Savages of Gor

14 It is a Good Trading; Pimples; I Learn Something of the Waniyanpi; CornStalks; Sign; Grunt and I Will Proceed East

The red-haired girl cried out in pain and fear, struck from her knees back inthe grass by the plump, scornful woman of the red savages, a sturdy-leggedmatron of the Dust Legs. She looked up at her in terror. Slave girls know thatthey have most to fear from free women.

"Wowiyutanye!" hissed the Dust-Leg woman at the frightened girl lying on herside in the grass before her.

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl in Gorean, uncomprehendingly.

The men at the trading point scarcely paid them any attention.

I sat nearby, a blanket spread out before me, on which I had spread out variousof the trade goods, mostly mirrors, dyes and beads this afternoon, which I hadbrought into the Barrens.

The Dust-Leg woman threw the girl to her right side in the grass and pulled upthe tunic on her left thigh. The girl, terrified, did not resist. "Inahan!" called the Dust-Leg woman to the others about, pointing to the brand on thegirl's thigh. "Guyapi!"

"Ho," said one of the men, agreeably. "Inahan," agreed another.

"Winyela!" announced the woman.

"Inahan," said more than one man.

"Cesli!" said the woman scornfully to the girl.

"Please do not hurt me, Mistress," said the girl, in Gorean.

"Ahtudan!" cried the woman at her, angrily, and then she spat upon her.

"Yes, Mistress," said the red-haired girl. "Yes, Mistress!" She then pulled upher legs and looked down, into the grass.

The Dust-Leg woman turned away from her and came over to where I sat behind theblanket. She beamed at me. The Dust Legs, on the whole, are an affable,openhearted and generous people. They tend to be friendly and outgoing.

"Hou," said the woman to me, kneeling before the blanket.

"Hou," said I to her.

It is difficult not to like them. Most trading is done with them. They tend tobe the intermediaries and diplomats of the western Barrens.

The woman opened a rectangular hide envelope, a parfleche, slung on a strap overher shoulder. In it were various samples of beadwork and some small skins. Sheput some of these things on her edge of the blanket.

"Hopa," I said, admiringly. "Hopa."

She beamed, her teeth strong and white in her broad, reddish-brown face.

She pointed to a small mirror, with a red-metal rim. I handed it to her.

I glanced back. Behind us and to the side the red-haired girl, timidly,frightened, had resumed a kneeling position. I do not think that she hadpersonally offended the Dust-Leg woman. I think it was rather that the Dust-Legwoman simply did not entertain any great affection for white female slaves. Manywomen of the red savages, in spite of the wishes of their men, do not approve ofsuch soft, curvaceous, desirable trade goods being brought into the Barrens.

The Dust-Leg woman carefully examined the small mirror. I looked beyond her, toa few yards away; where several kailla of the visiting Dust-Legs, were tethered.

There, with the animals, a two-legged one, and lovely legs they were indeed,doubtless by the paws of her master's beast. She wore a brief garment offringed, tanned skin, rent and stained, doubtless a castoff from some freewoman's shirtdress, shortened to slave length. She was wet with sweat and darkwith dust. Her hair, which was dark, was wet, and tangled and matted. Her legs,bloodied and muchly scratched, were black with dust and sweat. Here and thereone could see where the trickle of perspiration had run through the dust. On herthighs where she had rubbed her hands the dust was streaked in wet smears. Shehad been run beside her master's kaiila and apparently not slowly.

Grunt was engaged in conversation with four or five of the Dust-Leg men. Then herose to his feet, and went to his stores, to bring forth a fine hatchet.

The female slave of the Dust Legs, kneeling by the kaiila, wore a beaded collar,about an inch and a half in height. It was an attractive collar. It was lacedclosed, and tied snugly shut, in front of her throat. The patterns in thebeading were interesting. They indicated her owner. Similar patterns are used bygiven individuals to identify their arrows or other personal belongings. It isparticularly important to identify the arrows, for this can make a difference inthe division of meat. It is death to a slave, incidentally, to remove such acollar without permission. Furthermore the collar is fastened by what is, ineffect, a signature knot, a complex knot, within a given tribal style, whosetying is known only to the individual who has invented it. It is thus, for mostpractical purposes, impossible to remove and replace such a collar without themaster, in his checking of the knot, by untying and retying it, being able totell. Suffice it to say, the slaves of the red savages do not remove theftcollars. The girl kept her head down. She apparently was not being permitted toraise her eyes at the trading point. She might, thus, if the master wished, havecome and gone from the trading point without having seen anything or recognizedanything, unless perhaps the grass between her knees and the paws of hermaster's kaiila. Gorean slaves, incidentally, wherever they may be found, say,in the cities or in the Barrens, are generally kept under an iron discipline. Itis the Gorean way.

"Two," said the Dust-Leg woman, in Gorean, holding up two fingers. She indicatedthe mirror, now lying before her, and two beaded rectangles, drawn from herparfleche. This type of beadwork is popular in curio shops in certain Goreancities, far from the perimeter; it may also be fashioned by leather workers intovarious crafted articles, such as purses, pouches, wallets, belt decorations;envelopes and sheaths. Interestingly this type of article is more popular awayfrom the perimeter than near it. It is not merely that it is more common nearerthe perimeter but, I think, that it serves as a reminder, near the perimeter, ofthe reality and proximity of the red nations, whereas these same nations, ortribes, far from the perimeter tend to be regarded not only as remote but asalmost mythical peoples. The ear-splitting cry of a Kaiila warrior, for example,has seldom awakened a good burgher of Ar from his slumbers.

"Five," I suggested to the Dust-Leg woman. I recalled that Grunt had, two daysago, at another trading point, received five such rectangles for a similarmirror. I smiled when I made this suggestion to the Dust-Leg woman. In suchtrading, it is a good idea, on both sides, to smile, a great deal. This makesthe entire exchange, if one takes place, a good deal more pleasant for bothparties. Not only are tensions eased but vanities are less likely to becomeinvolved in the trading. It is easier, if one is smiling, to get a little lessthan one would like, or to give a bit more than one might otherwise choose to.

Concessions, thus, for both sides, are less like defeats and more like favorsbestowed on friends. In the long run, this increases the percentage of mutuallysatisfactory bargains, and the individual who has found dealing with yousatisfactory, of course, is more likely to deal with you again. He becomes, ineffect, a customer. It is better to make less profit on a customer and have himcome back than make a higher profit and not see him again. These, at any rate,were the sentiments of Grunt, who seemed popular with the Dust Legs, and, as faras I can tell, they are substantially sound.

I glanced again to the white female slave of the Dust Legs, kneeling, eyes down,in her beaded collar, by the kaiila. I thought if she were washed and combed shemight not be unattractive. It was easy to see why Dust-Leg men might find suchgoods of interest. It might be pleasant to have such a lovely animal about, tocook one's meat, to keep one's lodge and please one, humbly and obediently, inthe furs. I could also see why Dust-Leg women could view such a commodity withdistaste and contempt. How could they, free, begin I compete with a slave? Howcould they even begin to do it unless they, themselves, also became slaves?

"Two," said the Dust-Leg woman.

"Five," I said. My interest in the Barrens, of course, was not in trading. Asfar as I was concerned I might have give the woman the mirror. On the otherhand, I realized, and Grunt had made it clear to me, too, that one must notinsult the red savages nor deal with them unrealistically, particularly in thelight of other traders and merchants who might follow me. If I gave away goods,or traded them too cheap this would suggest that I was delivering cheap orinferior merchandise, an inference it would not be in our interest for redsavages to draw. Too, if they thought the goods sound, they might think they hadbeen paying too highly for them in the past, or expect that future dealers woulddeal with them similarly, which, of course, they not be likely to do, nor beable, realistically, to afford to do.

One of the Dust-Leg men was examining, with great care the hatchet which Grunthad shown him. Grunt excused himself and rose to his feet. One does not hurryred savages in their perusals of products.

Grunt went again to his stores and brought forth some packages, wrapped in waxedpaper. "Canhanpisasa," said Grunt. "Canhanpitasaka. Canhanpitiktica." He thenbegan pass out, to the Dust-Leg men and women about, pieces candy, lumps of cakesugar and flakes of dried molasses. The woman with whom I was dealing, too,received a palmful of molasses flakes. She smacked her lips. Grunt and she thenexchanged what I took to be appropriate civilities and compliments.

She pointed to Grunt. "Wopeton," she said. "Akihoka, Zontaheca."

I looked at Grunt. I knew one of his names among red savages was Wopeton, whichmeans Trader, or Merchant.

"She says I am a skillful and honest fellow," he said.

"Hopa! Wihopawin!" he said to her.

The plump woman doubled over, laughing. "Hopa', I knew meant "pretty' or" attractive'.

"Wawihaka! Wayaiha!" she laughed.

"I told her she was a pretty woman," said Grunt, "and now she is teasing me. Shesays I am a joker, one who makes others laugh."

"Two," said the Dust-Leg woman to me.

"Five," I said to her.

Grunt looked about, the sweets in his hand. He saw a red youth near the men,sitting together. He motioned him to come closer. The lad wore a shirt, leggingsand a breechclout, so much perhaps because he was visiting at a trading point.

Grunt offered him some of the sweets. The young man shook his head, negatively.

He was eyeing the red-haired girl.

"Ah!" said Grunt. Then he turned to the red-haired girl "Strip," he told her.

Swiftly, unhesitantly, a slave, frightened, she did so. "Be flattered," saidGrunt to her. "Our young visitor finds you of greater interest than some bits ofmolasses." He then put his boot squarely in her back and thrust her forward, onher belly, before the young man. "Please him," he said.

