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    The Blessing Way
    The Blessing Way
    The Blessing Way
    Ebook227 pages3 hours

    The Blessing Way

    By Tony Hillerman

    4/5

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    Don’t miss the TV series, Dark Winds, based on the Leaphorn, Chee, & Manuelito novels, now on AMC and AMC+!  

    “Brilliant…as fascinating as it is original.”—St. Louis Post-Dispatch

    From New York Times bestselling author Tony Hillerman, the first novel in his series featuring Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn & Officer Jim Chee who encounter a bizarre case that borders between the supernatural and murder

    Homicide is always an abomination, but there is something exceptionally disturbing about the victim discovered in a high, lonely place—a corpse with a mouth full of sand—abandoned at a crime scene seemingly devoid of tracks or useful clues. Though it goes against his better judgment, Navajo Tribal Police Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn cannot help but suspect the hand of a supernatural killer.

    There is palpable evil in the air, and Leaphorn's pursuit of a Wolf-Witch leads him where even the bravest men fear, on a chilling trail that winds perilously between mysticism and murder.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateMar 17, 2009
    ISBN9780061795206
    Author

    Tony Hillerman

    TONY HILLERMAN served as president of the Mystery Writers of America and received the Edgar and Grand Master Awards. His other honors include the Center for the American Indian’s Ambassador Award, the Spur Award for Best Western Novel, and the Navajo Tribal Council Special Friend of the Dineh Award. A native of Oklahoma, Tony Hillerman lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico, until his death in 2008.

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    Reviews for The Blessing Way

    4/5

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    • 3/5
      The first book in this native-American series that features a Navajo tribal policeman who uses logic and his knowledge of the Navajo way of life, superstition and ritual to solve a murder.
    • 3/5
      One of my less favourite stories from Hillerman. The plot seemed fractured and uncertain what direction it was headed. There were less interludes 'on the rez' (although a lot of southwest landscape, excellently captured) and more about non-native characters and machinations. I read this one long after reading Hillerman's later novels, so I would guess he hadn't yet developed his Navajo groove. There didn't seem much connection to the actual 'Blessing Way' cure, which made the title seem misleading.
    • 4/5
      the disappearance of Luis Horseman who thinks he has murdered someone and takes off for a lonely corner of the Navajo tribal lands. Leaphorn a Navajo 'Law and Order' sets out to find him, What he finds is a body, which seems a bit odd. The death is suspicious and witchcraft is suggested. Leaphorn must sift through the facts and the fiction to understand the Navajo's death.

      I really liked this novel, (4 stars), and while I guessed the "Whodunnit", the "why dunnit" was harder to guess. The action was nonstop, and so many insights into the Navajo culture and community. A truly great read.
    • 3/5
      The first of Hillerman's Leaphorn/Chee mysteries, set in and around the Navajo Indian Reservation in Arizona and New Mexico, The Blessing Way reads exactly like a first novel. The narrative is clunky and the mystery weak, resulting in a short novel that plods along. A wanted man wandering in a deserted area of the reservation crosses paths with a legendary Navajo witch and meets his demise. His body is discovered leading Lt. Joe Leaphorn of the Navajo Tribal Police to investigate in his own way - relying more on getting to know potential witnesses as friends and fellow Navajo, rather than using typical police investigative techniques. Interestingly, Leaphorn is not the main character here - that would be Professor Bergen McPhee who is studying Navajo supernatural folklore and stumbles into the criminal plot. The tribal lore is excellent, as are the descriptions of the vast Southwestern expanses, the buttes, washes and arroyos. But the mystery is fairly thin and the motive seems pretty far-fetched. Thankfully, the series would only get better from here.
    • 4/5
      This was my first read of a Tony Hillerman novel and it did not disappoint. The stark, economical prose is perfect for the story's atmosphere, capturing the stark, elemental beauty of the Southwest landscape that serves as the backdrop for the tale. I really enjoyed the way Hillerman depicts the collision between the traditional Navajo philosophy and the harsh realities of living in contemporary America. The mystery was compelling, it kept me guessing, and Leaphorn and McKee made me care deeply about the outcome.

