Native American Short Stories

The Chetco Tribe (Part 2)

With a swift kick to his brother's ankle, the oldest boy didn't even glance in that direction.

"No, Mother. Of course not. Why would you even ask a question such as this?"

She caught Kuzih stealing a quick glance at his older brother, confirming every maternal instinct that she must be correct.

"My sister has heard stories, that's all," leaning her head to the side and narrowing her eyes. "She seems to think you enjoy creating truths where there are none; so, which girl do you wish to impress this season?"

Kuzih stood just a bit taller, confidence stiffening his backbone at hearing his mother acknowledge his attempts to woo the young women in their village.

"I have not decided who my next friend should be," he grinned. "I also do not know what your sister has heard, but my tongue speaks truth most of the time."

"Most of the time?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"I am still a young boy," he waved both hands in front of himself, as if his words were an explanation, not an apology.

His mother reached out to whack the top of his head in a playful gesture but missed her mark when he leaned off to the side.

"What will I do with you? Or you, for that matter," she shook her head at her eldest son. "He learned everything from you."

"Thank you," he accepted the compliment as he stuffed a boiled ear of corn into his mouth.

Their mother couldn't help but laugh; those two had kept her life full, that's all she knew.

"Be home before dark. Or by the time your father lays down to sleep," she mumbled as they were already halfway out the door.

"We can't let them know about the boat," Kuzih reminded his brother. "That is for the two of us and nobody else," he warned, aware of the fact that he was not the only one who knew about girls. "My hope was to keep it a secret all to myself, but I do not mind sharing it with you. Only you, though," he held up one finger in warning.

"You think too much."

"That isn't what Mother tells me."

"Never mind that – what are we telling them?"

Kuzih's eyes followed the path his brother stared down, only to find his friends marching toward him at full speed.

"What happened to you yesterday?"

"You did not finish your story," another added.

With an exaggerated swing of the arm, Kuzih drew the group to a large boulder and climbed on top, long, muscular legs pushling his weight upward; this is where he generally told most of his tales – sitting on top of a boulder somewhere along the river.

"Remember when we stopped to tie bands around that tree back there," his thumb wiggling behind himself and not waiting for any responses, "and your dog began running after something?"

He narrowed his eyes toward the chubby boy in an attempt to divert attention.

"Did any of you discover what he was chasing?"

Waiting - and hoping they had nothing to interject – he held his breath.

A couple of the boys shook their heads, exchanging blank glances at one another. He could only take this as a good sign and proceeded to allow unplanned words tumble from his lips.

"Just as all of you turned your backs, I was the one who could not move. My mouth opened, but nothing fell out. I could feel my eyes growing larger, but even my own breath stalled and refused to move. You dog had already smelled it and ran off, but I am the one who saw it," he forced himself to shudder at the false recollection.

"Saw what?"

"Think about this. What makes a dog crazy enough to run off from his boy?"

"A girl dog?"

The group of friends laughed.

"No, you must be thinking about my brother," he teased."It was a large yellow cat – perched right above our heads among those rocks," he pointed in a cautious facade toward the jagged river canyon walls. "We are always too busy with our games to look up and notice them, but this time, I did notice one!"

Kuzih's brother slapped a hand on a doubter's shoulder, jolting him a little.

"I am jealous of him; when he tracks it with our father, he will gain a new coat for the snows this year," he boosted his brother's tale. "All I ask is to come along with you and Father."

Almost wishing he would stop speaking and wipe that wistful look off his face, Kuzih leaped off the boulder, agreeing to take him along to search for a cat which never existed.

"Tell us more," his friends begged.

He shrugged.

"You already know what happened next. I called out for help and nobody heard me. Finally, I made a run for the village and instead ran into you. We should have stuck together," he narrowed his eyes once more, adding another layer of assertiveness just to make them feel bad all over again.

"The river is loud back there," came an apology. "we could not hear your call. We should all pay more attention," they agreed, their eyes sweeping the boulders overhead.

"It is growing cloudy, we do not want to be here when the rains begin."

"You go ahead of me," Kuzih waved them off. "We were supposed to bring Mother some things for the evening meal, and if we return with empty hands, it will not go well with us."

The boys parted ways and once the brothers had disappeared around a curve in the river, Kuzih formed a fist and punched his brother's arm.

"I save your skin and you hit me?"

"Why must your words run and run and run and -"

"Brother, it is my small gift to you," he winked. "Now, let's bring some flowers home to Mother. Some berries, too," he suggested as a hand already began to snatch a handful from the nearest blackberry bush.

Kuzih rubbed his belly. "You gather berries and I will grab a fish or two," he added to the gift-bearing, although he held ulterior motives for getting into the water.