"Master?" she asked.

"Rise to your knees before him," he said. "Remove his breechclout with yourteeth. Attempt to interest him in you."

"Yes, Master," she wept. But it would not be the first time she had pleased oneof Grunt's visitors.

Grunt watched the girl struggle to her knees. He replaced the sweets, wrappingthem, carefully in his pouch.

The girl looked up, frightened, at the red youth.

"Four," I said to the Dust-Leg woman. I supposed I should have actually set myoriginal price higher. Already I would obtain less for the small mirror thanGrunt had for a comparable item the day before yesterday.

"Winyela," said the Dust-Leg woman, in disgust, glancing behind me to thered-haired girl.

I glanced back. Frightened, and humbly, and delicately she was pleasing theyouth. I had little doubt but what he would find her of interest.

"Winyela," said the Dust-Leg woman, and spat into the grass, A few yards away, near the kaiila, the white slave girl of the Dust Legs kepther head down, not daring to raise it.

Grunt had now gone back to the coffle, where most of his girls huddled together,the chain on their necks, and removed Ginger, and Ulla and Lenna, the twoSwedish girls, from the chain. All of the girls in the camp, with the exceptionof the red-haired girl, had now been named. In each case their former Earth namehad been put on them, but now, like a brand, by their master's decision, as aslave name. The two Americans, beside the red-haired girl, were Lois and Inez;the French girl was Corinne; the two English girls were Priscilla and Margaret.

That the red-haired girl had not been named as yet was not a function of thefact that either Grunt or myself saw any difficulty with Millicent as a slavename. The former debutante's name seemed to us quite suitable for a slave'sname. It was rather that he did not yet wish her to be named. She was tocontinue, for the time, as a nameless slave. The object of this was to lower herstanding in the camp, and to assist in her training. Granting her in hospitalityto various of his guests had a similar object. Grunt now came forward, Ulla andLenna bent over, one on each side of him, their hair in his hands. Gingerfollowed, a pace or two behind. Five of his girls were, now, not in the coffle,four of these being the red-haired girl, and Ginger, and Ulla and Lenna. Theother was the English girl, Margaret, whom he had put naked, her legs pulled up,under a kailiauk hide, on the grass.

Grunt threw both of the girls to their knees near the sitting men. He thenjerked their tunics from them. "Bring your hair forward, over your breasts," hesaid. "Cover yourselves, as best you can." His commands were translated, rapidlyand expertly, by Ginger. The two girls complied immediately. They coveredthemselves, as they could, with their hair. They crossed their hands and coveredtheir breasts. They clenched their knees together. They put their heads down.

The seated men laughed. It amused them to see slaves in such postures. Did theythink they were free women, before captors? Yet, too, I think there were fewthere who were not aroused seeing the women in this position. Such a position,in its pathetic pretense to modesty, begs to be rudely terminated; it taunts themaster, in effect, to the ensuing and uncompromising exposure of the slave. Sucha position, if prolonged more than a few moments, can become a nuisance orinconvenience to the master. It is, thus, seldom lengthily tolerated. Itsprimary value, and there is little other reason for permitting the slave toassume it, is to lead her to believe, and hope, that she may be accorded sometiny particle of dignity or respect, an illusion which then, to her shame andhumiliation, may be totally shattered by the master.

Grunt then drew in the grass, with the heel of his boot, a circle, some ten feetor so in width.

He then looked to the Dust Legs. One of the men stood up and pointed to Ulla.

Grunt then ordered her to stand in the circle, orders conveyed by Ginger, which,frightened, half crouched over, she did.

I saw that the red youth now had the red-haired girl on her back in the grass.

"Resist, to the best of your ability," said Grunt to Ulla. She nodded her head,frightened, hearing the translation from Ginger.

The Dust Leg then, with a rawhide thong, stepped into the ring in the grass.

Ulla tried to resist him, as best she could, but, in a moment, bruised andvomiting, he not having been gentle with her, she was on her belly in the grass,her hands being jerked behind her and tied. He then put her on her back on thegrass, pulling her up so that she rested on her elbows. He kicked her legsapart.

"Eca! Eca!" said the other men.

"Eca!" agreed Grunt, heartily.

"You, Lenna, my dear, now," said Grunt. "Into the circle! Fight! Fight!"

Ginger translated this, but I think Lenna needed little in the way oftranslation.

Clearly Lenna did not wish to be abused, as had been Ulla. On the other hand sheknew she must obey, and to the best of her ability.

Another red warrior leaped into the circle, a bit of rawhide thong loosely inhis mouth. Lenna struck wildly out at him and he seized her wrist turning herabout and thrusting her wrist high and painfully behind her back. She screamed.

I feared be would break her arm. Then he kicked her feet out from under her andshe was on her belly. He then seized her by the hair with both hands and yankedher up on her knees and bent her backwards, until her head was at the grass,exhibiting the bow of her captured beauty for his fellows. Then he threw herforward, again, on her belly, and, in a moment, kneeling across her body, hadlashed her wrists tightly behind her body. He then, like his fellow, turned herto her back, pulled her up, so that she rested on her elbows, and, standing up,over her, kicked her legs apart, too. Ulla and Lenna, together, then, lay in thecircle, up on their elbows, their legs kicked apart. The second fellow hadhandled Lenna even more rapidly, I thought, than had the first fellow handledUlla. Both girls had been speedily vanquished, and both now, helpless, laytrussed, their legs symbolically spread, at the feet of their conquerors.

"Eca!" said the men. "Eca!" commended Grunt. "Eca!"

"Remember," said Grunt to the helpless Ulla and Lenna, "you are to be totallypleasing to masters. You are never, unless commanded to do so, to resist oroppose them in any way. Your hands could be cut off or you could be tortured andkilled."

"Yes, Master," said the girls, fearfully, in Gorean, following Ginger'stranslation.

Ulla looked at the man who had vanquished and bound her. Lenna regarded the manwho had served her similarly, and with such dispatch. Neither of them, I think,had expected to be made so helpless so quickly, and with such strength. Lennaand Ulla exchanged glances and then looked away from one another, reddening,shamed. They had been well bound, as women, and as slaves. Doubtless they werewondering what it would be like to be owned by such men.

Grunt then sat down and began to talk with the other men, not the two stillstanding, as though nothing had happened, as though it had been only a bit ofsport with two imbonded sluts, only an amusement for the entertainment of hisguests.

One of the standing men pointed to Ulla, and said something. The other pointedto Lenna, and, too, said something.

"Oh?" asked Grunt, innocently.

I smiled to myself. It is hard for a man to subdue and bind a naked womanwithout wanting her. I thought Grunt would get an excellent price for the twobeauties.

The red-haired girl, whimpering, was still lying beneath the red youth, clutchedin his arms. She looked at me, frightened. He was again, eagerly, at her body.

She had well succeeded, it seemed, as her master had desired, in arousing hisinterest. He had turned her about, roughly, curiously, this way and that, fromtime to time, caressing her and examining her, and making her please him. Therewas some blood at her mouth, where, once or twice, he had cuffed her. I saw herhands, half wanting to grasp him, half wanting to thrust him back. He wasspeaking to her in Dust Leg, slowly and clearly. "Yes, Master," she whimpered,in Gorean. "Yes, Master." It amused me that the youth, like so many individualsto whom only one language is familiar, so familiar that it seems that all humansmust, in one way or another, be conversant with it, seemed to think that thegirl must surely understand him if only he would speak slowly enough and withsufficient distinctness. Grunt, of course, might have helped her, but he wasengaged in business. I, myself, though I had acquired a few words of Dust Leg,had little more idea, specifically, of what the youth was saying than the girldid. His tone of voice suggested that he was not commending her on her beauty, apastime on which the masters are inclined to waste little time with their whiteslaves, but ordering her to do something. "Relax," I told the girl. "Let looseof yourself. Feel. Yield."

She looked at me, frightened.

"You are a slave," I told her. "Yield, and yield fully-and as a slave."

She then, gratefully, clutched the youth, and put her head back, rapturouslysobbing and shuddering.

I then saw that my presence, interestingly, had had an inhibiting influence onher. She bad been on the brink of yielding, a nerve's width away, but had beenfighting her feelings and herself, apparently shamed to yield as a slave toanother man in my presence.

She cried out with pleasure, clutching the red youth.

"Winyela," said the Dust-Leg woman, scornfully.

Slave girls must yield, and fully, to any man. Their entire mental set, so tospeak, in the furs, is oriented toward providing the master with marvelouspleasures, and, in their own case, to feel as richly and deeply as possible,and, in the end, in an uncompromised and delicious capitulation, submittingfully to their master, to obtain the surrender spasms of one who is merely avanquished woman, naught but an owned and degraded slave. This is quitedifferent from the mental set taken by the free woman to the furs, of course,with attendant deleterious consequences for the free woman, in so far as anywoman could be called free who is not surrendered and owned. The free woman isexpected to pervert her nature in the furs, behaving as a cultural identicalrather than as what she is by nature, the servant and slave of her master. It islittle wonder that the free woman, concerned with her putative identically, herstatus, her image, her dignity and pride, is often inhibited and sexually inertin the furs. The Goreans say that if one has never had a slave one has never hada woman. Similarly there is a secret saying, among Gorean men, that no female isa woman, who has not been made a slave. The free woman, often, fears to feel.