      I'm looking forward to reading other novels in the series!
    • 4/5
      I normally never read mysteries, but this author is an exception. I saw one f his books recommended on lj years ago and went and found it and read it. I loved it. The main character is a cop on a big Navajo reservation down in the US. The stories all involve Navajo culture as part of the plot and the descriptions of the landscape make you feel like you are really there. Honestly I enjoyed the first one a bit more than this one because I like the female lead better for the side plot of romance. But I still liked this one and am looking forward to the two other books in the series that I got out of the discard pile at work.
    • 3/5
      I heard a lot about this series and I decided it was time to give them a try. The PBS version of [Skinwalkers] looked really good. I enjoyed the setting and the characters. But like many other reviewers, I liked the book until the ending. I felt like things were just explained at the end, but the reader wasn't shown how the motives were uncovered. I will read the next one in the series, and hope that they get better.
    • 3/5
      Supernatural read...makes you wonder. Joe Leaphorn solves another mystery; this time a mystery within a mystery. Good read, on to the next Hillerman book.
    • 4/5
      The mystery aspect of this book was weak in many ways because it felt that he handed us the killer on a silver platter, so there wasn't a lot of guessing as to why the characters were in the dire situations that they found themselves in, but what greatly enhances the rating of this particular book is the sheer immersion into Native American culture that it contains. Hillerman does an excellent job of making these scenes feel authentic, which is important when someone is not totally related to the culture like Hillerman (Hillerman is a white male, but was raised around the Navajo culture in his youth according to additional content in the kindle edition.)

      The book tends to focus to heavily on a side character in this first book of Leaphorn, but I imagine it was because he was originally just a side character that wasn't supposed to be that prominent at all in the book but Hillerman was asked to make him a bigger character by his editor. I imagine in the subsequent novels featuring him that he has more of a role and prominence. If you can get past this fact since it is the first novel in the series then you will greatly enjoy what he produces here.

      As previously stated the mystery aspect is a little obvious and the moments are not that shocking when certain revelations occur. This still makes the mystery aspect of the book fine in my opinion because not every mystery needs to be a guessing game for the reader. Sometimes it needs to be handing them all the pieces so they can focus on other aspects of the novel, which as stated I think the Native American aspects were what needed to be focused in on in this first novel in the series, so we had a grasp on what the rest of the series would look like. It wasn't the best book I have read this year, but it was a quick read that I completed in one day, which makes it a great book in my opinion because you don't have to sit with it for a long period of time. You can just have a new experience with a new culture in the matter of one day!
    • 4/5
      A reservation cop looking for a fugitive and an anthropologist doing research on Navajo beliefs about witchcraft find their two investigations converging when the man's body turns up in mysterious circumstances and the locals suspect supernatural foul play. To start off with, this book has a few things going for it. The mysterious murder is sufficiently mysterious. The desert southwest setting is well rendered. And the glimpses it gives of Navajo culture are interesting and nicely handled. (Well, nicely handled in the sense that Hillerman takes the culture on its own terms, rather than exoticisizing or idealizing it for white readers. I don't have enough personal experience to say whether it's completely accurate or not, but I get the impression he knows what he's talking about.) Unfortunately, the story itself failed to grab me. The plot just wasn't all that interesting, and the characters felt very, very generic. Especially the weak, damsel-in-need-of-protection female character. Bleh.I'm not sorry I read it, but I'm not feeling any great need, at this point, to continue with the rest of the series.
    • 4/5
      This was a really good mystery story. It takes place on a Navajo reservation. Joe Leaphorn is a Navajo cop who is able to use his knowledge of ancient traditions and culture to bring people out and gather the information he needs to solve the mystery. The real hero of this one (I'm guessing Joe's character will flesh out as the series goes along--after all the series is named after him)is a sort of has-been college professor/anthropologist named Bergen McKee. Even tho I had figured out 'whodunnit' with about 20% of the book left, it didn't spoil my enjoyment of this adventure. Not only was the plot a good one, and the characters well drawn and interesting, the descriptions of Navajo life, poetry, and scenery were an added bonus. I will definitely be reading another in this series
    • 3/5
      Hillerman's # 1 with Navajo Police Lt. Joe Leaphorn. Story begins with death of young Indian man by sand suffocation. Was he killed by a witch ? Before long more bodies turn up and plot evolves into missile testing, Mafia interestsn and there are at least five dead. Story takes place in desert/reservation lands of New Mexico-Arizona-Utah region. I will read other books in this series but doubt that I'll read them all.
    • 4/5
      Excellent book. The richness of the Navajo culture and heritage gave the story significant depth and texture. All the suspense is packed into the last third of the story, but its well worth the wait.
    • 4/5
      Well, this was a treat. I decided to reread my Hillerman before I gave them away, but I didn't have this one, so I downloaded it from the library. And I discovered that I'd never read it before! It's Hillerman's debut Joe Leaphorn mystery. We meet Joe as a young policeman, and several other members of the general cast of the series. It's clear (and Hillerman confesses as much) that Joe was meant to be a minor character until his publisher encouraged revisions, and even then, a professor doing field work has a more prominent place in the story. In typical Hillerman fashion, we are presented with a story of a witch, in this case a Wolf, as well as a ne'er-do-well young Navajo trying to hide from the law in the rough canyon lands. But the young Navajo ends up dead, and the professor ends up in the thick if it. There's a young woman, a greedy set of young men intent on making their fortunes, an Enemy Way ritual. Any more than that would be telling.
    • 4/5
      I always enjoy a good Tony Hillerman novel, and I particularly liked this one. It's one of his earlier ones featuring Joe Leaphorn as a younger man and without the Jim Chee character and all of his problems with women. The descriptions of the Navajo culture are very good in this one, and I loved his descriptions of the Southwest.
    • 4/5
      An exciting page-turner about witches and pseudo-witches; pro Navaho people, anti-academics
    • 4/5
      A creepy, well written mystery that is a perfect October read. A great blend of supernatural and mystery.

