Native American Short Stories

The Chetco Tribe (Part 3)

The wind blew through the river canyon, causing a howl to echo along the corridor as air bounced off chrysolepis and the enormous boulders on each side as the impending storm gave notice.

"I do not understand why these fish avoid me; the raindrops may be scaring them away" Kuzih lied as another pair nibbled at his toes. "Tell Mother I will be coming along soon; I am set on eating salmon tonight and am determined to bring at least two."

The unsuspecting brother nodded without looking at him He had his own worries at the moment..

"If I carry these berries much longer, they will become juice. I will help prepare the fire, you just bring enough fish to satisfy Father." Padding over toward the edge of the river so he did not have to speak so loudly, Kuzih's sibling added, "He will not be pleased with you being late again."

Nodding, he could not help but wince at the scolding.

"I know. But he was a boy once; does he not remember fishing and running or poking about the river's edge for that perfect rock?"

His brother's head lowered so enhance the scowl.

"He still does all those things! You must try harder to please him; one day when you have a son of your o-"

Kuzih stopped him cold.

"I have told you and Mother and Father: I will never be married! Why would I wish for children to slow me down and cause me to grow older before I am ready? No, brother, that is not a life for me."

But it was impossible to be angry with his brother for long, and allowed a grin to take the place of the grumpy appearance.

"You may change your mind later, but for tonight, bring those fish ready to cook. Mother does not enjoy chopping the heads off," he chuckled. "See you soon, " he waved as he turned his back and started off. "By the way, you must be blind. I see fish everywhere."

Waiting until his brother had disappeared, Kuzih snagged a few fish within minutes and looked overhead just in time to catch a stray raindrop right in the eyeball.

"This is great," he thought, knowing his play time under the canoe would now be cut short.

Securing the three salmon to a vine, the boy sucked in a deep breath and dove under the lip of the canoe, popping back up underneath it on the other side. Opening his eyes and swishing his head lightly to help water drip from his eyelashes, he placed an open palm against the floor of the boat as he instinctively always did, just to help sturdy himself and get his footing again. The rocks underfoot proved to be rather uneven and slippery, and he'd thought of moving the canoe down a bit, but reconsidered when he guessed the owner would see it had been moved.

Not that he cousin would mind. But it might cause him or someone else to remember it was there; at the moment, this was Kuzih's hiding place and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could.

Extending both arms out across the width of the canoe, he grabbed the edges and held on tight in order to sturdy the vessel against the rocking waters while his eyes adjusted to the vast darkness under there. The wind picking up, he began wondering if he was fighting a losing battle and gave up before long.

Rolling the stiffness from his neck and shoulders, Kuzih's sight slowly came into its own again, so he began to pull scoops of the bank away from the embankment with a grin; he would create the best hiding place for his treasures right there in that little hollowed-out place, and nobody would ever be the wiser. He would hide those gold-colored rocks he'd discovered downstream and some of the beads his grandmother gave him just before she passed on the other world.

Raindrops pelted the top of the canoe, but Kuzih ignored them as he hummed to a tune in his head and completely forgot all about those fish ... or his father;s impending anger.

Again.

The meal finished, including the bowls being rinsed off in the washing bucket, the environment at home began to feel a bit thick; Kuzih's siblings shrugged shoulders and grimaced at one another every time their mother sighed out loud and checked the door. The rain had been coming down far too long; that boy should have been home long before this time.

A thought had crept into the eldest brother's mind and he'd kept it silent long enough.

"Father, would you please listen to me for a moment?"

The man was in no mood for games; the household chores had not been done yet and Kuzih had once again not kept his word.

"Is this important?"

Nodding, he gave a quick tug of his head to the door and they both stepped outside, large bowls tugged down on top of their heads and they unsuccessfully attempted to hide from the storm.

"I may know where he is."

Father and son allowed their feet to carry them hastily toward the river, calling out as they bolted along.

"Kuzih!"

Lightening flashed and thunder rattled the boulders with such an intense strength, the lad nearly feared they might begin to break apart and come crashing down into the canyon on top of them. The only thing he could even be positive about was knowing there would be no large cats out in this. The pair raced over fallen logs, around intruding bushes and through almost needle-sharp drops of water.

When Father's footing slipped on the grass and sent the man into a sideways skid, he knew Kuzih was in big trouble for causing such a disturbance.

"Oh, that boy!" Father picked himself back up again; would he continue the search?

"There he is," his wiser son pointed out through narrowed eyes.

In a crag of the canyon, Kuzih sat pinned against the boulders as the river continued to rise.

Both hands fell in front of his brother, a look of wonder on his face at why he had placed himself in such a stupid place in a rain storm. Anger began to take the place of worry and he allowed the feeling to convey itself in his eyes.

"I know," Father acknowledged. "But if we return without him, your mother will be furious."

His brother's eyes continued to remain focused on Kuzih while he inquired, "Can we kill him once we catch him?"

"Tomorrow," Father nodded as he cupped a hand on his son's shoulder. "But first we have to bring him in alive."

Mother's fingertips smoothed the plant over her husband's wound; she did not even attempt to cover his words of discomfort as she smeared it across the open flesh.

"Kuzih, what were you thinking about tonight? You not only placed yourself in danger, but – I – we – you are in so much trouble; you have no idea how much work I have planned for you here at home. You may never even be able to see the other side of the village, that is how much work I have planned for your future days."

The young boy bowed his head; defeat began to sink in and he realized all the work he'd done had gone to ruin by now. No canoe: that had been snatched away by the racing waters. No hole in the bank: it got washed out once the water rose too high. No friends to play with: work would replace playtime. He wondered wistfully if he would even be allowed to breathe the same air as his father and brother for the next few moons.

Pretending to hang onto every single word his father whipped out at his ears, Kuzih knew one more thing for sure: he could never allow the other boys to find out the real story of how he found himself in such trouble!

He would need to come up with the best story he had ever told to cover this situation ...