"Kathleen O' Neal & Michael W. Gear - People 3 - People Of The Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (O'Neal Kathleen)

The next morning Sage Ghost had returned the Mouse fetish to Old
Falcon. He'd put together his pack and hugged his beloved Bright Moon,
telling her that he was going to fetch her a new daughter, one given to
him by Spirit Power.

"And I am here," he grunted under his breath as he slipped into a
screening mat of sagebrush.

An ebbing redness outlined the mountains to the west, and indigo
shadows draped the camp, softening the outlines of the dome-shaped
dwellings. Someone threw more sagebrush on the fire where the elders
sat smoking and talking.

Sage Ghost crawled closer, careful to make no sound. Now he could
smell the camp: scents of sage smoke, dogs, and humans. The odor of
rich dust hung in his nostrils.

One of the old men called something, waving his hand to emphasize his
order. The girl jumped to her feet, wary eyes on the elder. She
looked to be about ten winters old, maybe a little younger. She
answered neutrally and plucked a skin bag from the tripod by the fire.
Slinging it over a skinny shoulder, she started down toward the
river.
Sage Ghost's heart hammered as he rose and drifted silently after her
in the deepening gloom. She walked with a grace and balance unusual in
a girl her age. Thick black hair hung down to her waist. She hummed
some Earth People song under her breath as she wound through the
sagebrush, moccasins patting on the worn trail.

Sage Ghost hovered like a falcon over an unsuspecting rabbit, gliding
on bobcat-silent feet. She hopped lightly down to the riverbank,
unslinging the hide bag. For a moment she looked up, eyes searching
the heavens. Then she sighed and bent over the water, a mere shadow
among shadows. He could hear her feet splashing.

The east had darkened, the first faint flickers of stars penetrating
the veil of the sky. Finches and sage thrashers chirped to the growing
darkness; evening settled like velvet soot on the land.

Sage Ghost eased one foot after another as he closed on the child.
Years of hunting had trained him for this moment; skill flowed through
him like a special kind of Power. Water gurgled as it filled the pouch
she held to the current.

Careful, Sage Ghost. One false move now and you'll fail. If she
screams, all will be lost.

She stood, water dripping musically from the sides of the bag and
covering the sound of his movement. His hand clapped over her mouth as
he pulled her backward.