    • 4/5
      The mystery aspect of this book was weak in many ways because it felt that he handed us the killer on a silver platter, so there wasn't a lot of guessing as to why the characters were in the dire situations that they found themselves in, but what greatly enhances the rating of this particular book is the sheer immersion into Native American culture that it contains. Hillerman does an excellent job of making these scenes feel authentic, which is important when someone is not totally related to the culture like Hillerman (Hillerman is a white male, but was raised around the Navajo culture in his youth according to additional content in the kindle edition.)

      The book tends to focus to heavily on a side character in this first book of Leaphorn, but I imagine it was because he was originally just a side character that wasn't supposed to be that prominent at all in the book but Hillerman was asked to make him a bigger character by his editor. I imagine in the subsequent novels featuring him that he has more of a role and prominence. If you can get past this fact since it is the first novel in the series then you will greatly enjoy what he produces here.

      As previously stated the mystery aspect is a little obvious and the moments are not that shocking when certain revelations occur. This still makes the mystery aspect of the book fine in my opinion because not every mystery needs to be a guessing game for the reader. Sometimes it needs to be handing them all the pieces so they can focus on other aspects of the novel, which as stated I think the Native American aspects were what needed to be focused in on in this first novel in the series, so we had a grasp on what the rest of the series would look like. It wasn't the best book I have read this year, but it was a quick read that I completed in one day, which makes it a great book in my opinion because you don't have to sit with it for a long period of time. You can just have a new experience with a new culture in the matter of one day!
    • 4/5
      I'm glad I'd read reviews of Tony Hillerman's first book in his Navajo Crime series, The Blessing Way before I started reading. It stated on Amazon and elsewhere that the first book might not be quite up to speed as the rest of the series, which I'm quite keen to read. I'd have to agree it wasn't quite what I expected at first - drier, less crime detection and more Navajo culture (not a bad thing). But about halfway through, the story really started to pick up and from then on, I was hooked. I began to really enjoy the writer's style. I'd rate the first half of the book 3.5 stars and the last half 4.5 stars. I'm looking forward to more and deeper plots involving Jim Leaphorn and settling into a nice long set of mysteries.
    • 3/5
      For me, the beginning was a little rough. It is the first book in this detective series set on Navajo tribal lands. Hillman takes time to explain The Navajo Way, which I found fascinating (like the fact that there is no word for time" in their language), but it felt like roughly inserted patchwork. About a quarter of the way in, this smoothed over and the book read more like a traditional Murder Mystery. Plot summary: a young Navajo is found murdered on the side of the road. Lt. Joe Leaphorn of the Navajo Tribal Police is willing to consider the supernatural when the corpse is found with a mouth full of sand, abandoned at a crime scene high on the mesa with no tracks and no apparent useful clues next to the body. Professor Bergen McKee approaches the mystery from an academic angle. He is researching Wolf-Witch legend and becomes entangled in the investigation. The setting is beautiful. The mystery is simple, but with enough plot twists to keep the reader happy. It is a little clunky in parts, but good enough that I look forward to the next in the series.On a side note: I was peeved with my Kindle edition. I can only see the percentage read, so I was at 90% when the story concluded (the rest was filled with promos and other stuff) and that made the ending feel very abrupt to me. Not the writer's fault.
    • 3/5
      The first of Hillerman's Joe Leaphorn books. I've read later books in the series that I enjoyed more than this one. I really like the Leaphorn character here, "blue policeman" from Law and Order and his interactions with the Navajo people but elements of the storytelling here interfered with my enjoyment of the story. Several characters here are really well done and a couple not, one exceedingly so. We are given most of the mystery up front and follow along to see if the characters can figure it out. The reader gets a few surprises also.
