thillerman.theblessingway-第13节

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　Leaphorn　saw　smoke　rising　from　the　smoke　hole　of　the　ceremonial　hogan。　Sandoval；　who　had　been　burning　pine　and　willow　bark　by　the　brush　shelter；　had　collected　his　ashes　and　gone　into　the　log　building。　The　fire　inside　would　be　to　burn　sweet…grass；　dodgeweed；　rock　sage；　and　grama　mixed　with　crow　and　buzzard　feathers；　producing　a　sooty　substance　to　be　mixed　with　the　bark　ashes　and　used　to　blacken　the　patient　for　his　attack　on　the　enemy　scalp。　Over　the　fire；　Sandoval　would　be　singing　the　old　chants；　the　old　songs　to　the　Holy　People…not　prayers　of　humility　or　supplication；　and　not　pleas　for　forgiveness；　but　songs　which　sought　nothing　but　to　restore　man's　harmony　with　all　that　was　elemental。
　The　sagebrush　flats　were　stirring　with　activity　now。　A　horse　race　was　being　organized　behind　an　array　of　parked　pickups。　There　will　be　gambling　on　that；　Leaphorn　thought；　and　maybe　a　fight。　Cook　fires　were　burning　everywhere。　By　the　hogans；　the　women　of　the　family　were　preparing　the　ceremonial　food　which　two　girls　would　soon　take　out　to　provide　the　ritual　meal　for　those　ing　from　the　other　camp。　Leaphorn　felt　a　sudden　fierce　pride　in　The　People。　He　remembered　the　Blessing　Way　held　when　he　and　his　cousins　had　left　after　their　last　furlough　for　Camp　Pendleton　and　then　for　Saigon　and　Okinawa。
　He　remembered　the　sweat　bath　and　the　Singer；　even　older　than　Sandoval；　sprinkling　his　shoulders　with　the　sacred　pollen；　and　the　old；　cracked　voice　rising　over　the　rhythm　of　the　pot　drum。
　〃In　the　house　made　of　dawn；
　in　the　house　made　of　the　evening　twilight；
　in　the　house　made　of　dark　cloud；
　happily　may　he　walk。
　In　beauty　may　he　walk；
　with　beauty　above　him；　he　walks
　with　beauty　all　around　him；　he　walks
　with　beauty　it　is　finished；
　with　beauty　it　is　finished。〃
　Leaphorn　was　sleepy　now。　The　horse　race　had　been　run　and　won　by　a　boy　on　a　pinto；　amid　much　loud　laughter。　A　small　bare…bottomed　boy　had　walked　by　the　carryall；　smiled　shyly　at　Leaphorn；　and　relieved　himself　in　the　sage　nearby。　A　dozen　or　more　women；　with　their　families　fed　for　the　morning；　were　gossiping　raucously　around　an　old　and　rusty　sedan。　Three　teen…aged　girls　had　led　a　string　of　wagon　horses　down　to　the　spring；　watered　them；　and　put　them　back　on　the　picket　rope。　The　sky　was　cloudless　now　but　light　blue　and　hazy　on　the　horizons。　Later　the　thunderclouds　would　be　building　up　and　there　would　be　showers…at　least　over　the　mountains。　Leaphorn　saw　the　two　messenger　girls　lope　away　carrying　the　ritual　food　baskets　tied　to　their　saddles。　A　moment　later　to　the　north　he　heard　a　flurry　of　rifle　shots　and　a　swarm　of　horsemen　appeared　over　the　rim　of　the　flat；　whooping　and　trailing　plumes　of　dust。　Leaphorn　climbed　stiffly　out　of　the　carryall　to　watch　the　Encounter　Between　the　Camps。　He　glanced　at　his　watch。　It　was　10：12　A。M。
