The Kin by Peter Dickinson Read Free Book Online Page A

were at the lake, Paro had put what was left of the fox leg to roast among the hot embers of the fire. When they returned she gave them other food, soft lumps of yellow stuff and dark strips of sun-dried root, which they chewed until all the nutty flavour was gone, and then spat the rest out. The root was strange to them, but the Kin used to make the same kind of yellow stuff from pounded seed, mixed with water. They ate it eagerly.
    When the meat was cooked, Paro hacked the flesh off it with a good strong cutter, and handed it around. It was delicious after days of raw flesh, but their stomachs were tired of meat and they didn’t eat much.
    When they had finished, Suth signalled to the others and they all rose and stood in a line in front of Paro, clenched their fists, and knocked their knuckles together three times.
    Food was seldom plentiful, so even when it was, one Kin never accepted a meal from a different Kin without the regular ritual of thanks. Sula laughed aloud, as if they’d done something extraordinary. Paro simply smiled, and spread her hands in a vague gesture.
    â€œWe have plenty,” she said.
    This made Suth puzzled and uneasy. The Moonhawks had done what they knew was the right thing, but Sula had answered rudely, and Paro as if they’d done something stupid. Sula had been friendly, and Paro kind, but how could he trust these people if they behaved like that?
    â€œWe cannot take and take from your store,” he said. “Show me where we can forage for food, and not make others angry.”
    â€œIt is far,” said Paro. “Your small ones are tired, and the baby is heavy to carry.”
    â€œThey stay,” said Suth. “I go with Tinu. But we have no gourd, to carry food home.”
    â€œWhat is gourd?” she asked. “We take leaves, to carry.”
    She showed him one. It was thick and leathery, and far larger than any he had ever seen. Carefully she turned the ends up and folded it down the middle rib, tucking the folded ends in, and then slid it under her arm. She put the fingers of her other hand together and mimed picking a seed head and dropping it between the two halves of the leaf. Then she handed it to him.
    â€œI cannot come,” she said. “My child is almost born. Sula shows you, but she must come back for the birth.”
    Suth looked at Noli, and she nodded. He felt relieved. This at least was something that was the same among the Kin. If a woman had a daughter and was pregnant again, the daughter must be there at the birthing to see how all was done, so that she would know when her own time came. A mother who bore no more children might ask permission for her daughter to watch when other mothers gave birth. This was important woman lore.
    Suth thanked her again, and the three of them set out, with Sula carrying the bone from the fox leg. Before long they came to a narrow deep ravine. The place reeked. Three vultures rose as they reached the edge. Sula tossed the bone in.
    Suth peered over the edge. On the floor of the ravine lay an immense pile of bones, picked clean by scavengers. He was amazed, stupefied. The Kin, of course, used to carry such stuff well clear of wherever they rested, so there was often a scattering of bones ringing their regular camps, but never like this. These people, how long had they lived here to make such a pile? Tens and tens and more tens of rains. They had this one Good Place with so much in it to hunt and forage that they never needed to journey to another. His mind wouldn’t think about it. It was too strange.
    Sula led them above the line of scrub, until they reached a ground rat warren. Several traps had been set, the kind that Suth had watched his father make—a large rock propped on a triangle of sticks, and baited so that when the bait was moved the sticks gave way and the rock fell. Tinu at once crouched by one of the traps and studied it intently.
    â€œLook,” said Sula. “Baga catches