    • 5/5
      One of his best, I think.
    • 4/5
      Some mysteries stand out because of an unforgettable character like Sherlock Holmes, or a distinct style like that of Chandler or mind-bending plots like that of Agatha Christie. In those areas, this novel was decent, but not impressive--what makes this novel stand out is setting. Published in 1970, the novel is set in the Navajo Reservation in New Mexico and the detective is Joe Leaphorn of the Tribal Police. The novel transported me into what is for me an alien way of thinking, a different spirituality and landscape. I have no way of knowing how accurate Hillerman is, but he certainly gave me the illusion of better knowing the way of the Dineh, their rituals and myths, when I closed the book, and the descriptions of the Southwest desert and wildlife was evocative and striking.
    • 4/5
      These are like comfort food for me -- a mystery series that my Dad loves and shared with me years ago. I do appreciate the intricacy of Hillerman's presentation of Navajo culture, and his respectful writing.
    • 5/5
      This mystery introduces Joe Leaphorn, a police officer on a Navaho reservation in the Southwest. He is a Navaho who is also college educated and who served in the military with duty in Korea. His case this time deals with the death of Luis Horseman who was wanted for questioning after a knife fight. When his body was found 100 miles from where Joe expected him to be and his cause of death was unusual, Joe begins to visit people and ask questions.Meanwhile, Joe's friend anthropologist Bergen McKee is summering on the reservation looking for information about Wolf-Witches for a paper he is planning to write. McKee is traveling with archaeologist J. R. Canfield who is exploring Anasazi ruins. McKee is also talking to people about rumors of witchcraft.Joe's investigation and McKee's overlap since opinion on the reservation is that Horseman's death was caused by a witch. And both investigations find them encountering an unexpected villain with murderous intentions. The mystery was interesting and well-plotted and took some unexpected turns. I enjoyed becoming immersed in Navaho culture and beliefs as I read this story. I liked the way Leaphorn fit into his environment and altered his investigative style to fit with the culture. Leaphorn was an interesting character that I would like to know more about. Luckily, this is the first of a long series.
    • 4/5
      Interesting with lots of local color and Navajo background. Surprised at how little Leaphorn appeared in the story.
    • 3/5
      The Blessing Way is an odd story. It is difficult to follow. The title doesn't seem to match the story which deals with Navajo beliefs in witches and people taking advantage of their beliefs. There are murders, researchers, and a group looking for easy money. Because of the ambiguity of the story only three stars were awarded here. Not one of Mr. Hillerman's better stories.
    • 3/5
      3.5***

      From the dust jacket: When Lt. Joe Leaphorn of the Navajo Tribal Police discovers a corpse with a mouth full of sand at a crime scene seemingly without tracks or clues, he is ready to suspect a supernatural killer. Blood on the rocks … a body on the high mesa … Leaphorn must stalk the Wolf-Witch along a chilling trail between mysticism and murder.

      This is the first in the series featuring Leaphorn. Hillerman weaves in considerable Navajo lore in this very real story of murder and mayhem. The point of view switches among the characters (although not the bad guy) so we are treated to the victim, innocent bystanders, and Leaphorn each observing parts of the puzzle without clear indications as to how the pieces fit together. Oh, we do discover who the Wolf-Witch is pretty quickly, but not WHY he behaves as he does. Hillerman leaves it up to Leaphorn to explain it all in the end.

      I love Lt Joe Leaphorn. He is methodical, steady, unflappable, intelligent, pensive, courteous, a keen observer, skilled tracker and ever willing to listen. It’s this last quality that makes him such a good detective. He hears the clues in both what is said and how it is said, and even in what is NOT said.

