Feather by Susan Page Davis Page A

inhuman roaring tore the air, and all heads swiveled to stare. The sound was followed by a man’s shout, and Feather stood up. A ragged, bleeding man was scrambling over the tumbled stones toward the broken stairway that led down from the city.
    It wasn’t Tag; she knew that at once. The man was a stranger to her from another band. He all but fell down the stairs, and as he neared the bottom, Feather caught her breath. Above him, a great, lithe panther leaped to the top of the highest block of stone overlooking their camp and stood watching the retreating man. Its tail switched, and its eyes seemed to sneer at the people.
    As the man gained the edge of the camp, where the leaders were swarming to receive him, the cat raised its head and let out another piercing scream that made Feather shake all over.
    The young man staggered toward his band gasping for breath. High above his head he held a small bunch of the orange fur.
    The Blens rushed toward him, yelling in exultation, but Feather still stood, her eyes riveted on the giant cat. It snarled once more, then turned and hopped down from its perch, disappearing gracefully back into the city.
    Throughout the day the young men emerged one and two at a time, some bleeding, their arms and torsos slashed by the claws of the cats. An hour before sunset, ten of them had returned to camp. Two of them had come emptyhanded, and their leaders had screamed at them, shaming them before all the other people.
    “Go back!” cried Tomen, the leader of the largest band. “These other men have conquered the cats! Go back and finish your task, or you are not fit to be a man.”
    The two unsuccessful boys cringed, and one of them started slowly walking back toward the crumbling stone steps, but the other only shrank from Tomen, curling his arms around his head. Tomen picked up a stick and began to beat the boy with it until he turned and ran, not toward the city, but out toward the plain they had left the day before.
    “He will not survive alone,” Kama said, shaking her head as she watched the boy run.
    Feather gritted her teeth. “It is so cruel.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she did not try to stop them.
    Kama looked at her and raised her eyebrows. “It is the way of the men. Now if women made the rules, it would be different.”
    Feather turned away. She ought to help Hana and the others prepare the feast for tonight’s celebration, but she couldn’t. Her throat was dry, and she felt ill. The time was almost up, and none of the boys from Mik’s band had returned.
    The sun dipped without mercy toward the hilltops. One more boy came down the steps, exhausted but triumphant. Feather swallowed back her fear as she watched his band receive him. This could not, it must not, be happening.
    As the colors of the sunset diffused into rose and purple and gold, Kama came once more to stand beside her.
    “Your friend would not give up,” the older woman said.
    Feather sobbed and turned toward the sunset.
    “He was a brave boy,” Kama whispered.
    Just the top slice of sun still showed, and the clouds shimmered with brilliant color. Feather saw Mik standing with Temon. The two leaders whose young men had not all returned were grim faced, watching together as the sun slid away.
    A sudden shout went up, and everyone turned toward the city once more. Three figures came slowly down the steps, picking their way on the rough path. Two of the young men supported the third between them, half carrying him.
    The violent surge of joy that rocked Feather sent her to her knees. Tag and Vel were bringing Cade back, and all of them were alive. She hardly dared look further, but the onset of cheering and dancing told her what the rest of her band now knew. The three boys had completed the test.
    As darkness fell, the three of Mik’s band were led to seats of honor near the cook fire. Feather stayed in the shadows, as Mik accepted the clump of fur from each of the three and inserted it in the