The slave, on the other hand, fears not to feel, for she may then, in alllikelihood, be punished. The same frigidity which may be accounted a virtueamong free women, figuring in their vanity competitions, how well they canresist men, is commonly among slaves an occasion for the imposition of severediscipline; it can even constitute a capital offense. The degraded slave haslittle choice but to yield, and yield well. An interesting question arises as towhether a woman, permitted her own will in the matter, as a slave is not, can beforced to yield. There are two answers to this question, and the divisionbetween the answers is primarily a function of the time involved. Within a givenamount of time, say, half of an Ahn, some women can resist some men. On theother hand, there will be some men whom they cannot resist and to whom, despitetheir will in the matter, they will find themselves uncontrollably yielding.

Given a longer amount of time, however, any woman may be made to yield, whethershe wishes to or not, by any man. Sometimes, after such a yielding, she is thencollared. "Resistance is now no longer permitted," he tells her. "Yes, Master," she says. She now knows that she, as a slave, must open herself to feeling, andeven seek it avidly, even knowing whence it leads, to the acknowledgment of themale as her master, and of her as his slave.

Behind me the red-haired girl was whimpering with pleasure in the arms of thered youth.

"Winyela," snorted the Dust-Leg woman, contemptuously.

"Four," I said, recalling her attention to our bargaining.

"Two," she said, eyeing the mirror.

"Four," I said.

"Three," she said, suddenly, beaming, the fine, strong teeth bright in herbroad, reddish-brown face.

"Three," I agreed. I saw she wanted the mirror.

I gave her the mirror and she gave me the three beaded rectangles. She then roseup, well pleased, and took her leave. I folded up the blanket with the goods,and the beaded rectangles, within it. I had certainly not driven a difficultbargain. Grunt, two days ago, had received five such articles for a similarmirror. I should, I supposed, have set my original price higher.

I looked to my right and I saw the two red warriors tying beaded collars on thenecks of Ulla and Lenna. Kailiauk robes lay on the grass. Earlier today Grunthad fashioned a travels for his pack kaiila. Such a device, the poles crossingover the withers of the kaiila, reduces the animal's speed but makes it possiblefor it to transport a heavier weight. Travels are common, particularly in themovements of camps, among he red savages. Travois, I suspected, would be heavilyladen by the time Grunt was ready to return to Kailiauk.

I glanced to where the kaiila of the Dust Legs were located. The girl there, thedark-haired girl in the beaded collar, still knelt as she had been placed, atthe paws of her master's kaiila. Her head was still down. She did not look up.

She was under excellent discipline.

Between where the men sat and the coffle, a bit to the right, was the spread-outkailiauk robe under which Grunt had put Margaret, naked, her legs drawn up. Shehad been under the robe for hours. It would be hot under the robe, in the sun,and there would be insects in the grass. I grinned. I think she was learning herslavery. It was a clever trick on Grunt's part. Certainly the Dust- Legs who,like most red savages, are an inquisitive, observant folk, would be curious asto the precise nature of the goods which lay beneath that robe. Clearly it was awoman. Was Grunt trying to hide her?

I saw leather thongs put on the necks of Ulla and Lenna, the beaded collarsthrust up to admit them. These thongs were then tied to the high pommels of thekaiila saddles. Such saddles are not uncommon among the red savages, though theyare commonly used for visiting, trading and ceremonial journeys. The hunting andwar the red savage commonly rides bareback. The thongs were some seven or eightfeet in length and the red savages knelt Ulla and Lenna down, their bands stilltied behind them by the forepaws of their kaiila.

One of the red savages was now walking over to the kailiauk robe beneath whichlay Margaret.

The red youth now rose from the side of the red-haired girl, adjusting hisbreechclout. He then indicated that she should roll onto her stomach, which shedid. He then slapped her twice, commending her. Her hands clutched at the grass.

He then sauntered away.

I walked over to her. "It seems I have served my purpose," she whispered,angrily, in English.

"One of your purposes," I said, "for the time being." I spoke to her in English.

She rose to her hands and knees, and looked up at me. She put down her head,reddening. She looked up again, angrily, and then, again, put down her head,blushing. "Why did you make me yield?" she asked.

"You wanted to," I said. "And, besides, as a slave, you must yield."

She did not speak.

"Are you angry?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"I heard you cry out, and whimper with pleasure," I said.

"It is true," she said. "I did want to yield. How terrible I must be."

"Such feelings," I said, "such desires to yield, are not only permitted of theslave, but required of her."

"Required?" she said.

"Yes," I said. "Do not confuse yourself with a free woman. You are quitedifferent from her."

"And as a slave," she said, "I had to yield. I had no choice, did I?"

"No," I said. "The slave must yield, and fully."

"How can you respect me?" she asked.

"Assume the belly position, and kiss my feet, Slave," I said.

She did so.

"What now was your question?" I asked.

"How-how can you respect me?" she asked, half choking.

"I do not," I told her. "Do you know why?"

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I am a slave," she said.

"True," I said.

"How strong are the men of this world," she said, wonderingly. "How they own,and dominate us. How, before them, can we be anything but women?"

"Your question about respect was stupid," I said. "Perhaps you should belashed."

"Please do not lash me, Master," she said.

I turned to leave. "Master," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Tonight," she said, "I beg to be taken from the coffle for your pleasure."

"Tonight," I said, "I think I may be more in the mood for Lois or Inez, orperhaps Priscilla. We shall see. And tonight, in the coffle, you will be bound,hand and foot. Perhaps that will teach you to ask stupid questions."

"Yes, Master," she said.

I then went over to the kailiauk hide where one of the Dust Legs was standing.

Grunt had joined him there. Grunt seemed reluctant to lift the hide.

"Hou," I said to the Dust Leg.

"Hou," said he to me.

"Ieska!" called one of the Dust Legs, rising to his feet, where the men had beensitting. This was another of the names by which Grunt was known in the Barrens.

It literally is one who speaks well. Less literally, it is used as a generalexpression for an interpreter.

Grunt excused himself and went to see what the man wanted. He was the fellow whohad been looking at the hatchet. The fellow was holding up three fingers, andthen he pointed to the dark-haired girl kneeling by the kaiila.

In an instant she had been summoned, and she hurried to him, as she could, withher head down, following the sound of his voice. When she reached her master andGrunt her master put his hand under her chin and thrust up her head. She lookedabout, startled, wildly, now permitted to regard surroundings. She saw the otherkaiila, the men, Grunt, myself, the girls in the coffle. Then she was strippedand knelt naked, before Grunt. He had her rise and turn slowly, her back arched,her hands behind the back of her head, before him. Then he again knelt her.

"Tarl," called Grunt to me. I went to him, and he tossed me his whip. "See ifshe whips well," he said.

The girl looked up at me, frightened.

"On your hands and knees," I told her.

She assumed this posture.

Much can be told of the responsiveness of a girl by how she moves beneath thewhip.

I would give her three lashes. After all I was not whipping her, but testingher.

I would not strike her with my full strength, but, on the other hand, she mustknow clearly that she had been struck.

How else could the test prove significant?

She cried out, thrown to her belly by the first stroke. I then administered thesecond stroke. She cried out in misery and turned to her side, pulling up herlegs. I then struck her a third time and she cried out again, sobbing, andpulled up her legs even more.

I thought she moved well beneath the whip. She obviously felt it, keenly.

"On your hands and knees," said Grunt. He then, as she shuddered, felt her, sherecently impressed with the might of men over her, she freshly lashed.

"Good," said Grunt.

She became Grunt's for three hatchets. She was, after all, only a white femaleslave and they were fine hatchets.

"Ieska! Wopeton!" called the fellow by the kailiauk hide.

We left the dark-haired girl on the grass, where she had been lashed, and thenpurchased.

The Dust Leg requested that the kailiauk hide be thrown aside. Grunt, a shrewdfellow, appeared to demur, and, indeed, even invited the fellow to examine theother girls on the coffle. The fellow, however, scarcely cast a glance at them,but they shrank back, under even so cursory an examination, fearing to belong toa red master. He did look for a longer moment at the red-haired girl but Gruntsaid something to him, and he turned from her again to speculate on what mightlie concealed beneath the kailiauk hide. Grunt apparently did not wish torelease the red-haired girl in a common sale. He had, it seemed, anotherdisposition in mind for her. I remembered he had speculated that he would getfive hides of the yellow kailiauk for her. No, she had not been brought along,marched into the Barrens, as a mere beast of burden. He had something else inmind for her.

One or two of the other Dust Legs now came over to where lay the kailiauk hide,concealing Margaret, the stripped English girl. The first Dust Leg was nowshowing signs of impatience. He was no fool. It was clear to him that Grunt, ifhe truly, seriously, wished to hide a girl, would presumably cache her, boundand gagged, out of sight, perhaps in a slit trench a pasang or so away. As itwas, the kailiauk hide was presumably a device to arouse the interest of apossible buyer. The Dust Leg doubtless realized this. Further, he doubtlessrealized that his interest, in spite of the obviousness of this stratagem, waspiqued. I could not blame him, accordingly, for feeling some irritation orresentment. I hoped Grunt knew what be was doing. He had already, in his trickwith Ulla and Lenna, in my opinion, been treading on dangerous ground. Suddenlythe Dust Leg, Grunt speaking to him, broke out in laughter. It took me a momentor so to understand what was happening, but, in an Ehn, it became quite clear.

The Dust Leg, if interested, was to bid, sight unseen, on what lay beneath thekailiauk hide. The whole thing was, in effect, a joke and a gamble. The matternow put in a clearer light, the Dust Leg, and his fellows, were delighted. Hetried to walk about and peep beneath the hide and Grunt, with great apparentearnestness and seriousness, hurried about, tugging down the hide at the edges.