　It　was　late　afternoon　before　the　second　serenade　had　been　finished　and　the　gifts　exchanged。　They　had　been　thrown　out　to　the　crowd　of　visitors…first　the　sacrificial　sack　of　tobacco　thrown　through　the　smoke　hole　of　the　hogan　and　caught　by　a　little　girl　so　skinny　that　it　seemed　to　Leaphorn　that　she　might　blow　away　if　the　now…gusty　breeze　caught　in　her　voluminous　skirts。　The　child　had　run　to　her　mother　and　been　rewarded　with　a　hug；　and　then　three　men　of　Tsosie's　family　began　tossing　out　the　gifts　stacked　under　the　brush　shelter。　There　were　much　scrambling　and　laughing　and　some　sort　of　practical　joke　played　on　a　tall　man　with　a　mustache　and　two　long　braids　hanging　down　his　back。　The　joke　caused　an　uproar　of　laughter　and　knee　slapping　and　even　the　victim　was　grinning。
　Leaphorn　had　been　talking　to　a　young　woman　from　over　near　Toadlena　and　had　missed　the　point　of　the　fun；　but　he　gathered　from　the　shouted　remarks　that　it　was　bawdy。　He　had；　by　now；　been　talking　for　almost　six　hours　and　had　lost　all　count　of　the　number　of　people　he　had　questioned。　Most　of　them；　like　this　young　Salt　Water　woman　from　Toadlena；　seemed　to　know　nothing　at　all　about　subjects　which　interested　Leaphorn。　But　he　had　been　able　to　confirm　again　beyond　any　shade　of　doubt　that　Horseman　had　returned　to　this　country　after　the　affair　in　Gallup　and　to　learn　that　Billy　Nez　was　at　the　Stick　Carrier's　camp。　The　plump　young　man　with　the　horn…rimmed　glasses　had　told　him　that。　And　Horn　Rims　had　been　out　looking　for　a　stray　mule　and　had　seen　Horseman　walking　along　a　sheep　trail　back　toward　the　Lukachukais。　Horseman　was　his　second　cousin　and　he　had　stopped　to　talk　and　had　given　Horseman　some　tobacco。
　〃I　think　his　wife　had　gone　off　with　somebody　and　he　was　ing　back　to　his　mother's　family；〃　Horn　Rims　had　said。　He　then　explained　that　Luis　was　a　〃worthless　son　of　a　bitch。〃　In　Navajo；　the　insult　came　out　literally　to　the　effect　that　Horn　Rims'　second　cousin　was　a　stunted　male　member　of　a　litter　produced　by　a　collie　bitch。　Navajo　is　a　very　precise　and　unambiguous　language　and　the　statement　left　no　question　that　Horn　Rims　strongly　disapproved　of　his　second　cousin。　But　almost　two　weeks　had　passed　since　Horn　Rims　had　seen　Horseman　and　he　had　no　other　information　to　offer；　except　that　Billy　Nez　was　with　the　Stick　Carrier。
　The　long　afternoon　of　chatting　on　the　subject　of　the　witch　had　been　even　less　productive。　Leaphorn　felt　he　had　fairly　well　confirmed　what　Sandoval　had　implied…that　the　identity　of　the　witch　was　not　exactly　known。　Not　known；　at　least；　by　name；　and　family；　and　clan。　Leaphorn's　instinct　told　him　that　several　of　the　Red　Forehead　clan　he　had　talked　to；　mostly　kinsmen　of　Tsosies；　or　members　of　their　extended　〃outfit；〃　thought　of　this　witch　as　a　specific　person；　with　a　specific　face；　and　shape；　and　habits。　It　was　nothing　he　could　confirm。　Leaphorn　was　a　stranger　to　this　clan　and　he　faced　the　traditional　caution　of　The　People　where　witchcraft　was　concerned。　He　had　noticed　one　man　slip　his　hand　into　his　overalls　to　finger　a　sacred　shape　in　the　medicine　bag　tied　to　his　loin　cloth。　The　gesture　was　typical　of　what　he　knew　others　had　felt。　How　did　they　know　that　Leaphorn　himself　was　not　a　witch？　And　perhaps　seeking　those　who　knew　of　him　to　make　them　his　future　victims？　And　yet　among　the　garrulous　ones；　the　gossips；　there　had　been　some　specific　details。　