osc.am2.redprophet-第48部分

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ix　ears　to　the　stalk；　thicker　and　milkier　than　any　corn　had　ever　been　before。　Buffalo　and　deer　wandered　into　the　city　from　a　hundred　miles　around；　walked　to　the　cooking　fires；　and　lay　down　waiting　for　the　knife。　When　the　geese　flew　overhead；　a　few　from　every　flock　would　e　to　land　on　the　Wobbish　and　the　Tippy…Canoe；　waiting　for　the　arrow。　The　fish　swam　up　from　the　Hio　to　leap　into　the　nets　of　Prophetstown。
　　All　that　would　mean　nothing；　if　the　White　man　ever　brought　his　cannons　to　fire　grapeshot　and　shrapnel　through　the　fragile　wigwams　and　lodges　of　the　Red　city。　The　searing　metal　would　cut　through　the　delicate　walls　　that　deadly　driven　rain　would　not　be　held　out　by　sticks　and　mud。　Every　Red　man　in　Prophetstown　would　regret　his　oath　on　that　day。
　　Ta…Kumsaw　led　them　through　the　forest。　The　White　boy　ran　directly　behind　him。　Ta…Kurnsaw　deliberately　set　a　killing　pace；　twice　as　fast　as　they　had　run　before；　bringing　the　boy　and　his　brother　to　Mizogan。　They　had　two　hundred　miles　to　Fort　Detroit；　and　Ta…Kumsaw　was　determined　to　cover　that　distance　in　a　single　day。　No　White　man　could　do　it　　no　White　man's　horse；　either。　A　mile　every　five　minutes；　on　and　on；　the　wind　whipping　through　the　topknot　of　his　hair。　It　would　kill　a　man　to　run　so　fast　for　half　an　hour；　except　that　the　Red　man　called　on　the　strength　of　the　land　to　help　him。　The　ground　pushed　back　against　his　feet；　adding　to　his　strength。　The　bushes　parted；　making　paths；　space　appeared　where　there　was　no　space；　Ta…Kumsaw　raced　across　streams　and　rivers　so　quickly　that　his　feet　did　not　touch　the　bottom　of　the　stream；　merely　sank　just　deep　enough　to　find　purchase　on　the　water　itself。　His　hunger　to　arrive　at　Fort　Detroit　was　so　strong　that　the　land　answered　by　feeding　him；　giving　him　strength。　And　not　just　Ta…Kumsaw；　but　every　man　behind　him；　every　Red　man　who　knew　the　feel　of　the　land　within　him；　he　found　the　same　strength　as　his　leader；　stepped　in　the　same　path；　footfall　by　footfall；　like　one　great　soul　walking　a　long　slender　highway　through　the　wood。
　　I　will　have　to　carry　the　White　boy；　thought　Ta…Kumsaw。　But　the　footsteps　behind　him　　for　Whites　made　noise　when　they　ran　　kept　up；　falling　into　a　rhythm　identical　with　his　own。
　　That；　of　course；　was　not　possible。　The　boy's　legs　were　too　short；　he　had　to　take　more　strides　to　cover　the　same　ground。　Yet　each　step　of　Ta…Kumsaw's　was　matched　so　closely　that　he　heard　the　sound　of　the　White　boy's　feet　as　if　they　were　his　own。
　　Minute　after　minute；　mile　after　mile；　hour　after　hour；　the　boy　kept　on。
　　The　sun　set　behind　them；　over　the　left　shoulder。　The　stars　came　out；　but　no　moon；　and　the　night　was　dark　under　the　trees。　Still　they　didn't　slow；　found　their　way　easily　through　the　wood；　because　it　wasn't　their　own　eyes　or　their　own　mind　finding　the　way；　it　was　the　land　itself　drawing　them　through　the　safe　places　in　the　darkness。　Several　times　in　the　night；　Ta…Kumsaw　noticed　that　the　boy　was　no　longer　making　noise。　He　called　out　in　Shaw…Nee　to　the　man　who　ran　behind　the　White　boy　Alvin；　and　always　the　man　answered；　〃He　runs。〃
　　The　moon　came　up；　casting　patches　of　dim　light　onto　the　forest　floor。　They　overtook　a　storm　　the　ground　grew　moist　under　their　feet；　then　wet；　they　ran　through　showers；　heavy　rain；　showers　again；　and　then　the　land　was　dry。　They　never　slackened　their　pace。　The　sky　in　the　east　turned　grey；　then　pink；　then　blue；　and　the　sun　leapt　upward。　The　day　was　warming　and　the　sun　already　three　hands　above　the　horizon　when　they　saw　the　smoke　of　cookfires；　then　the　slack　fleur…de…lis　flag；　and　finally　the　cross　of　the　cathedral。　Only　then　did　they　slow　down。　Only　then　did　they　break　the　perfect　unison　of　their　step；　loose　the　grip　of　the　land　in　their　minds；　and　e　to　rest　in　a　meadow　so　near　the　town　that　they　could　hear　the　organ　playing　in　the　cathedral。
　　Ta…Kumsaw　stopped；　and　the　boy　stopped　behind　him。　How　had　Alvin；　a　White　boy；　traveled　like　a　Red　man　through　the　night？　Ta…Kumsaw　knelt　before　the　boy。　Tbough　Alvin's　eyes　were　open；　he　seemed　not　to　see　anything。　〃Alvin；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw；　speaking　English。　The　boy　didn't　answer。　〃Alvin；　are　you　asleep？〃