Red savages, on whole, are fond of jokes and gambles. Their jokes, to be sure,might sometimes seem a bit eccentric or rude to more civilized folk. A favoritejoke, for example, is to tell a young man that his kaiila offer to the parentsof his prospective woman has been refused, thus plunging him into despair, untilwith roars of laughter, he is informed that it has been accepted. This type ofthing, incidentally, does not count, culturally, as a violation of truthtelling, a practice which the red savages take with great seriousness. Gambling,too, is of interest to the savages. Common games are lots, dice and stoneguessing. Betting, too, may take place in connection with such things as thefall of arrows, and the appearance and movements of animals, particularly birds.

Kaiila races, perhaps needless to say, are very popular. An entire village islikely to turn out to watch such a race. What was going on, further, could notbe clearly understood unless it is understood that the Dust Legs knew andrespected, and liked, Grunt. Such a game they would not have played with astranger. Theoretically, one supposes, a high bid might be made on what layconcealed beneath the hide and then the hide, the bid accepted, might bewithdrawn to reveal a wench as ugly as a tharlarion, but the Dust Legs knew, inthe practical context, that Grunt would not do this to them. They understood, inthe context, that he would be sure to put something not only good, but verygood, beneath that hide. Similarly, since bids are almost always lower on anunseen commodity, he would be, in effect, making them a gift. The Dust Legrefused, with great drama, to go higher than two hides for what lay beneath thehide. Grunt, he made it clear, must now either accept or reject that offer. Itwas, of course, accepted, and Grunt, with some flair, threw off the hide.

Margaret, suddenly exposed, cried out with fear. She blinked against the lightand made herself, lying on her side, as small as possible. Curled naked on thegrass, revealed, terrified, owned, she was exquisite. The two friends of theDust Leg shouted out with pleasure and, striking him about the shoulders andback, congratulated him on his good fortune. Margaret cringed at their feet. TheDust Leg, more than pleased, tried to get Grunt to accept at least one extrahide for the girl, but this, of course, Grunt magnanimously refused to do. Abargain struck was, after all, a bargain to be adhered to. He was, after all,was he not, a merchant? Margaret was jerked to her knees and the Dust Leg tiedhis beaded collar on her throat. He then bound her small wrists tightly beforeher body with a long thong and, pulling her to her feet, led her away, by thefree end of the thong, followed by his friends, to his kaiila.

"They are very pleased," I said to Grunt.

"I think so," he said.

We watched the Dust Legs mounting up now, most of them, both men and women,preparing to take their leave. Ulla and Lenna were now on their feet, theirhands still tied behind their backs, their neck thongs tied to the high,decorative pommels of their masters' saddles. Their masters regarded them. Theythen slapped the girls' naked flanks with possessive pleasure, as though theymight have been kaiila. They then climbed to theft saddles, leaving the girlsafoot, naked, neck-thonged, near theft stirrups. The girls looked up at theirmasters with fear and then, as the kaiila moved, hurried along beside the loftyanimals, the grass to their thighs. I had little doubt but what they would soonbe taught their duties, both those outside the lodge and those within it. I thensaw Margaret, looking wildly over her shoulder, being drawn along, by the thongon her wrists, at the side of her own master's beast. She, too, would doubtlesssoon receive instruction on the modalities of pleasure and service to be exactedby a red master of a female slave, and one who was merely white.

We watched the Dust Legs moving away, across the grasses.

"It was a good trading," I said.

"I think so," said Grunt. "We were all, I think, well satisfied."

"Do you think the two fellows with Ulla and Lenna are sufficiently pleased?" Iasked. "You did, it seems, maneuver them to some extent."

"I do not think they minded being maneuvered," he said. "Did you not see howthey struck the girls on their flanks, so possessively, so pride fully, sogood-naturedly? They are more than enough pleased to have such girls on theirtethers, to lead them home, to add them in with their kaiila and other stock."

"You are right," I said.

"Take this one to the stream," he said, indicating the dark-haired girl we hadacquired for the three hatchets, she lying on the grass near us, "and see thatshe has a bath."

"I will," I said. "What are you going to do?"

"We will make camp here," he said.

"Here?" I asked.

"There is water nearby," he said, "and wood."

"You are going to stay for a time at the trading point?" I asked. This puzzledme. This was the last trading point in the territory of the Dust Legs. It didnot seem to me likely that more Dust Legs were to be expected, certainly not forsome time. I myself was anxious to move eastward.

"For tonight," he said.

"We could make five pasangs before dark," I said.

"We will camp here tonight," he said.

"Very well," I said.

He went over to the girl lying in the grass. "Womnaka, Amomona," he said.

"Womnaka, Wicincala."

"Ho, Itancanka. Ho, Wicayuhe," she said.

"She speaks Dust Leg," he said. "She then will also be conversant with Kaiila.

These are two closely related languages, or, better, two dialects of a singlelanguage. Fleer is also related to them, but more remotely."

"She responded to your commands earlier," I said. "She must know Gorean, too."

"Do you speak Gorean?" he asked. She might, after all, know only certaincommands, much as might a sleen.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"I shall attend to the camp," said Grunt, looking about. "See that she has abath at the stream."

"All right," I said.

"Do not hurry with her," he said. "There is no hurry in returning."

"All right," I said. Grunt was looking about, scanning the surroundinggrasslands. Then he went to the coffle, where Ginger was waiting. He would freecertain of the girls and set them about their duties. We would make camp, itseemed, early this day.

I looked down at the girl at my feet. She looked up at me. I kicked her. Shewinced. "On your hands and knees," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I indicated to her the direction of the stream.

"Yes, Master," she said.

She would crawl to it. She was a slave.

"You whipped me well," she smiled, kneeling in the shallow stream, pouring wateron her body.

"You whip well," I commended her.

"Thank you, Master," she said.

The sexually responsive woman whips well. This is probably a function of thehigh degree of her skin sensitivity and the depth and vulnerability of herfeelings, tier sensitivity and responsiveness make her peculiarly helpless underthe lash. She who writhes best under the lash, so say the Goreans, writhes bestin the furs.

"The water," I said, "has wrought quite a transformation in you." She was now,substantially, cleaned. Most of the dust and blood, the grime, the dirt andsweat, had been washed away. Her dark hair, wet now, seemed very dark, veryshiny. She knelt in the water, removing tangles and snarls from her hair.

"No longer, at least," she said, "Am I womnaka."

"What is that?" I asked.

"Master does not speak Dust Leg or Kaiila?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"It is something which exudes much odor," she laughed.

"What did Grunt, who is your master, the fellow in the broad-brimmed hat, callyou? I asked.

"Wicincala'," she said, "which means "Girl', and "Amomona', which means "Baby' or "Doll'."

"I see," I said. I myself prefer the application of such expressions not toslaves, but to pretentious free women, to remind them that they, in spite oftheir freedom, are only women. They are useful, by the way, in making a freewoman uneasy, their use suggesting to her that perhaps the male is consideringshortly enslaving her. In speaking to a slave I prefer expressions such as" Slave' or "Slave Girl', or the girl's name itself, she understanding clearly,of course, that it is only a slave name. "And what did you call him?" I asked.

"Wicayuhe', "Itancanka'," she said, "words which mean Master."

"I thought so," I said.

I sat on the bank, watching her work with her hair. She was now combing it out,with her fingers. She would not yet be entitled, of course, to use the commonbrush and comb slotted for the use of the coffle. The other girls, unless themasters intervened, would vote on whether or not she was to be granted its use.

This is a way of encouraging a new girl to congenial and to participateequitably in the work. One negative vote will keep the brush and comb from a newgirl. The suspension of brush-and-comb privileges is also used, upon occasion,by the first girls as a disciplinary measure, within the coffle. Otherdisciplinary measures practiced among girls themselves involve such things asbonds, the control of rations and switchings. Girls, thus, under the control offirst girls, reporting to the masters, commonly keep a good order amongthemselves. All, of course, including the first girls, are in all thingssubject, ultimately, to the total authority of the master.

"Ginger!" I called.

Ginger, in a moment, came running to the stream.

"Bring the comb and brush," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said. Her authority, as that of any slave, could be overruledby any free person.

In a few moments Ginger returned with the comb and brush. "Give her the comb," Isaid. I, myself, took the brush, which I placed beside me. Ginger waded into thestream and gave the comb to the new girl. "You do not yet have generalcomb-and-brush privileges," she informed her. "Unless, of course, the mastersorder it," she added.

"Yes, Mistress," said the new girl, bowing her head to her.

Ginger returned to the bank and, somewhat mollified, turned to regard the newgirl, who was now combing her hair with the comb of kailiauk horn.

"She is rather pretty," said Ginger.

"I think so," I said. She was slim, and beautifully shaped.

"She might be worth four hides," said Ginger.

"Perhaps," I said. Ginger then took her leave.

I regarded the girl. She was looking at me, slowly combing her hair.

"Thank you for permitting me the use of the comb and, perhaps later, the brush," she said.

"It is my pleasure," I informed her, truthfully.

I regarded her. She was quite beautiful, and her beauty was a thousand timesmore exciting than that of a free woman, for she was a slave.

"Master examines me with candor," she said, shyly.

"You are a slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said. One might, in the case of a free woman, in deference toher modesty or dignity, avert one's gaze from her beauty. This consideration, ofcourse, is seldom, if ever, accorded to a slave. One may examine her slowly andwith care, and with attention to detail, and, if one feels she deserves it, withopen and unconcealed admiration. It is not unusual for a Gorean male, who tendsto be uninhibited in such matters, to clap his hands, or strike his thigh, orshout with pleasure, upon seeing a bared slave. These responses, which might bethought embarrassing or inappropriate in the case of a free woman, may fittinglybe accorded, of course, to slaves, who are only lovely animals. Even in the caseof free women, the Gorean male, incidentally, disdains to feign disinterest infemale beauty. He, for better or for worse, has not been made a victim of theglandular suppression and life-shortening psychosexual reductionism inflicted,in varying degrees, on so many males in more pathological cultures. Hiscivilization has not been purchased at the price of his manhood. His culture hasnot been designed to deny nature, but, startlingly perhaps, to some minds, tofulfill it.

