osc.am2.redprophet-第58节

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　at　Tippy…Canoe。〃
　　One　time；　after　they　left　a　village　so　het　up　against　Whites　they　were　looking　with　interest　at　Alvin's　own　scalp；　Alvin　got　to　feeling　defiant　and　he　said；　〃Why　don't　you　have　me　tell　them　about　how　you　and　I　and　Taleswapper　all　got　into　Eight…Face　Mound？〃　Ta…Kumsaw's　only　answer　was　to　walk　so　fast　that　Alvin　had　to　run　all　day　just　keeping　up。
　　Traveling　with　Ta…Kumsaw　was　like　traveling　alone；　when　it　came　to　pany。　Alvin　couldn't　remember　ever　being　so　lonely　in　his　life。　So　why　don't　I　leave；　he　asked　himself。　Why　do　I　keep　going　with　him？　It　ain't　like　it's　fun；　and　I'm　helping　him　start　a　war　against　my　own　folks；　and　it's　getting　colder　all　the　time；　like　as　if　the　sun　gave　up　shining　and　the　world　was　supposed　to　be　grey　bare　trees　and　blinding　snow　from　one　end　to　the　other；　and　he　don't　even　want　me　here。
　　Why　did　Alvin　go　on？　It　was　partly　Tenskwa…Tawa's　prophecy　that　Ta…Kumsaw　never　would　die　if　Alvin　stuck　close　by。　Alvin　might　not　like　Ta…Kumsaw's　pany；　but　Alvin　knew　he　was　a　great　and　good　man；　and　if　Alvin　could　somehow　help　keep　him　alive；　then　it　was　his　duty　to　give　it　a　try　as　best　he　could。
　　But　it　was　also　more　than　that；　more　than　the　duty　he　felt　to　the　Prophet；　to　care　for　his　brother；　more　than　the　need　he　felt　to　act　out　the　terrible　punishment　of　his　family　by　telling　the　tale　of　Tippy…Canoe　all　over　the　Red　man's　country。　Alvin　couldn't　exactly　find　it　in　words　to　tell　himself　inside　his　head　as　he　ran　along　through　the　woods；　lost　in　a　halfway　dream；　the　green　of　the　forest　guiding　his　footsteps　and　filling　his　head　with　the　music　of　the　earth。　No；　that　wasn't　a　word　time。　But　it　was　a　time　of　understanding　without　words；　of　having　a　sense　of　rightness　about　what　he　was　doing；　a　feeling　that　Alvin　was　like　the　oil　on　the　axle　of　a　wagon　wheel　that　was　carrying　great　events　forward。　I　might　just　get　myself　all　used　up；　I　might　get　burned　away　by　the　heat　of　the　wheel　rubbing　on　the　axle；　but　the　world　is　changing；　and　somehow　I'm　part　of　what's　helping　it　go　forward。　Ta…Kumsaw's　building　something；　bringing　together　Red　men　to　make　something　out　of　them。
　　It　was　the　first　time　Alvin　understood　that　something　could　be　built　out　of　people；　that　when　Ta…Kumsaw　talked　them　Reds　into　feeling　with　one　heart　and　acting　with　one　mind；　they　became　something　bigger　than　just　a　few　people；　and　building　something　like　that；　it　was　against　the　Unmaker；　wasn't　it？　Just　like　Alvin　always　used　to　make　little　baskets　by　weaving　grass。　The　grass　was　nothing　but　grass　by　itself；　but　all　wove　together　it　was　something　more　than　grass。
　　Ta…Kumsaw's　making　something　new　where　there　wasn't　nothing；　but　the　new　thing　won't　e　to　be　without　me。
