The Days of the Deer Read Online Free Page B

news. Wilú-Wilú stood at the foot of the Maduinas Mountains, a long way from Whirlwind Pass, so that they could
meet up only a few times each year.
    The sky was rapidly turning dark; the air was growing colder. Sheltered in the valley, the Husihuilkes stared up at the wind above their heads just as Wilkilén had done, and predicted it
would be a hard journey home. The celebration would soon be over, and one single question was on everyone’s lips: where is Kupuka?
    Kupuka was not in the Valley of the Ancestors. The Earth Wizard, who saw further than anyone and knew the language of the drums, had not arrived as he usually did, his pack filled with
mysteries, to await the arrival of the rain with everyone else. The Husihuilkes felt strangely abandoned, and wondered what the reason for his absence could be.
    Someone who was not thinking about Kupuka heard the question repeated time and again, but paid no attention. Walking as if he wanted to remain invisible, he went through the mushroom ring and
carried straight on. He took the track to the west until the route forked into a narrow path. Branching off from the main route, this path did not head uphill, but immediately went down a steep
slope. After reaching here stealthily, the small fgure immediately started down at a surprising speed, compensating for the incline by leaning backwards. Almost at once, though, he heard a familiar
voice calling to him:
    ‘Piukemán! Piukemán, wait for me!’
    Somewhat surprised, but even more annoyed, Piukemán stopped and looked back. Wilkilén had followed him, and was coming down the path almost sitting down to avoid falling.
Piukemán climbed back up towards her.
    ‘What are you doing here, Wilkilén?’ he shouted furiously. ‘You always spoil everything!’
    ‘I don’t ...’ the girl stammered. Piukemán cut her short:
    ‘Don’t say a word!’
    Wilkilén’s black eyes brimmed with tears. As she always did when she was sad, she started playing with her plaits.
    ‘And don’t cry either!’
    This only brought on more tears: Piukemán was her beloved brother, and he had never treated her like this before.
    But Piukemán was no longer even looking at her. He was trying to decide whether to return to the Valley of the Ancestors, or to take his sister with him in his adventure. He could not let
her go back on her own. Then again, if he missed this opportunity he would have to wait until the Festival of the Sun, and that seemed too far away. Taking Wilkilén by the hand, he started
down the slope again.
    The path the two of them had taken was the only one that reached the Owl Gateway, beyond which it was forbidden to go.
    Of all the males in the family, Piukemán was the one who most resembled his mother. He had inherited from her a restless curiosity about everything. Shampalwe had paid with her life for
her interest in the strange flowers from the cave. Piukemán too would one day pay a high price. Ever since he was of an age to understand, he had been asking what lay beyond the Owl Gateway
and who had forbidden the Husihuilkes to go there. He had never received any answers, and so now he was determined to find out for himself. In previous years he had twice left the celebrations and
ventured as far as the boundary of what was permitted. Twice he had been overcome by fear, and had returned without daring to disobey the ban that came from time immemorial. Now, though,
Piukemán had lived through eleven rainy seasons, and refused to let another one go by without crossing the Owl Gateway. He would not be defeated a third time. Wilkilén’s sudden
appearance made him hesitate, and yet he could not accept having to back down again. He decided to go on, even if he had to drag his sister by the hand.
    The steep, narrow slope they climbed down with difficulty ended in a dark, gloomy hollow. The air was so cold and damp that it hurt when they drew breath. A deep carpet of leaves buoyed them up,
so that they could continue