      I thought the dust jacket blurb was misleading; Leaphorn never actually suspects supernatural elements. He is all too aware that most such evil acts are perpetrated by very human killers. But he is certainly intrigued and puzzled by the appearance of the Witch, and the beliefs of the tribal people who have been terrorized (or just “bothered”) by him. In many ways this makes me think of the stories my grandparents or great aunts would tell … full of ghosts and spirits, yet also imparting valuable lessons on how to conduct oneself “the right way.” It’s a wonderful blend of the mystical with the realities of life. I’ll definitely continue reading the series.
    • 4/5
      This is the first of the books that Tony Hillerman wrote about the Navajo tribal policemen Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee. I read that in an interview Hillerman said he did not necessarily think the Blessing Way was a very good place for people to start reading the series and it is easy to see why he thought that. Many of the elements that made this series so successful are in this first book, but some of those elements are confusing and even disruptive in this first novel.In all of the books, the Navajo Way is part of the flow and texture of the story. The history and the spiritual beliefs of the Navajo are not just informative in future books but part of the understanding of the people and the motives for what happens within the mystery. In the Blessing Way though, this is used excessively and it is often times disruptive to the flow of the story. One example is the use of the songs that the Navajos sing/chant. In this book there are 8-9 occasions where Hillerman gives the actual lines in the song that are being chanted. And while this may be informative, in the second book, Dance Hall of the Dead, Hillerman only does this one time. Understanding the importance of the songs and how they fit into the Navajo Way of life is very important to the understanding of all the stories. But the 10-15 lines of actual verse that are being chanted in each of the songs impedes the flow of the narrative and is not effective either in advancing the story or in understanding the Navajo people. Another of the oddities about this first book in the series is that Joe Leaphorn is really not Joe Leaphorn yet. Not as we know him from future books. In fact he has a little of Jim Chee in him in this book. You can almost feel Hillerman struggling with the conflict between the analytical side of Leaphorn and the spiritual needs of Leaphorn. Hillerman would quickly learn to let Leaphorn be Leaphorn - be a policeman first and foremost – very analytical and focused on the mystery. Hillerman brought Jim Chee into the series in the fourth book and the spiritual side of the Navajo Way could be explored much more effectively through him than trying to do both through Joe Leaphorn. Joe Leaphorn just couldn’t do the Jim Chee part very well in this book. Leaphorn even sings a Navajo song in the later part of the book. He would never, ever have done this in later books. It seems odd to hear him try and do it in this story. That’s what Chee would have done. Not Leaphorn. But the strangest of all the oddities in the Blessing Way is that Leaphorn is really only partially the focus of the story. There is a white professor, Bergen McKee that is actually much more in the center of the story. He is the one that is in the middle of the major action scenes and it is his perspective that the reader follows during almost all of the critical parts of the story. This in some ways makes sense on Hillerman’s part. He uses a white professor in the story to indicate that he is not trying to pretend he is a Navajo, but rather is telling his story as a white man venturing into the Navajo world. The problem is that even though McKee is a very credible character, as is the white, female graduate student that he becomes romantically linked to, the story ends up being focused on their actions, their thoughts, and their perspective, not on the Navajo perspective. It was smart on Hillerman’s part to try and use a white protagonist in this original story, but it was ten times wiser on his part to abandon McKee in future stories and focus on Leaphorn and Chee. Because the strength of the whole series is the exploration of the Navajo Way through the eyes of the Navajo people.
    • 4/5
      I have nothing profound to say about this book. It's a fairly straight-forward mystery made more interesting by its focus on the Navajo, their lands and their culture. I misjudged what was really going on which made the plot more interesting as the truth began to come out.I came to this with a bit of preconception—mainly that Joe Leaphorn, the Navajo police officer, was the major character. I was a little surprised to find that he's pretty much second banana here to the anthropologist, Bergen McKee (not a Navajo, as you might guess by the name). I didn't mind particularly; the book is still distinctly centered away from mainstream American culture and I suspect Joe will play a more significant role in later books in the series.

    Book preview

    The Blessing Way - Tony Hillerman

    > 1 <

    LUIS HORSEMAN LEANED the flat stone very carefully against the piñon twig, adjusted its balance exactly and then cautiously withdrew his hand. The twig bent, but held. Horseman rocked back on his heels and surveyed the deadfall. He should have put a little more blood on the twig, he thought, but it might be enough. He had placed this one just right, with the twig at the edge of the kangaroo rat’s trail. The least nibble and the stone would fall. He reached into his shirt front, pulled out a leather pouch, extracted an odd-shaped lump of turquoise, and placed it on the ground in front of him. Then he started to sing:

    "The Sky it talks about it.

