On Blue's waters

Hoof said, “They wanted to get paper on credit. Things are bad in town. Daisy just got back, and she says it’s really terrible.”

And Hide, “Did you give them credit, Father?”

“No,” I told him, “but I would have.”

“Those cardcases.” Sinew sneered. “You’d have had to.”

“You’re wrong,” I told him, and pointed the carving knife at him. “That’s what I have to make clear from the beginning. I don’t have to do what they want. They threatened me, or at least Gyrfalcon did. I ought to say he tried to, since I didn’t feel threatened. He could bring some pressure to bear on us, perhaps. But in less than a year I’d have him eating out of my hand.”

Sinew snorted.

“You think I couldn’t? You think it because I’ve always been gentle with you for your mother’s sake. It wasn’t like that in my family, believe me. Or in hers either. If you find yourself begging me before shadelow tomorrow,” to emphasize my point, I struck the table with the handle of the knife, “will you admit you were wrong? Are you man enough for that?”

He looked surly and said nothing. He is the oldest of our sons, and although I loved him, I did not like him. Not then, although things were different on Green.

Nor did he like me, I feel certain. (Nettle knows these things, naturally.)

She murmured, “This is worse than anything that they said to us.”

Hoof asked, “What did they say, anyhow?”

Hide seconded him, as Hide often did. “What did they want, Mother?”

It was then, I feel certain, that I passed the slice I had been cutting to you, darling. I remember what it looked like, which I find very odd tonight. I must have known that something enormously significant was happening, and associated it with our haunch of greenbuck. “In a way,” I told you, “you’re quite right. It was our book that brought them, though they were very careful not to say it until I got them in a corner. You, Hoof, are right too. Things are getting harder and hungrier for everybody every year. Why do you think that is?”

He shrugged. The twins are handsome, and to my eyes take after your mother more than either one of us, though I know you pretend to think they look like me. “Bad weather and bad crops. Their seed’s giving out.”

Hide said, “That thin one talked about that. I thought it was kind of interesting.”

I gave Sinew, who had always eaten like a fire in good times and bad, a thick slice with plenty of gristle. “Why is the seed yielding a poorer crop each year?”

“Why are you asking me? I didn’t say it was.”

“What difference does it make whether you asked or not? It happens to be true, and you being older than your brothers ought to be wiser. You think you are, so prove it. Why is the seed weakening? Or were you too busy throwing stones at the waves to listen?”

Hoof began, “I still want to know-”

“What those five people wanted. We’re talking about it.”

Sinew said slowly, “The good seed is the seed from the landers. That’s what everybody says. When the farmers save seed, it isn’t as nearly as good. The maize is worse than the others, but none of it’s quite as good.”

You nodded, Nettle darling. “That’s one of the things they said. I knew it already, and I’m sure your father did, too, but Eschar and Blazingstar lectured us about it anyway. Let’s talk about maize, for the present. It’s the most important, and the clearest example. Back home we had ever so many kinds. Do you remember, Horn?”

I nodded, smiling.

“At least four kinds of yellow maize that I can remember, and it wasn’t something I paid much attention to. Then there were black, red, and blue, and several sorts of white. Have any of you boys ever seen maize that wasn’t yellow?”

No one replied.

I had cut more slices while you spoke; I gave them to Hoof and Hide, saying, “I never saw any at home to equal the first crop we got on our farm. Ears a cubit long, packed with big kernels. The ears from the next planting weren’t any longer than my hand.” You said, “I’ve been seeing those here lately, in the market and the village gardens.”

“Yes, and here’s something I hadn’t known-something they explained to us. You get the best maize by crossing two strains. Some crosses are better than others, as you’d expect; but the best ones will yield a lot more than either of the original two, fight off blight, and need less water.”

I sat down and began to cut up the meat I had just given myself. It was clear from their expressions that neither Hoof nor Hide had understood.

You said, “Like crossing red and black maize. Isn’t that right, Horn?”

“Exactly. But according to what we were told, all those good qualities disappear in a year. The crop after the first is liable to be worse than either of the strains you crossed, in fact, and it’s always worse than the parent strain, the one from the crossing.”