　　That　filled　him　with　fear　of　helping　make　something　he　didn't　understand；　but　it　also　filled　him　with　eagerness　to　see　the　future。　So　he　pressed　on；　pushed　forward；　wore　himself　down；　talked　to　Reds　who　started　out　suspicious　and　ended　up　filled　with　hate；　and　stared　most　of　every　day　at　the　back　of　Ta…Kumsaw；　running　ahead　of　him　ever　deeper　into　the　forest。　The　green　of　the　wood　turned　gold　and　red；　then　black　with　the　rains　of　autumn　on；　the　bare　trees；　and　finally　grey　and　white　and　still。　And　all　his　worry；　all　his　discouragement；　all　his　confusion；　all　his　grief　for　the　terrible　things　he　saw　ing　and　the　terrible　things　he'd　seen　in　the　past　　all　turned　into　a　weary　distaste　for　winter；　an　impatience　for　the　season　to　change；　for　the　snow　to　melt　and　spring　to　e；　and　then　summer。
　　Summer；　when　he　could　look　back　and　think　of　all　this　as　the　past。　Summer；　when　he'd　know　pretty　much　how　it　all　turned　out；　for　good　or　ill；　and　not　have　this　sickening　snow…white　dread　in　the　back　of　his　mind；　masking　all　his　other　feelings　the　way　snow　masked　the　earth　beneath　it。
　　Until　one　day　Alvin　noticed　that　the　air　was　somewhat　warm；　and　the　snow　had　slacked　off　the　grass　and　dirt　and　was　purely　gone　from　the　tree　limbs；　and　there　was　a　flash　of　red　where　a　certain　bird　was　getting　itself　ready　to　find　him　a　wife　and　nestle　in　for　egg　season。　And　on　that　very　day；　Ta…Kumsaw　turned　eastward；　up　over　a　ridge　of　hills；　and　stood　perched　atop　a　rock　looking　down　on　a　valley　of　White　men's　farms　in　the　northern　part　of　the　White　man's　state　of　Appalachee。
　　It　was　a　sight　Alvin　had　never　seen　before　in　his　life。　Not　like　the　French　city　of　Detroit；　people　all　packed　in　together；　nor　like　the　sparse　settlements　of　the　Wobbish　country；　with　each　farm　carved　out　like　a　gouge　in　the　greenwood　forest。　Here　the　trees　were　all　disciplined；　lined　up　in　rows　to　mark　off　one　farmer's　field　from　another。　Only　on　the　hills　skirting　the　valley　were　the　trees　somewhat　wild　again。　And　as　the　ground　softened　today；　there　were　farmers　out　cutting　the　earth　open　with　their　plows；　just　as　gentle　and　shallow　on　the　face　of　the　earth　as　those　Red　warriors'　flint　knives　against　their　thighs；　teaching　the　blade　to　thirst；　teaching　the　earth　to　bear；　so　that　like　the　blood　that　seeped　upward　under　the　Red　men's　knives；　the　wheat　or　maize　or　rye　or　oats　would　seep　upward；　make　a　thin　film　of　life　across　the　skin　of　the　earth；　an　open　wound　all　summer　until　harvest　blades　made　another　kind　of　cut。　Then　the　snow　again；　it　would　form　like　a　scab；　to　heal　the　earth　until　the　next　year's　injury。　This　whole　valley　was　like　that；　broken　like　an　old　horse。
　　I　shouldn't　feel　like　this；　thought　Alvin。　I　should　be　glad　to　see　White　lands　again。　There　was　curls　of　smoke　from　a　hundred　chimneys　up　and　down　the　valley。　There　was　folks　there；　children　getting　outside　to　play　after　being　penned　up　the　whole　of　winter；　men　sweating　into　the　chilly　air　of　early　spring　as　they　did　their　tasks；　hard…working　animals　raising　a　steam　from　their　nostrils　and　off　their　hot；　heaving　flanks。　This　was　like　home；　wasn't　it？　This　was　what　Armor　and　Father　and　every　other　White　man　wanted　to　turn　the　Wobbish　country　into；　wasn't　it？　This　was　civilization；　one　household　butting　up　into　the　next　one；　all　elbows　jostling；　all　the　land　parceled　out　till　nobody　had　no　doubt　at　all　who　owned　every　inch　of　it；　who　had　the　right　to　use　it　and　who　was　trespassing　and　better　move　along。