    The Talking God One he tells about it.

    The Darkness to Be One knows about it.

    The Talking God is with me.

    With the Talking God I kill the male game."

    There was another part of the song, but Horseman couldn’t remember it. He sat very still, thinking. Something about the Black God, but he couldn’t think how it went. The Black God didn’t have anything to do with game, but his uncle had said you have to put it in about him to make the chant come out right. He stared at the turquoise bear. It said nothing. He glanced at his watch. It was almost six. By the time he got back to the rimrock it would be late enough to make a little fire, dark enough to hide the smoke. Now he must finish this.

    "The dark horn of the bica,

    No matter who would do evil to me,

    The evil shall not harm me.

    The dark horn is a shield of beaten buckskin."

    Horseman chanted in a barely audible voice, just loud enough to be heard in the minds of the animals.

    "That evil which the Ye-i turned toward me cannot reach me through the dark horn, through the shield the bica carries.

    It brings me harmony with the male game.

    It makes the male game hear my heartbeat.

    From four directions they trot toward me.

    They step and turn their sides toward me.

    "So my arrow misses bone when I shoot.

    The death of male game comes toward me.

    The blood of male game will wash my body.

    The male game will obey my thoughts."

    He replaced the turquoise bear in the medicine pouch and rose stiffly to his feet. He was pretty sure that wasn’t the right song. It was for deer, he thought. To make the deer come out where you could shoot them. But maybe the kangaroo rats would hear it, too. He looked carefully across the plateau, searching the foreground first, then the mid-distance, finally the great green slopes of the Lukachukai Mountains, which rose to the east. Then he moved away from the shelter of the stunted juniper and walked rapidly northwestward, moving silently and keeping to the bottom of the shallow arroyos when he could. He walked gracefully and silently. Suddenly he stopped. The corner of his eye had caught motion on the floor of the Kam Bimghi Valley. Far below him and a dozen miles to the west, a puff of dust was suddenly visible against a formation of weathered red rocks. It might be a dust devil, kicked up by one of the Hard Flint Boys playing their tricks on the Wind Children. But it was windless now. The stillness of late afternoon had settled over the eroded waste below him.

    Must have been a truck, Horseman thought, and the feeling of dread returned. He moved cautiously out of the wash behind a screen of piñons and stood motionless, examining the landscape below him. Far to the west, Bearer of the Sun had moved down the sky and was outlining in brilliant white the form of a thunderhead over Hoskininie Mesa. The plateau where Horseman stood was in its shadow but the slanting sunlight still lit the expanse of the Kam Bimghi. There was no dust by the red rocks now, and Horseman wondered if his eyes had tricked him. Then he saw it again. A puff of dust moving slowly across the valley floor. A truck, Horseman thought, or a car. It would be on that track that came across the slick rocks and branched out toward Horse Fell and Many Ruins Canyon, and now to Tall Poles Butte where the radar station was. It must be a truck, or a jeep. That track wasn’t much even in good weather. Horseman watched intently. In a minute he could tell. And if it turned toward Many Ruins Canyon, he would move east across the plateau and up into the Lukachukais. And that would mean being hungry.

    The dust disappeared as the vehicle dropped into one of the mazes of arroyos which cut the valley into a crazy quilt of erosion. Then he saw it again and promptly lost it where the track wound to the west of Natani Tso, the great flat-topped lava butte which dominated the north end of the valley. Almost five minutes passed before he saw the dust again.

    Ho, Horseman said, and relaxed. The truck had turned toward Tall Poles. It would be the Army people who watched the radar place. He moved away from the tree, trotting now. He was hungry and there was a porcupine to singe, clean, and roast before he would eat.