　　Several　warriors　gathered　around。　They　were；　all　somewhat　quiet　and　spent　from　the　journey。　Not　exhausted；　because　the　land　replenished　them　along　the　way。　Their　quiet　was　more　from　awe　at　having　been　so　closely　tied　to　the　land；　such　a　journey　was　known　to　be　a　holy　thing；　a　gift　from　the　land　to　its　noblest　children。　Many　a　Red　had　set　out　on　such　a　journey　and　been　turned　away；　forced　to　stop　and　sleep　and　rest　and　eat；　stopped　by　darkness　or　bad　weather；　because　his　need　for　the　journey　wasn't　great　enough；　or　his　journey　was　contrary　to　what　the　land　itself　needed。　Ta…Kumsaw；　though；　had　never　been　refused；　they　all　knew　it。　This　was　much　of　the　reason　Ta…Kumsaw　was　held　in　as　high　esteem　as　his　brother。　The　Prophet　did　miraculous　things；　but　no　one　saw　his　visions；　he　could　only　tell　about　them。　What　Ta…Kumsaw　did；　though；　his　warriors　did　with　him；　felt　with　him。
　　Now；　though；　they　were　as　puzzled　by　the　White　boy　as　Ta…Kumsaw　was。　Had　Ta…Kumsaw　sustained　the　boy　by　his　own　power？　Or　had　the　land；　unbelievably；　reached　out　and　supported　a　White　child　for　his　own　sake？
　　〃Is　the　White　like　his　skin；　or　Red　in　his　heart？〃　asked　one。　He　spoke　Shaw…Nee；　and　not　in　the　quick　way；　but　rather　in　the　slow　and　holy　language　of　the　shamans。
　　To　Ta…Kumsaw's　surprise；　Alvin　responded　to　his　words；　looking　at　the　man　who　spoke　instead　of　staring　straight　ahead。　〃White；〃　murmured　Alvin。　He　spoke　English。
　　〃Does　he　speak　our　language？〃　asked　a　man。
　　Alvin　appeared　confused　by　the　question。　〃Ta…Kumsaw；〃　he　said。　He　looked　up　to　see　the　angle　of　the　sun。　〃It's　morning。　Was　I　asleep？〃
　　〃Not　asleep；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw　in　Shaw…Nee。　Now　the　boy　appeared　not　to　understand　at　all。　〃Not　asleep；〃　Ta…Kumsaw　repeated　in　English。
　　〃I　feel　like　I　was　asleep；〃　he　said。　〃Only　I'm　standing　up。〃
　　〃You　don't　feel　fired？　You　don't　want　to　rest？〃
　　〃Tired？　Why　would　I　be　tired？〃
　　Ta…Kumsaw　didn't　want　to　explain。　If　the　boy　didn't　know　what　he　had　done；　then　it　was　a　gift　of　the　land。　Or　perhaps　there　was　something　to　what　the　Prophet　had　said　about　him。　That　Ta…Kumsaw　should　teach　him　to　be　Red。　If　he　could　match　grown　Shaw…Nee；　step　for　step；　in　such　a　run　as　that；　perhaps　this　boy　of　all　Whites　could　learn　to　feel　the　land。
　　Ta…Kumsaw　stood　and　spoke　to　the　others。　〃I'm　going　into　the　city；　with　only　four　others。〃
　　〃And　the　boy；〃　said　one。　Others　repeated　his　words。　They　all　knew　the　Prophet's　promise　to　Ta…Kumsaw；　that　as　long　as　the　boy　was　with　him　he　wouldn't　die。　Even　if　he　were　tempted　to　leave　the　boy　behind；　they'd　never　let　him　do　it。
　　〃And　the　boy；〃　Ta…Kumsaw　agreed。
　　Detroit　was　not　a　fort　like　the　pathetic　wooden　stockades　of　the　Americans。　It　was　made　of　stone；　like　the　cathedral；　with　huge　cannon　pointing　outward　toward　the　river　that　connected　Lake　Huron　and　Lake　St。　Clair　with　Lake　Canada；　and　smaller　cannon　aimed　inland；　ready　to　fend　off　attackers　on　land。
　　But　it　was　the　city；　not　the　fort；　that　impressed　them。　A　dozen　streets　of　houses；　wooden　ones；　with　shops　and　stores；　and　in　the　center　of　all；　a　cathedral　so　massive　that　it　made　a　mockery　of　Reverend　Thrower's　church。　Black…robed　priests　went　about　their　business　like　crows　in　the　streets。　The　swarthy　Frenchmen　didn't　show　the　same　hostility　toward　Reds　that　Americans　often　seemed　to　have。　Ta…Kumsaw　understood　that　this　was　because　the　French　in　Detroit　weren't　there　to　settle。　They　didn't　think　of　Reds　as　rivals　for　possession　of　the　land。　The　French　here　were　all　biding　their　time　till　they　went　back　to　Europe；　or　at　least　back　to　the　White…settled　lands　of　Quebec　and　Ontario　across　the　river；　except　the　trappers；　of　course；　and　for　them　the　Reds　were　not　enemies；　either。　Trappers　held　Reds　in　awe；　trying　to　learn　how　Reds　found　game　so　easily；　when　the　trappers　had　such　a　devilish　time　knowing　where　to　lay　their　snares。　They　thought；　as　White　men　always　do；　that　it　was　some　kind　of　trick　the　Reds　performed；　and　if　they　only　studied　Red　men　long　enough；　these　White　trappers　would　learn　how　to　do　it。　They　would　never　learn。　How　could　the　land　accept　the