Page B

could hear it. It was coming from somewhere high up, from the top of an oak on my left. When I raised my head, I saw the feather fall. At that moment I heard the oriole sing.’
    ‘And what did you do, Thungür?’ This time it was Kush asking the question. She moved closer to her grandson, who was already much taller than her. Thungür knew what was
expected of him.
    ‘I was very quiet, and I didn’t move an inch from where I had come to a halt. I raised my hands with the palms cupped upwards.’
    ‘And you closed your eyes ...’ Kush whispered.
    ‘I closed my eyes so as not to try to catch the feather or avoid it. I waited. Time went by, and I thought it must have landed on the ground by now. But just as I was about to open my
eyes, I felt it drop into my hands.’
    Kush spoke again, as if remembering:
    ‘The oriole sang once more ...’
    That’s right,’ Thungür said. ‘Then it circled round my head, and flew off.’
    The forest was placing an oriole feather in the hands of a Husihuilke male. It was telling him that soon he would have to take on the responsibility for feeding and protecting his family. From
among its many voices, this was the one the forest had chosen to warn them that somebody was about to leave his home and his duties there. And that someone else had to take them on himself. This
time, the message was for Thungür. What was going to happen to Dulkancellin? Why would he no longer be at home, as he had been ever since Thungür could remember? How could he possibly
take the place of his father? Thungür tried hard to disguise his dismay, but his arms felt very heavy, and his legs were far too weak. What was going to happen? Who was going to show him what
he had to do?
    Thungür had no need to say any of this, because before he could speak he already had his answer.
    ‘Keep on walking towards the Valley. That is what you have to do now,’ Dulkancellin told him.
    Thungür hesitated, but Dulkancellin insisted, barely raising his voice:
    ‘Come on, Thungür, let’s go on.’
    So the family set off again towards the Valley of the Ancestors, walking as close as possible to each other. The youngest could see from their elders’ faces that something unusual was
going on, but preferred not to find out what it might be.
    Yet the same forest that had caused their anxiety now came to relieve it. The smell of the approaching rain and the clear outline of the trees as the wind swept over them convinced the family
that any suffering was still remote. In no time at all, their hearts were filled with optimism once more.
    Kume picked up a stone and skimmed it along the ground as far as he could. Thungür and Piukemán accepted the challenge. The three of them ran to where their stones had landed,
decided who had won, and threw them on again.
    Kuy-Kuyen and Wilkilén were walking hand in hand singing a lullaby. Kush smiled tenderly, and rummaged in her belongings until she found her wooden flute. To play it more easily, she put
her bundle on her back and rolled up the sleeves of her cloak. The simple, repetitive tune added to their renewed sense of tranquillity. Old Mother Kush was so concerned about sounding the right
notes that she walked more and more slowly. Her son and her granddaughters slowed down too, because they did not want to leave her behind.
    So it was to the rhythm of the flute that they finally reached the summit. At the Ends of the Earth, the land rose from the seashore through villages and trees until it became part of the
Maduinas mountain range. Often, the rising terrain was interrupted by a marsh or lake. It fell sharply for a waterfall, or sloped downwards for a while, and yet all the time it rose towards the
mountain peaks. The point where Dulkancellin and his family paused for a moment before they started out on the last stretch was where the descent into the valley began. The trees descended too,
until they were held back by the ring of white mushrooms.
    People from every