　　But　after　this　year　of　being　with　Reds　practically　every　minute　and　hardly　seeing　a　White　man　except　for　Measure；　for　a　while；　and　Taleswapper　for　a　day　or　two；　why；　Alvin　didn't　see　that　valley　with　White　eyes。　He　saw　it　like　a　Red　man；　and　so　to　Alvin　it　looked　like　the　end　of　the　world。
　　〃What're　we　doing　here？〃　Alvin　asked　Ta…Kumsaw。
　　In　answer；　Ta…Kumsaw　just　walked　right　down　from　the　mountain　and　on　into　the　White　man's　valley；　just　like　he　had　a　right。　Alvin　couldn't　figure；　but　he　followed　tight。
　　To　Alvin's　surprise；　as　they　traipsed　right　through　a　field。　half…plowed；　the　farmer　didn't　so　much　as　yell　at　them　to　mind　the　furrows；　he　just　looked　up；　squinted　at　them；　and　then　waved。　〃Howdy；　Ike！〃　he　called。
　　Ike？
　　And　Ta…Kumsaw　raised　his　hand　in　greeting　and　walked　on。
　　Alvin　like　to　laughed　out　loud。　Ta…Kumsaw；　being　known　to　civilized　farmers　in　a　place　like　this；　known　so　well　that　a　White　man　could　tell　who　he　was　at　such　a　distance！　Ta…Kumsaw；　the　most　ferocious　hater　of　Whites　in　all　the　woodland；　being　called　by　a　White　man's　name？
　　But　Alvin　knew　better　than　to　ask　for　explanation。　He　just　followed　close　behind　till　Ta…Kumsaw　finally　came　to　where　he　was　going。
　　It　looked　to　be　a　house　like　any　other　house；　maybe　a　speck　older。　Big；　anyway；　and　added　onto　in　a　jumbly　way。　Maybe　that　corner　of　the　house　was　the　original　cabin；　with　a　stone　foundation；　and　then　they　added　that　wing　onto　it　bigger　than　the　log　house；　so　the　cabin　no　doubt　got　turned　into　a　kitchen；　and　then　another　wing　across　the　front　of　the　cabin；　only　this　time　two　stories　high；　with　an　attic；　and　then　an　add…on　in　the　back　of　the　cabin；　right　across　the…roof　of　it；　keeping　the　gable　shape　and　framing　it　with　shaped　timbers；　which　were　whitewashed　clean　enough　once；　but　now　were　peeling　off　the　paint　and　showing　grey　wood　through。　The　whole　history　of　this　valley　in　that　house　　desperately　just　throwing　up　enough　of　a　cabin　to　keep　rain　off　between　battling　the　forest；　then　a　measure　of　peace　to　add　a　room　or　two　for　fort；　then　some　prosperity；　and　more　children；　and　a　need　to　put　a　grand　two…story　face　on　things；　and　finally　three　generations　in　that　house；　and　building　not　for　pride　but　just　for　space；　just　for　rooms　to　put　folks　into。
　　Such　a　house　it　was；　a　house　that　held　the　whole　story　of　the　White　man's　victorious　war　against　the　land　in　its　shape。
　　And　up　walks　Ta…Kumsaw　to　a　small　and　shabby…looking　door　in　the　back；　and　he　does　not　so　much　as　knock；　he　just　opens　the　door　and　goes　inside。
　　Well；　Alvin　saw　that；　and　for　the　first　time　he　didn't　know　what　to　do。　By　habit　he　wanted　to　follow　Ta…Kumsaw　right　into　the　house；　the　way　he'd　followed　him　into　a　hundred　mud…daubed　Red　man's　huts。　But　by　even　older　habit　he　knew　you　don't　just　walk　right　into　a　house　like　this；　with　a　proper　door　and　all。　You　go　round　to　the　front　and　knock　polite；　and　wait　for　folks　to　invite　you　in。
　　So　Alvin　stood　at　the　back　door；　which　Ta…Kumsaw　of　course　didn't　even　bother　to　close；　watching　the　fir