Beneath a tree sat a lean man watching. In weather such as this, and with no ceremonial toward, the men of the long houses went all but nude. But the lean man dressed every day, and that with punctiliousness and ornamentation. He had this morning, beside other apparel, a string of small, dried gourds passing over one shoulder and under the other. They rattled when he moved.
“Ha!” chanted the hoeing women—
“We are going to see
That which we shall see!
We are going to put
Yuba in the earth!
If she rots there, bad!
If she grows there, good!
Yuba! grow big!
Yuba! make children!
Then shall we eat
Without going to seek.
Then shall we have
Yuba to our hand!
Yuba and her children,
Sweet to the tooth!
Then none will hunger,
Though the fish go away!
Then none will hunger,
Though the men kill no meat!
Then those who laugh,
Saying, ‘What do you do,
Scratching there in the earth?’
They will come to us begging.
They will cry, ‘Give us Yuba!’”
The man with the gourds chose the attitude of contempt before an infant industry. He spoke in a guttural voice. “You are like fish and have no sense! I go into the forest and when I am hungry, I look around me, and I sing, ‘Yuba! Yuba!’ ‘Here I am!’ says Yuba plant. ‘Dig me up!’—But you say, ‘Let us tie Yuba to the houses!’” He shook the gourds. “You are more foolish than the fish. They do not go about to make the river angry. But you go about to make Yuba angry!”
The women leaned upon their hoes and regarded with apprehension the heap of Yuba roots. The sun lay golden all around. “She does not look angry! We think she likes to come near the houses.”
But the man with the gourds remained indignant. “Ha! No, she does not! All kinds of things are coming to be angry with you women!” He shook the rattling string. “What will you give me if I go to the forest and sing and dance for you before Yuba?”
“We are going to dance before her here,” said the farmers. “We are going to make a great Yuba dance!—Why don’t you go hunting? All the men are hunting.”
The sitter under the tree shook from a gourd a number of long and sharp thorns. “Yes, they are hunting! They are hunting Big Trouble. But I, too, hunt Big Trouble, and I hunt better than they.” He spoke with growing unction. “Yesterday I went into the forest. I did not go with others—I went by myself. I found Big Trouble’s footprints. I found where he had broken the canes and laid down. I stuck long thorns in his footprints.” He talked with gestures no less than with words. “I put thorns in the earth where he rolled. So to-day Big Trouble is going like this—” He got up and limped painfully about, then sat down and with his long nail drew a mark across the ground before him. “I did so before his footprints. Now, wherever he goes, the pit is before him! Now they will hunt Big Trouble easily. Now he will go straight to the pit they have made and fall in it.” He fell himself, doubled-up, upon the ground to show the manner of it, then retook his first posture and shook the gourds. “They think they are hunting Big Trouble. But Haki and One Other hunted him first! Now I sit still and wait for the men to come home. They will give me so much meat.” He measured with his arms. “I will burn a part of it for One Other.”
The awe he meant to evoke was faintly apparent. The farmers laughed uneasily, with a catch of the breath. “Don’t put thorns in our footprints!” said one; and another, “Rub out the pit you’ve made before us there!” He smeared it over with the palm of his hand, then shook the gourds and looked sidelong and slily at the working women. “Will you give me Yuba if she stays here and grows for you?”
“Oh, we’ll give you plenty!” answered the farmers. They laughed as they said it, but they laughed uneasily. However, they went on singing, using the first hoes.