Chapter 11

While Kodaco and I were good hunters, Dora was the magician of the cookfire. She took our flesh offerings, and instead of rendering them as burnt offerings as we men might do if left to our own devices, created savory stews and pots, with the expert addition of herbs and spicy wild onions for flavor, vegetables and cress for bulk and crunch, bulbs and nuts for thickening and heartiness. She also tanned and prepared the skins and furs, and manufactured attire from them. We had all worn through three pairs of soft shoes, but in reality, an additional sole was added on the outside, and more lining to the inside. In spite of all this work, she found time to decorate our clothing with feathers, beads, dyes, and designs. I had to caution her against making our traveling clothing very eye-catching, since we would rather not draw attention to ourselves, but to keep her happy allowed her to make clothing we never wore, that were shockingly coloured and festooned with gimcracks.

Our purpose was to sneak through the land, passing by any entanglements or confrontation. The unvarying plains, unless we were following a watercourse, tended to numb our minds with repetition and sameness, and we would often find we had walked all day without speaking, or much noticing our surroundings since it was much of a sameness, unless some event occurred to rouse us, such as a rain squall, or a tree break, or some creatures, or a bird making a shadow across the sun The haunting sound of the geese flying South alerted me to the coming of the colder season and I started gradually bending our course Southward. We came to the boundary between the grasslands and the barren lands, and tried to keep grass under my sledge's skids, while holding as Southerly a course as we could, to keep winter at bay for as long as possible.