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left in Day Woman’s body from leaking out onto the floor.
    THE NEAR RIVER VILLAGE
    “Gull Beak,” K’os called.
    It was morning, but not so early that the old woman should still be asleep. Although what did Gull Beak have to do all day except sew? Why not be lazy?
    “I brought you wood,” K’os called, and dropped the armful of windfall branches beside Gull Beak’s lodge. It was a good lodge, well-made, though K’os could see that the caribou hides were beginning to wear at the seams.
    K’os picked up a branch and scratched at the lodge walls.
    “You, Slave! What do you want?”
    She turned and saw Gull Beak walking toward her.
    “You think I would still be asleep this late in the day? A wise woman has more to do than sleep.”
    K’os set her mouth in anger but said nothing. If Gull Beak was so wise, why did she speak to K’os in such a way? Even though K’os was a slave, she had power enough to take Gull Beak’s life.
    “I came to bring you wood,” K’os said in a sweet voice, and lowered her eyes as though she spoke in respect.
    Gull Beak stopped at the heap of branches. “Who told you to do this?” she asked. “My husband?”
    She was a homely woman, tall and too thin, with large ears, small eyes. Surely her true name was not Gull Beak. Who would choose to name herself for a bird as lazy as a gull? But K’os could understand how she could be given the name by others. Her nose was sharp and long like the bill of a bird, and her voice so loud it carried like a gull’s above the sounds of the village.
    “No one told me. Even a slave has time to help others.”
    Gull Beak began to laugh. “But no slave would. I am not stupid. I know how it is with the Cousin River slaves. You do not have enough to eat. The fur on your parka is wearing thin and will not be good enough to get you through the winter. If no one made you do this, then why did you?”
    K’os narrowed her eyes. Gull Beak was wiser than she had thought—who would believe a woman with any wisdom at all would be wife to Fox Barking?
    “In my village, I was a healer,” K’os told her. “I had everything I wanted. My husband was chief hunter. I even had a slave myself, though I took pity on her and arranged that she should become a wife. I do not want to be a slave forever.”
    “You do not have to tell me what you were. I know. Everyone knows. We remember your visit to our village and how your husband died in a lodge fire while you were here. How can you hope to become wife when the men saw your husband’s bad luck? Do you think any hunter in this village will risk taking you? Most people think Black Mouth is foolish enough to have you as slave.”
    “Has anything terrible happened to Black Mouth?” K’os asked. “Has his hunting been bad? Have his children grown ill? Is his wife dead? No. His hunting skills have increased, two moons ago his wife delivered a strong son, and each of his children is well.”
    Gull Beak snorted. “If you are so lucky, why does Black Mouth not marry you himself?”
    “Two Fist does not want him to take a second wife.”
    Gull Beak shrugged. She kept a hearth outside her lodge, as though she were in a fish camp. She picked up several branches, laid them over the coals and tucked in a bit of birchbark she took from a pouch at her waist. Soon flames were licking into the branches. She adjusted a tripod over the fire and hung a cooking bag, crawled into her lodge and came back with a bladder of water. She dumped the water into the bag.
    “Stay for a little while,” she said to K’os. “The wood has earned you something to eat. I took a fine fat duck yesterday with my bola, and my husband was given some moose. Together they make a good stew.”
    K’os squatted beside the hearth, but Gull Beak made a rude gesture with her hand and said, “I am not your slave. Do not expect me to do all the work. Take some of the wood you brought and feed the fire. Then tell me why you came.”
    “In hopes of a good