    Luis Horseman had chosen this camp with care. Here the plateau was cut by one of the hundred nameless canyons which drained into the depth of Many Ruins Canyon. Along the rim, the plateau’s granite cap, its sandstone support eroded away, had fractured under its own weight. Some of these great blocks of stone had crashed into the canyon bottom, leaving behind room-sized gaps in the rim rock. Others had merely tilted and slid. Behind one of these, Horseman knelt over his fire. It was a small fire, built in the extreme corner of the natural enclosure. With nothing overhead to reflect its light, it would have been visible only to one standing on the parapet, looking down. Now its flickering light gave the face of Luis Horseman a reddish cast. It was a young face, thin and sensitive, with large black eyes and a sullen mouth. The forehead was high, partly hidden by a red cloth band knotted at the back, and the nose was curved and thin. Hawklike. He sat crosslegged on the hump of sand drifted into the enclosure from the plateau floor above. The only sound was the hissing of grease cooking from the strip of porcupine flesh he held over the flame. The animal had been a yearling, and small, and he ate about two-thirds of it. He sprinkled sand on the fire and put the remainder of the meat on the embers to be eaten in the morning. Then he lay back in the darkness. The moon would rise sometime after midnight, but now there were only the stars overhead. For the first time in three days, Luis Horseman felt entirely safe. As he relaxed, he felt an aching weariness. He would sleep in a little while, but first he had to think.

    Tomorrow, if he could, he would build a sweat house and take a bath. He would have to get a Singer somehow when it was safe and have a Blessing Way held for him, but that would have to wait. A sweat bath would have to do for now. It would take time, but tomorrow he would have time. He had what was left of the porcupine and he would have kangaroo rats. He was sure of that. He put out twelve or thirteen deadfalls baited with blood and porcupine fat and he thought the chant had been about right. Not exactly, but probably close enough. He would not think beyond tomorrow. Not now. By then they would know he had not gone back down to the Tsay-Begi country, to the clan of his in-laws, and they would be looking for him here.

    Horseman felt the dread again, and wished suddenly that he had his boots and something that would hold water. It was a long climb down into the canyon to the seep. They would be looking anywhere there was water and even if he covered his tracks, there would be a sign—broken grass at least. The porcupine stomach would hold a little water, enough for a day. He would use that until he could find something or kill something bigger. But there was nothing he could do about his feet. They hurt now, from all day walking in town shoes, and the shoes wouldn’t last if he had to cover much country.

    Then Horseman became aware of the sound, faint at first and then gradually louder. It was unmistakable. A truck. No. Two trucks. Driving in low gear. A long way off to the west. The light night breeze shifted slightly and the sound was gone. And when it blew faintly again from the west, he could barely hear the motors. Finally he could hear nothing. Only the call of the nighthawk hunting across the plateau and the crickets chirping down by the seep. Must have been in Many Ruins Canyon, Horseman thought. It sounded like they were going down the canyon, away from him. But why? And who would it be? None of his clan would be in the canyon. His Red Forehead people stayed away from it, stayed clear of the Anasazi Houses. The Ye-i and the Horned Monster had eaten the Anasazi long ago—before the Monster Slayer came. But the ghosts of the Old People were there in the great rock hogans under the cliffs and his people stayed away. That was one of the reasons he had come here. Not too close to the Houses of the Enemy Dead, but close enough so the Blue Policeman wouldn’t think to look.

    Horseman felt his knife in his pocket pressing painfully against his hip. He shifted his weight, took it out, opened the long blade and laid it across his chest. Soon the moon rose over the plateau, and lit the figure of a thin young man sleeping, barefoot, on a hump of drifted sand.

    Horseman was at the seep a little after daylight. He drank thirstily from the pool under the rock and then cleaned the porcupine stomach sac thoroughly with sand, rinsed it, knotted the tube to the intestine and filled it with water. It held about two cups. The sweat bath would have to wait. He couldn’t risk building the sweat house here. And, if he built it in the protection of his camp, he had nothing large enough to carry water to pour on the rocks after he had heated them. He erased his tracks thoroughly with a brush of rabbit brush, and kept to the rocks on the long climb back to the canyon rim.

    Four of his deadfalls had been sprung but he found dead kangaroo rats under only two of the stones. Another yielded a wood mouse, which he threw away in disgust, and the other was empty. He glumly reset the traps. Two rats were not enough. There were frogs around the seep, but killing frogs would make you a cripple. He would try for the prairie dogs. A grown one would make a meal.

    The place Horseman had seen the prairie-dog colony was about a mile to the east. He used thirty minutes covering the distance, remembering the sound of the truck motors and moving cautiously. Maybe another of those rockets had fallen. He remembered the first time that had happened. It was the year he was initiated and there had been Army all over. Trucks and jeeps and helicopters flying around the valley, and they had come around to all the hogans and said there would be $10,000 paid to anyone who found it. But nobody ever did. Then they cut that road up Tall Poles and built the radar place and when the next rocket fell a year ago they had found it in two or three days.

