Read Online Walker of Time by Helen Hughes Vick - Free Book Online Page A

the limestone slab, his back rubbing against it. He stretched his head around the edge of the crevice and looked up. The natural shaft was about six feet deep and three feet wide. Forty-five feet above him, Walker saw the bottom of Scar Cheek’s feet climb over the top edge of the cliff.
    He looked down at Tag. “You okay?”
    Tag nodded. “Pretty ingenious, I have to admit. Great defensive planning, to say the least,” he added, pulling himself up to the second set of toeholds.
    â€œWait till you see what comes next,” Walker exclaimed, swinging his body into the crevice. On the left side of the crevice, notches had again been chiseled out of the limestone. Walker realized that the crevice was so deep and narrow that it would be almost impossible for anyone on the ground to see him climbing up.
    Even with the deep toeholds, scaling up the sheer cliff took all of Walker’s strength and concentration. Hot air blasted into the crevice. Sweat ran down his body in little streams. He heard a raven’s mocking cry as he carefully inched upward. Resting, he turned his head to look out of the limestone ravine. The cloudless, blue sky seemed harsh. The canyon’s cliffs were hostile.
    â€œGreat Taawa, guide us, your sons, in this time of longago. Help us to find harmony with the people of this canyon. Guide our minds and hearts,” Walker prayed, starting up the cliff again. “And our feet.”
    He heard Tag following below. “I can’t believe I’m doing this!”
    Looking up, Walker could see the top of the crevice. Scar Cheek’s square face appeared over the edge, staring down at him. Walker felt the hair on his neck stand on end. As Walker lifted himself up onto the last toehold, Scar Cheek’s hand reached down toward him.
    If he lets go
, Walker’s mind raced,
the ancient ones won’t have to worry about any witches
. He looked up into the black eyes above him. They were filled with apprehension toward a stranger as well as concern for another human being. Walker had seen this same look hundreds of times in the eyes of his Hopi people.
    Stretching up, Walker grasped Scar Cheek’s broad hand. With amazing strength, Scar Cheek lifted Walker up and over the edge of the crevice.
    Scrambling to his feet, Walker said, “Brother, thank you.”
    Scar Cheek nodded, turned, and crouched down, reaching over the edge again. Tag came flopping out of the crevice like a fish being hauled onto shore. His sweaty face was flushed. He sat panting on the dusty ground. He smiled up at Scar Cheek. “Walker, please tell him thank you for me,” Tag said, struggling to his feet.
    â€œVaava, kwa kwa,” Walker told Scar Cheek.
    Scar Cheek grunted, turned, and started up another narrow path among clumps of dry beeweed, yucca cactus, and boulders. Walker turned to Tag. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “Come on.”
    Within minutes, Walker heard noisy excitement. The sounds of nervous men explaining, worried women questioning, and anxious children whinnying reminded him of his Hopi village. He had heard this same kind of commotion each time something dangerous or strange had occurred in his village.
    A small, dark face with jackrabbit eyes peered out at him from behind a boulder. Another round face with curious eyes under a curtain of long, straight bangs peeked out from the other side of the boulder. Walker winked at them. The frightened faces disappeared.
    The path curved around a large outcrop of limestone. Walker saw a group of women huddled together at the entrance of a cliff dwelling. They were dressed in skirts and mantles similar to the ones Flute Maiden wore. One woman clutched a wooden cradle board with a tiny, sleeping infant strapped inside. Two small, identical, naked children hid behind the legs of the pretty woman in the center. Their thin faces peeked around their mother’s legs. The last woman held a large, white, ceramic water jug on