She continued to comb her hair. She turned her head to the side, slowly drawingthe comb through it. "Do I detect," she asked, "that Master may not find a slavefully displeasing?"

"No," I said. "I do not find you fully displeasing."

"A slave is pleased," she said.

I smiled.

"Do you think I might be worth four hides?" she asked.

"Whether you are or not might easily be determined," I said.

"Of course, Master," she laughed. "I am a slave."

"You now look quite different from what you did when you were purchased," I toldher.

"It is difficult to remain fresh and presentable," she said, "when run throughbrush at the side of a kaiila, a thong on one's throat."

I nodded.

"I trust," she said, "that I shall not be so served in this camp."

"You, and the others," I said, "will be treated precisely as we please, in allthings."

"Yes, Master," she said, quickly. She stopped combing her hair.

"Continue to groom yourself, Slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"What was your name among the Dust Legs?" I asked.

"Wasnapohdi," she said.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"Pimples," she said.

"You do not have any pimples," I said.

"Master may have noticed that my thighs are not marked," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"I am not one of those girls from the towns, who has been branded," she said.

"Oh, do not fear," she laughed, "that we are not well understood as slaves. Inthe camps, and among the tribes our red masters keep women such as I in ourcollars, to remove one of which without permission is death."

I nodded.

"And, too," she said, "What could a white woman in the Barrens be but a slave?"

"True," I said.

"We are thus, in our way, well marked," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"I was born Waniyanpi, in one of the Waniyanpi enclosures of the Kailiauk," shesaid, "the product of a forced mating, between parents unknown even tothemselves, parents selected and matched by the red masters, parents who, eventhough they were Sames, were forced to perform the Ugly Act, hooded and underwhips, on the day of Waniyanpi breeding."

"There is much here I do not understand," I said. "What are Waniyanpi? Who arethe Kailiauk?"

"Many of the tribes permit small agricultural communities to exist within theirdomains," she said. "The individuals in these communities are bound to the soiland owned collectively by the tribes within whose lands they are permitted tolive. They grow produce for their masters, such as wagmeza and wagmu, maize, orcorn, and such things as pumpkins and squash. They are also to furnish laborwhen required and may be drawn upon, at the whim of their masters, forindividual slaves. When one is taken from the enclosure one ceases to beWaniyanpi and becomes a common slave, an ordinary slave, one owned by anindividual master. Usually daughters are taken, for the red masters find thempleasing as slaves, but sometimes, too, young men are taken. The word" Waniyanpi' itself means literally "tame cattle'. It is an expression applied tothe collectively owned slaves in these tiny agricultural communities. TheKailiauk is. a tribe federated with the Kaiila. They speak closely relateddialects."

"Do the parents come from within the same community?" I asked.

"No," she said. "For the day of breeding the men, hooded and in coffle, aremarched between the small communities. On the day of breeding they are led tothe selected women, already hooded, tied and awaiting them. The breeding takesplace in the wagmeza fields, under the eyes of the masters."

"You spoke of an Ugly Act?" I said. I did not like the sound of that. Itreminded me of a distant and sick world, the world of tittering, ofembarrassment and dirty jokes. How much more honest are the whips and collars ofGor?

"The Sames," she said, "disapprove of all sexual relations between human beings,and particularly between those of different sexes, as being demeaning anddangerous."

"I can see where some might regard sexual relations between partners of oppositesexes as being demeaning for the woman," I said, "for in such relations she isoften handled, owned and put in her place, but, on the other hand, if shebelongs in her place, and it is her natural destiny to be owned and handled, itis not clear, ultimately, how this sort of thing can be demeaning for her.

Rather, it seems it would be fully appropriate. Indeed, treating her in anyother way, ultimately, would seem to be far more demeaning. But how can suchrelations be regarded as dangerous?"

"They are not regarded as being dangerous to health," she said, "but as beingdangerous to the Teaching."

"What is the Teaching?" I asked.

"That men and women are the same," she said. "That is the central tenet of theWaniyanpi."

"Do they believe it?" I asked.

"They pretend to," she said. "I do not know if they really believe it or not."

"They believe men and women are the same," I marveled. "Except," she smiled,"that women are regarded as somewhat superior."

"Their beliefs then," I said, "seem not only to be obviously false but actuallyinconsistent."

"Before the Teaching one must surrender one's reason," she said. "To scrutinizeit is a crime. To question it is blasphemy."

"It lies, I suppose," I said, "at the roots of Waniyanpi society."

"Yes," she said. "Without it Waniyanpi society would collapse."

"So?" I said.

"They do not take the disintegration of their society as lightly as you do," shesmiled. "Too, you must understand the utility of such a view. It constitutes anexcellent philosophy for slaves."

"I am not even sure of that," I said.

"It, at least," she said, "gives men an excuse not to be men."

"That seems true," I granted her.

"It helps them to remain Waniyanpi," she said. "They are thus less likely toattract the attention, or excite the anger, of their red masters."

"I understand," I said. "I think I also understand why, in such a society, thewomen are regarded as somewhat superior, as you put it."

"It is only that they are implicitly regarded as superior," be said.

"Explicitly, of course, all subscribe to the thesis of sameness."

"But why are the women regarded, implicitly, as superior?" I asked.

"Because of the contempt felt for the men," she said, "who will not assert theirnatural rights. Also, if men refuse the mastery, someone must assume it."

"Yes," I said.

"There are always masters," she said, "whether one pretends it is not so, ornot."

"In the hands of women," I said, "the mastery becomes an empty mockery."

"Mockery has no choice but to assert itself," she said, "when reality isforesworn"

I was silent "The Waniyanpi communities are sources of great amusement to the red masters," she said.

I thought of what is sometimes spoken of by the red savages as the Memory.

"I understand," I said.

The red savages doubtless found their vengeance a sweet and fitting one. Howalmost incomprehensibly cruel it was, how horrifying, how brilliant andinsidious.

"The Teachings of the Waniyanpi," I said, "were doubtless originally imposed onthem by their red masters."

"Perhaps," she said. "I do not know. They may have been invented by theWaniyanpi themselves, to excuse to themselves their cowardice, their weaknessand impotence."

"Perhaps," I admitted.

"If one is not strong it is natural to make a virtue of weakness."

"I suppose so," I said. I then speculated that I had perhaps judged the redsavages too harshly. The Waniyanpi, it then seemed likely, may have betrayedthemselves, and their children. In time, of course, such teachings, absurdthough they might be, would come to be taken for granted. In time they wouldcome to be sanctioned by tradition, one of humanity's most prized substitutesfor thought.

"You, yourself," I said, "Do not seem much infected by the lunacy of theWaniyanpi."

"No," she said. "I am not. I have had red masters. From them I have learned newtruths. Too, I was taken from the community at an early age."

"How old were you?" I asked.

"I was taken from the enclosure when I was eight years old," she said, "takenhome by a Kaiila warrior as a pretty little white slave for his ten-year-oldson. I learned early to please and placate men."

"What happened?" I asked.

"There is little more to tell," she said. "For seven years I was the slave of myyoung master. He was kind to me, and protected me, muchly, from the otherchildren. Although I was only his slave, I think he liked me. He did not put mein a leg stretcher until I was fifteen." She was then silent. "I have combed myhair," she said.

"Come here," I said, "and, kneel here." She rose from the water, it drippingfrom her body, and came and knelt on the grass, on the bank of the small stream,where I had indicated. I took the comb from her and laid it to the side. I thentook the brush and, kneeling behind her, began to brush out her hair. It is notunusual for Gorean masters to comb and groom slaves, or ornament thempersonally, much as they might any animal that they owned.

"We were gathering berries," she said. "Then I saw him, suddenly, almostangrily, cutting a stick, and notching it with his knife. Too, he had thongs. Iwas afraid, for I had seen other white slaves put in such devices. He turned toface me. His voice seemed loud, and full, and husky. "Take off your dress," besaid, "and lie down, and throw your legs widely apart." I began to cry, but Iobeyed him, and quickly, for I was his slave. I felt my ankles lashed tightly tothe stick, the stick behind them. I had not realized that he had grown sostrong. Then he rose to his feet and looked down at me. I was helpless. Helaughed with pleasure, a man's laugh, who sees a woman tied before him. I wascrying. He crouched down beside me. Then, suddenly, scarcely before I understoodwhat I was doing, I opened my arms to him, overcome suddenly by the stirrings ofmy womanhood. He embraced me. I began to sob again, but this time with joy. Thefirst time it was finished almost before we realized it. But he did not leaveme. For hours we remained among the tiny fruit, talking and kissing, andcaressing. Later, near dusk, he freed me, that I might gather berries for him,and feed them to him. Later I lay on my belly before him and kissed his feet.

That night we returned to the village. That others in the village mightunderstand what had happened, he did not permit me to ride behind him, on hiskaiila. He tied my bands behind my back and marched me at his stirrup, a thongon my neck tied to the pommel of his saddle. Two children had left the camp thatmorning. What returned to it that night were a master and his claimed whiteslave. I was very proud. I was very happy."

"What then happened? I asked. I stopped brushing her hair.

"I loved my master," she said, "and I think that he, too, cared for me."