Several　had　said　the　witch　was　a　man；　had　indicated　he　was　a　tall　man；　all　references　to　him　were　on　foot；　none　had　him　riding　a　horse。　The　accounts　Leaphorn　had　collected　of　the　witching　incidents　were　conflicting　and　overlapping　and　some　were　obviously　wildly　imaginative。　But　he　concluded　there　probably　had　been　at　least　two　or　three　persons　bothered　in　addition　to　Tsosie。　He　had　jotted　some　names　in　his　notebook；　but　even　as　he　did　it　he　wondered　why。　The　laws　he　enforced　had　been　taken　by　the　Tribal　Council　from　the　white　man's　laws　and　the　white　man　did　not　recognize　witchcraft　as　an　offense。
　It　would　bee　an　offense　only　if　some　specified　crime　was　involved。　There　had　been　a　case　of　extortion　once；　nothing　they　had　ever　proved；　but　enough　circumstantial　evidence　to　indicate　a　conspiracy　between　a　Star　Gazer　and　a　Singer　to　diagnose　witchings　and　split　fees　for　the　curing　ceremonial。
　Agnes　Tsosie　came　out　of　the　ceremonial　hogan　now　and　went　to　the　brush　shelter　with　a　crowd　of　women　relatives　and　the　Singer　from　the　Stick　Carrier's　camp。　Leaphorn　saw　that　one　of　the　women　was　rubbing　tallow　on　her　chin　and　juniper　sap　on　her　forehead。　Inside　the　hogan　the　same　thing　would　be　happening　to　Tsosie　and　the　other　male　kinfolks　who　would　be　taking　part　in　the　attack　on　the　scalp。　They　would　be　blackened　more　thoroughly　with　the　ceremonial　ashes；　as　Monster　Slayer　had　been　to　make　himself　invisible　before　his　attack　on　the　Ye…i。　If　Leaphorn's　memory　of　the　ceremonial　was　correct；　Agnes　Tsosie　would　only　watch　the　attack；　with　a　male　relative　serving　as　her　stand…in　during　the　ritual。　The　Singer　wasn't　needed　during　the　blackening　and　Leaphorn　saw　Old　Man　Sandoval　talking　to　the　Scalp　Shooter；　who　had　been　sitting　all　afternoon　beside　the　hogan　entrance；　guarding　a　pile　of　ashes。
　Scalp　shooting　required　a　professional；　although　his　role　in　the　ceremonial　was　simply　to　shoot　the　scalp　with　an　arrow　and　sprinkle　it　with　symbolic　ashes　to　signify　its　death。　Leaphorn　thought　he　had　seen　this　man　before；　helping　Singers　at　other　ceremonials。　He　wondered　idly　what　Sandoval　was　using　for　the　symbolic　scalp。　Ideally；　it　would　be　something　from　the　witch's　person；　a　clipping　of　hair　if　that　could　be　had；　something　with　his　blood　on　it；　or　some　article　of　clothing　which　had　absorbed　his　sweat。　Since　this　witch　was　unidentified；　the　symbolic　scalp　would　have　to　be　something　else。　Leaphorn　guessed　they　might　use　a　pouch　of　sand　from　a　footprint　or　something　else　they　thought　the　witch　had　touched。
　If　it's　hair；　Leaphorn　thought；　it's　going　to　mean　that　Sandoval　and　some　others　have　been　lying。　If　it　was　hair　or　something　bloody　he　would　have　to　confiscate　it　after　the　ceremonial　ended。　He　would　have　the　lab　check　it　with　Horseman's　and；　if　it　matched；　have　a　messy　murder　investigation　on　his　hands。　But　he　was　fairly　sure　Sandoval　hadn't　been　lying。　Linking　Horseman　to　the　witching　case　had　never　really　made　sense；　never　really　been　more　than　a　faint　possibility　where　no　other　possibilities　were　offered。　As　far　as　Leaphorn　could　pin　down　the　witching　gossip；　Horseman　had