    He stopped by a dead juniper, broke off a crooked limb and started whittling a throwing stick. He could sometimes hit a rabbit with one, but usually not prairie dogs. They were too careful. While he shaped the stick he stared out across the Kam Bimghi. Nothing at all was moving now, and that probably meant it wasn’t a rocket down. There would be a lot going on now if it was that. Besides, they wouldn’t have been hunting a rocket at night.

    He didn’t have a chance to use the throwing stick. The burrows of the colony were bunched below a hummock of piñon and one of the rodents saw him long before he was in range. There was a chittering outburst of warning calls, and in a second the dogs were in their holes.

    Horseman put the throwing stick in his hip pocket and broke a smaller limb from a piñon. He sharpened one end, split the other. Back at the prairie-dog colony, Horseman selected a hole which faced the west. He stuck the stick in the ground in front of it, pulled a thin sheet of mica from his medicine pouch, and slipped it into the split. He adjusted the mica carefully so that it reflected the light from the rising sun down the hole.

    Now he could only wait. In time the light would attract one of the curious prairie dogs. It would come out of its hole blinded by the reflected sun. And he would be close enough to use the stick. He glanced around for a place to stand. And then he saw the Navajo Wolf.

    He had heard nothing. But the man was standing not fifty feet away, watching him silently. He was a big man with his wolf skin draped across his shoulders. The forepaws hung limply down the front of his black shirt and the empty skull of the beast was pushed back on his forehead, its snout pointing upward.

    The Wolf looked at Horseman. And then he smiled.

    I won’t tell, Horseman said. His voice was loud, rising almost to a scream. And then he turned and ran, ran frantically down the dry wash which drained away from the prairie-dog colony. And behind him he heard the Wolf laughing.

    > 2 <

    THAT NIGHT THE Wind People moved across the Reservation. On the Navajo calendar it was eight days from the end of the Season When the Thunder Sleeps, the 25th of May, a night of a late sliver of moon. The wind pushed out of a high-pressure system centered over the Nevada plateau and carved shapes in the winter snowpack on San Francisco peaks, the Sacred Mountain of Blue Flint Woman. Below, at Flagstaff airport, it registered gusts up to thirty-two knots—the dry, chilled wind of high-country spring.

    On the west slope of the Lukachukai Mountains, the Wind People whined past the boulder where Luis Horseman was huddled, his body darkened by ashes to blind the ghosts. Horseman was calm now. He had thought and he had made his decision. The witch had not followed him. The man in the dog skin didn’t know him, had no reason to destroy him. And there was no place else to hide. Soon Billy Nez would know he was on this plateau and would bring him food, and then it would be better. Here the Blue Policeman could never find him. Here he must stay despite the Navajo Wolf.

    Horseman opened his medicine pouch and inspected the contents. Enough pollen but only a small pinch of the gall medicine which was the best proof against the Navajo Wolves. He removed the turquoise bear and set it on his knee.

    Horn of the bica, protect me, he chanted. From the Darkness to Be One, protect me. He wished, as he wished many times now that he was older, that he had listened when his uncle had taught him how to talk to the Holy People.

    A hundred miles south at Window Rock, the Wind People rattled at the windows of the Law and Order Building, where Joe Leaphorn was working his way through a week’s stack of unfinished case files. The file folder bearing the name of Luis Horseman was third from the bottom and it was almost ten o’clock when Leaphorn reached it. He read through it, leaned back in his chair, lit the last cigarette in his pack, tapped his finger against the edge of his desk and thought. I know where Horseman is. I’m sure I know. But there is no hurry about it. Horseman will keep. And then he listened to the voices in the wind, and thought of witches, and of Bergen McKee, his friend who studied them. He smiled, remembering, but the smile faded. Bergen, himself, was the victim of a witch—the woman who had married him, and damaged him, and left him to heal if he could. And apparently he couldn’t.

    He considered the letter he had received that week from McKee—talking of coming back to the Reservation to continue his witchcraft research. There had been such letters before, but McKee hadn’t come. And he won’t come this time, Leaphorn thought. Each year he waits to pick up his old life it will be harder for him. And maybe now it’s already too hard. And, thinking that, Leaphorn snapped off his desk lamp and sat a moment in the dark listening to the wind.

    At Albuquerque, four hundred miles to the east, the wind showed itself briefly in the apartment of Bergen McKee, as it shook the television transmission tower atop Sandia Crest and sent a

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