"Yes?" I said.

"That it seemed he had grown fond of me brought ridicule on him from hiscomrades," she said. "To this sort of thing, as you might not know, red savages,in their tribal groups, are extremely sensitive. To allay these charges he, inhis anger, would berate me publicly, and even beat me in the presence of others.

At last, to put an end to the matter, and perhaps fearing these charges might betrue, be sold me to an older man, one from another village. After that I hadmany masters, and now I have yet another."

I then began again to brush her hair. "Was it the lad who gave you the namePimples?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "I was given the name at puberty and, for some reason, it wasnever changed. Red masters commonly give such names to their white slaves,trivial names that seem fitting for slaves. My first year as the slave of myyoung master I was not even given a name. I was referred to only as Wicincala,or "Girl. I was later called "Wihinpaspa', which means lodge-pin or tent-pin,probably because I was little and thin. Then later, as I have mentioned, I wascalled "Pimples', "Wasnapohdi', which name, partly because of habit, and partlybecause it amused my masters, was kept on me."

"You are neither little nor thin," I said, "and, as I have earlier remarked, youdo not have pimples."

"Perhaps I might bring four hides," she laughed.

"It is not impossible," I said. "Do you think your first master would recognizeyou now?" I asked.

"I do not know," she said. "I would suppose so."

"Do you remember him?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "It is difficult to forget the first man who tied you."

"Do you love him? I asked. I laid the brush aside.

"I do not know," she said. "It was long ago. He sold me."

"Oh," she said, her hands now thonged behind her back. She tensed.

"Did your red masters teach you well what it is to be a slave?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I tightened the knots on her wrists.

"Do you think your lot will be easier with us?" I asked.

"I do not know, Master," she winced.

"It will not be," I assured her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I bent down and kissed her on the side, on one of the long welts raised by thewhip stroke, one of the blows in virtue of which she was assessed.

"You struck me with great force," she said.

"No, I did not," I said.

She shuddered. "You are then very strong," she whispered.

I turned her about, and put her on her back, before me. I knelt beside her andsniffed her belly. "Again," I said, "you are womnaka."

"I am only a slave," she said. "Does it please you, or displease you, that I amunable to resist you?"

"It does not displease me," I said. I then touched her.

"Oh," she cried, eyes closed, squirming helplessly, rearing half upward,trussed, then falling back. She looked at me, wildly.

"You are indeed a slave," I told her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Do you beg to be had?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said. "Yes, Master!"

"First," I said, "You will earn your keep. You will be put to work."

"Yes, Master," she said.

I then pulled her to her knees and lay then on one elbow, indolently, watchingher. She then, on her knees, her hands bound behind her, with her hair, hermouth and body, need fully and desperately, began to please me. In a short whileI took her and threw her beneath me.

Aiii!" she sobbed. "I yield me your slave, my Master!" She was superb. Iwondered if the lad who had been her former master, and who now must be a man,and had sold her, had any idea as to the wonder, the surrendered, curvaceous,obedient, orgasmic triumph, which his little Lodge-Pin or Pimples, now aravishing, helpless beauty, had become. Had he any notion of this it wasdifficult to imagine that he would be able to rest until he had once againfastened his beaded collar on her throat. Clearly she was now the sort of womanfor whom men might kill.

"Am I worth four hides, Master?" she asked, gasping.

"Five," I assured her.

She laughed, and kissed me happily.

"This is Wagmezahu, Corn Stalks," said Grunt. "He is Fleer."

"Hou," said Corn Stalks.

"Hou," said I to him.

"Is the new slave satisfactory?" asked Grunt.

"Quite," I said.

"Good," he said.

I sat back, cross-legged, away from the fire. I now understood why Grunt hadbeen scanning the plains. I now understood why he had wished to remain at thetrading point. He had, doubtless, been waiting for this Fleer. This was also,doubtless, the reason he had encouraged me to take my time with the new girl,which I had, that they not be disturbed. Although the Fleer speak a languageclearly akin to Kaiila and Dust Leg there bad often been strife among them.

Thusly the Fleer had waited before coming to the camp. If the Dust Legs knew ofhis presence in their country they had not chosen to do anything about it,perhaps in deference to Grunt.

Grunt and the Fleer spoke largely in sign, this being easier for them than theattempt to communicate verbally.

I sat back from the fire, watching them closely. It was now late at night. Grunthad shortened the coffle by two collars and chain lengths. I had put the newgirl in Margaret's place, after Priscilla and before the Hobarts. This was theposition of "Last Girl," which, fittingly, not counting the Hobarts, she wouldoccupy, being the newest girl on the coffle. Coffle arrangements, incidentally,are seldom arbitrary. One common principle of arrangements is in order ofheight, with the tallest girls coming first; this makes a lovely coffle.

Sometimes, too, coffles are arranged in order of beauty or preference, the mostbeautiful or the most preferred girls coming first. Coloring and body type canalso be important. It is for such reasons, perhaps, that the coffle is sometimesspoken of as the slaver's necklace. Sales strategies, too, can enter into theformation of a coffle, as, for example, when a girl is put between two plainergirls to accentuate her beauty, or a superb girl is saved for last, and manyother considerations, as well, can enter into the formation of a coffle. Whenone sees a chain of beauties, fastened together, say, by the neck, or the leftwrist or left ankle, it is well to remember that their locations on that sturdy,metallic bond, keeping them precisely where the master wishes, are seldom likelyto be merely fortuitous. After I had carried the new girl to the chain and puther on the grass, locking the collar on her, I went to the red-haired girl and,as I had earlier promised her, bound her hand and foot. She had asked a stupidquestion, one pertaining to respect. She would spend the night tied.

"Is the new girl pleasing?" she had asked me, reproachfully.

"Yes," I said.

"More pleasing than I?" she asked, lying at my feet, her hands tied behind her,her ankles crossed and bound, her neck in the coffle collar.

"Yes," I said. "She is an experienced slave. You are only a new slave. You havemuch to learn."

"Yes, Master," she said.

I then, for good measure, gagged her. She must learn that she was a slave.

Corn Stalks, after a time, took his leave. Before he left Grunt gave him somehard candy and a fine steel knife.

"You seem moody," I said to Grunt. He had returned to the fire, and sat beforeit, not speaking.

"It is nothing," he said.

"I should like to learn some Dust Leg," I said.

"I will teach you some, as we ride," he said.

"If I learn some Dust Leg, I should be able, to some extent, to communicate withKaiila," I said.

"Very easily," said Grunt, "for they are much the same, and, too, you would beable to make yourself understood to the Kailiauk, and, to some extent, to theFleer."

"I have heard little of the Kailiauk," I said.

"They are not well known west of the perimeter," he said. "Their country lies tothe south and east of that of the Kaiila."

"Mostly," I said, "you spoke to Corn Stalks in sign."

"Yes," he said. "It is easier for us." He looked at me. "To learn sign," hesaid, "would probably be more useful to you, all things considered, thanlearning a smattering of Dust Leg."

"Teach me sign," I asked.

"To be sure," he said, "it would be wise for you to learn some Dust Leg orKaiila. There is no substitute for being able to converse with these people intheir own language. Sign, as far as I know, is common to all the tribes of theBarrens."

"Why are they called Dust Legs?" I asked.

"I do not know," said Grunt, "but I think it is because they were the last ofthe major tribes to master the kaiila. Afoot, they were much at the mercy of theothers. Their heritage as traders and diplomats may stem from that period."

"It is an interesting hypothesis," I said.

"I can teach you hundreds of signs in a short time," said Grunt. "It is a verylimited language, hut in most situations it is quite adequate, and, because manyof the signs seem so appropriate and natural, it can be easily learned. In fouror five days you can learn most of what you would need of sign."

"I would like to learn something of Dust Leg and Kaiila, and also sign," I said.

"I will be pleased to help you," said Grunt.

"Grunt?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"After I came to join you," I said, "Corn Stalks didn't stay long."

"He does not know you," said Grunt.

I nodded. Goreans, in general, not merely red savages, tend to be wary ofstrangers, in particular those who speak other languages or come from otherterritories or cities. There is only one word in Gorean, incidentally, forstranger and enemy. To be sure, the specific meaning intended is usually clearin the context. Goreans are not unaware that there may exist such things asfamiliar enemies and friendly strangers.

"He did not do trading, as far as I know," I said.

"No," said Grunt. "We talked. He is a friend."

"What is the sign for a red savage?" I asked.

Grunt rubbed the back of his left hand from the wrist to the knuckle with hisright index finger. "The general sign for a man is this," he said. He held hisright hand in front of his chest, the index finger pointing up, and raised it infront of his face. He then repeated the sign for the red savage. "I am not clearon the specific rationale for the sign for the savage," he said. "You will note,however, that the same finger, the index finger, is used in the sign, as in thesign for man. The origins of some of these signs are obscure. Some think thesign for the red savage has a relation to the spreading of war paint. Othersthink that it means a man who goes straight or a man who is close to the earth,to nature. Doubtless there are other explanations, as well. This is the sign forfriend." He then put his first two fingers together and raised them upward,beside his face. "It probably means two men growing up together."

"Interesting," I said. "What does this mean?" I put the middle fingers of myright hand on my right thumb, extending the index and little finger. Thissuggests a pointed snout and ears.

"You have seen Dust Legs make that sign," he said. "It means a wild sleen. It isalso used for the Sleen tribe. Do you know what this means?" He then spread theindex finger and the second finger of his right hand and drew them from the leftto the right, in front of his body.

"No," I said.

"That is the sign for a domestic sleen," he said. "You see? It is like thespread poles of a travois, which might be drawn by such an animal."

"Yes!" I said.

"What is this?" he asked, drawing his right index finger across his forehead,from left to right.

"A white man?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "Good."

"It is like the line of the brim of a hat, across the forehead," I said.

"Good," he said, "And this?" With the fingers of both hands slightly curved, hemade downward motions from the top of his head to the shoulders. It was asthough he were combing hair.

"A woman?" I asked.

"Good," he said. "Good. And this?"

"A white woman?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. He had traced a line with his right index across his forehead,from left to right, and had then opened his hand and moved it downward, towardhis shoulder, in the combing motion. "What do you think this means?" he asked.

He then made the combing motions with his hand, then lowered his head and lookedat his left wrist, which he grasped firmly in his right hand, the left wrist,the weaker wrist, helpless in the grip of the stronger.

"I am not sure," I said.

"The second sign indicates bondage," he said.

"A female slave?" I asked.

"Yes," said Grunt, "but, more generally, it is another sign which may stand forany white woman, and is often used in this way."

"The same sign then," I said, "that sign, stands for both white woman and femaleslave? "Yes," he said. "It is the most common way of referring to a white woman. Yousee, in the Barrens, all white women are regarded as being female slaves. Ourfriends of the plains divide white women into those who have already, properly,been imbonded, and those who, improperly, have not yet been imbonded."

I considered the nature of women, and their desirability. "That distinctionmakes sense to me," I said. "But are there no women of the red savagesthemselves who are slaves?"

"Of course, there are," said Grunt. "They are fond of carrying off women of theenemy to make their own slaves. Surely you can imagine how pleasant it is forthese fellows to be served, and as a slave, by one of the enemy's women."

"Of course," I said.

"Such a woman may be designated as follows," he said, "by use of the sign woman,followed by the sign for the red savages, followed by a bondage sign."

"I see," I said. He had illustrated his words with the sign.

"If the context is clear," he said, "the signs simply for a female slave may beused."

"I understand," I said.

"Here is another way of designating a white woman or a female slave," he said.

He then made the sign for woman, followed by a downward striking motion, asthough holding a switch. "Sometimes, too," he said, "when the context is clear,this sign alone may be used." He then spread the first and second fingers of hisright hand arid laid them over the index finger of his left hand. "You see?" heasked. "It is ankles bound on a leg stretcher."

"I see," I said.

"The meanings in these signs are clear," he said, "the weaker who is held by thestronger, she who is subject to the whip, and she whose ankles may be spread ather master's pleasure."

"Yes," I said.

"What is this?" asked Grunt. He held his left hand with the palm in, before hischest, and placed the index and second finger of his right hand astride the edgeof his left hand.

"A rider?" I asked.

"Kaiila," he said. Then, holding his hands as he had, he rotated his hands intiny circles, as though the kaiila were in motion. "That is to ride," he said.

"I see," I said.

"What is this?" he asked. He placed his left fist in front of his mouth andsliced between it and his face with the edge of his opened right hand.

"I do not know," I said.

"Knife," be said. "See? One holds the meat in one's hand and clenches it betweenthe teeth, too. Then one cuts a bite from the meat, to eat it, thus the sign forknife."

"Good," I said. "And what does this mean?" I drew an imaginary line across mythroat with my right index finger. I had seen Corn Stalks make this sign in histalk with Grunt.

Grunt's eyes clouded. "It is the sign for the Kaiila," he said, "the CutthroatTribe."

"Oh," I said.

"You may have seen this sign," said Grunt. "It is an interesting one." He thenheld his fists in front of his chest, his thumbs almost touching, and thenspread his fingers out, horizontally.

"I have no idea what it means," I said.

"Does it remind you of nothing?" be asked. He repeated the sign.

Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck rose. "It is like men breaking out ofcolumns," I said, "fanning out, to take up positions for battle."

"Yes," said Grunt. "It is the sign for soldiers." He then added to it the signfor riding, that of the kaiila in motion.

"Kaiila soldiers," I said. "Cavalry."

"Yes," said Grunt, soberly. He then held both fists close to his chest, with thebacks of his hands down and the index fingers curved. He then made a forward,circular motion.

"Wheels?" I said. "Wagons."

"Yes," said Grunt.

These last signs had been used by Corn Stalks. Grunt knew that I had seen them.

"I do not mean to pry," I said.

"It is all right," said Grunt.

"We need not continue," I said.

"It is all right," said Grunt.

I held my hands near the ground, with my fingers curved upward and slightlyapart. I then swung my bands out in a small, upward curve.

"Grass," said Grunt.

I held my right hand, palm down, even with my shoulder, and lowered it, until itwas about eighteen inches from the ground.

"Height," said Grunt. "High. High grass. Summer."

The Summer solstice had taken place a few days ago.

I folded my arms, the right arm resting on top of the left. I then raised bothhands until my fingers pointed skyward.

"The spreading of light," said Grunt. "Day. Light."

I repeated the gesture twice more.

"Three days," said Grunt. "Three days ago, we may suppose."

I raised my hands in front of my body, my fingers slightly curved. I then sweptmy hands together in a looping curve.

"Many," said Grunt. "Much. Plenty."

I rubbed the back of my left hand from the wrist to the knuckle with my rightindex finger.

"Red savages," smiled Grunt. "Fleer," he then said. "Kaiila, Sleen, YellowKnives, Kailiauk."

I had smote my hands slowly together three times. It was like the beating ofwings. It now stood, I saw, for the Fleer tribe. The fleer is a large, yellow,long-billed, gregarious, voracious bird of the Barrens. It is sometimes alsocalled the Corn Bird or the Maize Bird. I had then drawn my finger across mythroat. That stood for the Kaiila, the Cutthroat tribes. The sign for the Sleentribe had been the same as that for the sleen, the resting of the middle fingersof the right hand on the right thumb, extending the index and little finger,this suggesting the animal's pointed snout and ears. The sign for the YellowKnives had been the sign for knife, followed by the sign for fleer. I laterlearned the sign for knife alone would suffice for this tribe. In the compoundsign fleer presumably occurs as a modifier in virtue of the bird's coloration.

Adjectives in sign commonly, though not always, follow the noun, so to speak.

This arrangement is doubtless to be expected, for it reflects a commongrammatical feature of the spoken languages of the red savages. The word" mazasapa', for example, literally means "black metal'. "Maza' is the word for" metal' and "sapa' is the word for "black'. We would translate the expression,of course, as "iron'. The sign for Kailiauk, as I had expected, was to hold upthree fingers, suggesting the trident of horns adorning the shaggy head of thislarge, short-tempered, small-eyed, lumbering ruminant.

"You have an excellent memory," said Grunt. I had been, of course, as best Icould, reconstructing portions of the conversation which I had earlier seen takeplace between Corn Stalks and Grunt.

I held my hands in front of my body, with the palms facing one another, with theleft hand a bit ahead of the right. I quickly brushed the right palm pass, theloft palm.

"Fast," said Grunt. "Quick. Hurry."

I held my left hand before my body, palm out, with my index and second fingersspread, forming a "V." I held my right band at my fight shoulder, the indexfinger pointing up. I then, quickly, brought my right index finger down,striking into the space between the index finger and second finger of my lefthand.

"Kill," said Grunt, soberly. "Hit. Strike."

I followed this with the sign for many, and then the signs for white man andwhite woman, and for soldiers, and kaiila soldiers, or cavalry.

"Yes," said Grunt "What is this sign?" I asked. I cupped my right hand close to the ground, myfingers partly closed. I then raised it a few inches from the ground, with ashort, wavy motion.

"It is the sign for fire," said Grunt. "Flames."

"It preceded this sign," I said. I then held my fists close to my chest, withthe backs of my own hands down, my index fingers curved. I then made theforward, circular motion, indicative of turning wheels. "This latter sign, as Irecall," I said, "Signifies wagons."

"It does," said Grunt. "Yes."

I was then silent. I did not feel much like speaking. I listened to the crackleof the fire.

"A wagon, or wagons, of course," said Grunt. "The specific meaning depends onthe context. It is the same with my signs."

"I understand," I said.

"Three days ago, or some three days ago," said Grunt, "a party of red savages,consisting of Kaiila, Yellow Knives, Sleen, Fleer and Kailiauk fell suddenlyupon a wagon train and a column of soldiers, both infantry and cavalry. Wagonswere burned. There was a massacre."

"I think I know the parties," I said. "The first left Kailiauk sometime before Ireached it. They were settlers. The second must have been the mercenaries ofAlfred, a captain, from Port Olni. He left Kailiauk shortly before we did."

Alfred, not stopping to trade, and moving swiftly, not slowed by a coffle ofslaves, had, it seemed, made contact with the settlers. Doubtless they wouldhave welcomed his presence. I wondered as to the fate of the settlers andsoldiers, and if any survived. Alfred had seemed to me as though he might be agood commander. He would not have been familiar, however, I speculated, with thewarfare of the Barrens. He had perhaps rated his red foes too lightly. He hadperhaps discounted their possible numbers or skills.

I thought of the squarish wagons, which had been with the soldiers, doubtlessconcealing the beasts of Sardak and Kog. There had been seventeen such wagons.

If these beasts had been destroyed I might, perhaps, consider leaving theBarrens. Zarendargar, then, would be safe, at least until another such forcemight be sent against him. Perhaps Priest-Kings, through their agents, mightmonitor towns such as Fort Haskins and Kailiauk.

I thought, too, briefly, of the red-savage youth, Urt, the red slave, supposedlya Dust Leg, who had been with the soldiers. If the red savages had found him inhis chains, fastened to a white man's wagon, they might have chosen, withamusement, to leave him there, to die. I thought, too, of the lofty, veiled LadyMira of Venna. No doubt now, she no longer wore her veils. I did not think thered savages would have killed her. There are better things to do with suchwomen. Doubtless she would have been stripped, a thong perhaps on her neck, andassessed as casually as a tethered kaiila. If her captors found her of interest,perhaps they would give her a chance, albeit perhaps only a slim one, to striveto save her life, by absolute and total submission, and pleasingness, as aslave.

I did not fail to note, incidentally, that several, often mutually hostiletribes, had cooperated in the attack, with its attendant destruction andkilling. The Memory, as it is called, and their hatred for the white man, hadtaken priority, as it commonly did, over their bloody and almost continuousintertribal differences. The red savages, I speculated, if they wished, withtheir numbers, and their unity, conjoined with an approximate technologicalparity in weapons, should be able to hold the Barrens indefinitely against whiteintrusion.

"It is a horrifying thing," said Grunt, almost numbly.

"Yes," I said. "What does this mean?" I asked. I placed my right hand against myheart, with the thumb and fingers pointing down and slightly cupped.

"Heart," said Grunt.

I then lowered my hand toward the ground. I had seen Corn Stalks do this, afterhis account of the battle, if battle it had been.

"The heart is on the ground," said Grunt "My heart is on the ground. I am sad."

I nodded.

"My heart, too," said Grunt, "is on the ground. I, too, am sad."

I nodded. "Do you think there were survivors?" I asked.

"In actions of this sort," said Grunt, "our friends of the plains are seldominclined to leave survivors, but perhaps they did, perhaps, say, some children,to be herded to Waniyanpi camps, to be raised with Waniyanpi values, suitablefor slaves, or, say, perhaps, some females whose exposed curvatures at theirfeet they might have found acceptable. Who knows? They are the victors. It woulddepend on their whim."

"What of a red slave of white men? I asked.

"Male or female?" asked Grunt.

"Male," I said.

"I do not think I would give much for his chances," said Grunt.

"I thought not," I said.

"We should perhaps turn back," mused Grunt I did not speak.

"It will be dangerous to move eastward now," he said. "The blood of the youngmen will be high. The killing lust may yet be with them."

"They have done, surely," I said, "what they purposed. They have enforced theirlaws, against both the innocent and the guilty. They will now be returning totheir tribal areas."

"Smaller parties can be more dangerous than larger parties, at such a time," said Grunt "The larger party has done its work and is returning to its home,presumably under the command of a blotanhunka, a war-party leader, usually afellow of mature and experienced judgment. He exerts control; he commandsrestraint. The smaller party may consist of young men, insufficientlydisciplined, urging one another on to yet another hazard or feat, fellows whoare unwilling for the fun to be over, fellows who are eager to try for yet onemore killing, fellows who wish to obtain yet one more trophy."

"Such, you fear, might linger in the area?" I asked.

"Sometimes they are even left behind," said Grunt, "to track survivors who mighthave hidden in the grass."

"But we were not of the attacked parties," I said.

"One might hope, of course," said Grunt, "that they would be sensitive to suchdistinctions."

"We have not broken the laws," I said.

"We are white," said Grunt.

"I must move eastward," I said. It was important for me to determine the fate ofthe Kurii who had been with the mercenaries.

"Grunt," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"It is my understanding, gathered along the perimeter, that you are unusualamong traders, that you, of all of them, have penetrated most far into theBarrens, and know them best of white men."

"Perhaps," said Grunt. "It is hard to tell about such things."

"It was for this reason that I sought you out," I said.

He regarded me, not speaking.

"I have something among my stores, which I would show you," I said. "I suspectthat it is something which you have seen, or that you have seen similar thingsand are familiar with their origins."

"I shall be pleased to look at it," he said.

I returned to the fire in a few moments, and, on the dirt, in the light of theflames, spread the hide which Samos and I had obtained in the ruined tarncomplex some four pasangs from the northeast delta gate of Port Kar.

"It is a story hide," said Grunt.

"Can you read it?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"But you are not reading it," I said. I noted that he did not, with his eye orfinger, trace the spiraling account painted on that almost-white, softly tannedsurface.

"I have read it," he said. "Where did you get it?"

"Near Port Kar," I said.

"Interesting," be said.

"Why?" I asked.

"It is so far away," he said. "It is in the delta of the Vosk."

"This hide, I gather," I said, "has passed through your hands."

"Last fall," he said, "I obtained it from Dust Legs. They, in turn, had it fromKaiila."

"Do you know from what band of Kaiila?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"To whom did you sell the hide?" I asked.

"To Ram Seibar, in Kailiauk," he said.

"It all fits!" I said.

"You are not a trader," said Grunt. "What is your true business in the Barrens?"

I pointed to the painting of the two feathers near the beginning of thenarrative. "The painter's name," I said, "seems to have been Two Feathers." Irecalled that Kog had surmised this, in his interpretation of the hide.

Grunt shrugged. "That is not necessarily the case," he said, "at all. The twofeathers may be a talisman, or a luck sign. They may indicate a place. Theycould even indicate that the hide's painter has two coups, each coup beingmarked by one feather."

"I see," I said. This was indeed unwelcome news. Suddenly my task, and theBarrens, seemed far more formidable.

"It is easier to interpret sign, which can occasionally be difficult, than tointerpret a story hide. The conventions on the hide, and its meanings, are oftenmore idiosyncratic, more personal."

"Do you often deal in story hides?" I asked.

"No," said Grunt. "To encounter one among trade goods is quite uncommon."

"Ram Seibar paid well for this, did he not?" I asked.

"He paid a double tarn, of gold," said Grunt.

"He seemed anxious to obtain it?" I asked.

"He did not even bargain," said Grunt. "Yes."

I nodded. For such a coin one might easily buy five girls.

"What is your business in the Barrens?" asked Grunt.

"Do you see this beast?" I asked. I pointed to the image on the representationof a shield, that painted at the conclusion of the hide's account. It was theimage of a Kur, the left ear half torn away.

"Yes?" Grunt.

"I seek it," I said.

He regarded me.

"No," I said. "I am not mad."

"That is a beast of a medicine vision," said Grunt. "It is not a real beast."

"It is real," I said. "I do not know, beyond that, whether or not it occurred ina medicine vision."

"I have never seen such a beast," said Grunt.

"They are not indigenous to the Barrens," I said.

"You think it is now in the Barrens," said Grunt.

"I am sure of it," I said. "And I think, too, that there may be several others,as well." I did not know what had been the fate of the Kurii who had been withthe mercenary captain, Alfred, of Port Olni. It was possible, of course, thatthey had been destroyed in the attack on his column and the wagon train.

"Are you a hunter?" asked Grunt.

"In my way," I said.

"The Barrens are large," said Grunt.

"Do you think the hide is Kaiila?" I asked.

"I obtained it from Dust Legs, who obtained it from Kaiila," he said. "Whetheror not it is originally Kaiila, I do not know."

"I must venture to the country of the Kaiila," I said. "To do so, you will haveto pass through Fleer country, and the lands of Sleen and Yellow Knives," hesaid.

"As far as I know, I have not broken their laws," I said.

"You are white," said Grunt. "You may be attacked at their pleasure, whether ornot you have broken their laws."

"I understand," I said.

"You are leaving in the morning?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"You understand the dangers?" he asked.

"I think so," I said.

"I will accompany you," he said.

"You need not do so," I said.

"It is already summer," said Grunt "I did not come this far to turn back."

"You, too, would go eastward, then?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Is it your intention to go to the land of the Kaiila?" I asked.

"Yes," said he. "I have business there. I was there last summer."

"Have you a bargain to keep?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "and it is important that I keep it. It is important that Imaintain my integrity with these people, that I speak, as it is said, with astraight tongue."

"When are you to be there?" I asked.

"In Kantasawi," he said, "the moon when the plums are red." This was the moonfollowing the next moon, which is known variously as Takiyuhawi, the moon inwhich the tabuk rut, or Canpasapawi, the moon when the chokecherries are ripe.

"Will this give you time to return to Kailiauk?" I asked. Otherwise he wouldhave to winter in the Barrens. The red savages themselves sometimes found itdifficult to survive the long and severe winters, particularly if the huntingwas poor.

"Two moons will be sufficient to return to Kailiauk," said Grunt, "If one doesnot stop for trading." The two moons he had in mind, as I later learned, wereCanwapegiwi, the moon in which the leaves become brown, and the moon knownvariously as Wayuksapiwi, the Corn-Harvest Moon, or Canwapekasnawi, the moonwhen the wind shakes off the leaves. The autumnal equinox occurs in Canwapegiwi.

"What is important about Kantasawi?" I asked.

"It is the moon during which the Bento herd enters the country of the Kaiila. Itis a time of the gathering of the Kaiila, of great hunts and dances."

"I would welcome your company," I said. I did not question him further on thenature of his business with the Kaiila.

"It is then decided," said Grunt. "We shall leave, and together in the morning."

"Good," I said.

The girls, in their neck shackles, of course, did not know of our decision, norof what might be involved in it. This was appropriate, for they were merelyslaves.

"On the way to the country of the Kaiila, I would like to examine the field ofthe killings, the massacres," I said.

Grunt looked at me, puzzled.

"I have determinations to make there," I said.

"It is not far from here," he said.

"I thought not," I said.

"It will not be pleasant," he said.

I nodded. Yet I must determine if Kurii were among the fallen, and, if possible,their number.

"Tonight," said Grunt, getting up, "you may use Priscilla, if you wish."

"No," I said, "not tonight."