“Other men look for another woman. Maybe there is a distant cousin who has no brothers. Maybe there is an old woman who has outlived all her relatives.

“But it is not easy to come to an agreement. The two people cannot speak. They cannot look at one another. The woman does not know who visits her, leaving the lizard skins. She has no idea of the right gifts to give him. A mother would know. So would a sister.

“Often the woman is afraid. The people in the village gossip when a woman who has no relations sets up a tanning vat. They ask questions. They have ideas. It is never good to attract the interest of your neighbors.”

“That is true,” said Nia.

“I was not willing to give up hunting. I didn’t want to become a crazy man. I came into the village on dark nights. I stopped my boat under houses. I listened to the women talking. No one heard me. No one saw me. I am good at what I do.

“I learned that something had happened to the brothers of Tanajin. They had stopped coming to her house. She had nothing to tan. I decided to visit her.” Ulzai got up and lifted the vines at the entrance to the cave. Water dripped off the leaves. I looked out and saw rain.

“I am getting tired of telling this story. It goes on and on. Maybe silence is better.”

“Stop if you want,” said Nia.

I kept my mouth shut, though I wanted to hear the rest of the story. Derek frowned.

“I will finish,” Ulzai said. He sat down. “I left a skin. The next time the moon was full, I came again. She had put gifts outside her door. Food and a jar of beer and a knife. The hilt was black wood inlaid with silver. It wasn’t the right size for my hand.”

I made the gesture that indicated sympathy or regret.

“After that I came at every full moon. I brought her many skins. They were large and in good condition. She gave many away. But I did not hear the women sing in praise of her. And I did not always like the gifts she gave me.

“She gave me sandals made of lizard skin. They were too small. She gave me fabric for a kilt. It was dark green, covered with red and yellow embroidery. Most men would have liked it. But I like things that are plain.”

“Why?” asked the oracle.

“It’s the way I am.” He paused. “There is nothing handsome about me. There never has been. I got this when I was a child.” He touched the white fur on his face. “I fell off the platform of my mother’s house. A lizard got me. There are usually a few under the houses in the village. They are never big. The umazido not live on garbage. But at the time the lizard seemed big enough to me. I shouted when it bit me. My mother dove in with a knife. She killed the lizard—and I was left with this.” He touched his face a second time. “And this.” He touched the white fur on his leg.

Nia said, “That must have been an experience.”

Ulzai made the gesture of agreement. “Give me the beer.”

I handed him the jar. He drank. “I decided to talk with Tanajin. But not in the village. I was afraid the old women would find out. I heard them talking on top of their platforms. They were like mothers hunting for vermin in the hair of their children. They hunted for bad ideas. They wanted to know something bad about Tanajin. I did not know why.

“I waited until the time of mating. I hid in the reeds near her house. When she left to go into the marshes, I went after her.

“I found her, but I wasn’t the first one. There was a man with her. I confronted him. He became angry. We fought. I beat him, though it wasn’t easy. He ran off into the marshes, and I spoke to Tanajin. I showed her the size of my feet and hands. I told her what kind of cloth I liked. I told her I always used the kind of spear that has a barbed head.”

“Did you mate with her?” asked Derek.

Ulzai made the gesture of affirmation. “But nothing came of the mating. She had no child. That was the first mistake I made.”

“What?” asked Derek. “The mating?”

Ulzai frowned. “No. Following her. Talking with her. Before that, she had been nothing. A shadow in the shadows of the house. Now she became something. A person. I knew what she looked like. I knew the sound of her voice. At times, when I was in the marsh or sitting on the platform in front of her house, I thought of her. I opened my mouth. I thought of speaking. Then I bit my tongue.” He stood up again. “The rain is stopping. I am going out.” He pushed through the vines.

“Interesting,” said Derek in English. “How hard it is to maintain the barriers between people.”

“You think so?” I said.

“Maybe I mean the opposite. Ulzai is right. It’s time for a walk.”

He left. I looked at Nia. Her dark face was expressionless.

“The world is full of strange people,” said the oracle. “And stories which I never expected to hear. Maybe that is why my spirit told me to travel. I am going to drink more beer.”

I decided to go out.

Ulzai was right about the rain. It had stopped. In the west, beyond the river, the clouds were beginning to break apart. I glanced around. Derek and Ulzai were out of sight. I walked along the cliff until I found a place where I could climb. Up I went until I was high enough to see across the valley.

Winding channels. Islands. Marsh. The forest on the far side of the river. Rays of sunlight slanted between the clouds. Where they touched the forest, it was bright green or yellow.

The wind was cool and smelled of wet vegetation. I sat down and leaned against a rock. A flock of birds wheeled over the river. There must have been two or three hundred of them. They were too far away to be visible as anything except dots. I wondered what they were doing. Getting ready to fly south? I had seen birds do that on Earth. They flocked together and flew around, practicing migrating. Then one day—in October or November—one noticed that they were gone.

Well, hell, it couldn’t be easy—flying south. I could understand why they had to practice. The birds in front of me flew off. I sat a while longer, then went back down the cliff.

Derek came up from the river. He carried a fishing rod and a string of fish. They were small, at least in comparison to the fish he’d caught the day before, with round, fat bodies and bright yellow bellies.

“I hope they’re edible,” he said.

We returned to the cave, and Derek held up the string. “How are these?”

“Delicious,” said Nia. “But they are not easy to clean. I will do it. You might ruin them.”

“Be my visitor,” said Derek.

Nia frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Go ahead.”

She cleaned the fish, and we roasted them. Ulzai came back. When he lifted the vines, sunlight came in. The sky in back of him was clear and bright.

“Are you going to finish your story?” asked Derek.

“Yes.” He let the vines drop. We were back in shadow. “But first I will eat. Did you catch these?”

Derek made the gesture of affirmation.

“Your pole is good for something.”

Derek made the gesture of gratitude.

Ulzai ate and drank the rest of the beer. He belched. “There isn’t much left to the story. I brought more skins to Tanajin. The gifts she gave me were better than before. I hunted for her all summer. She gave away many skins. But the women did not praise her generosity. Or if they did, it was grudgingly. I heard them. They said, ‘What right did she have to be prosperous, a woman with no relatives?’

“Winter came. It was warmer than usual. Few lizards came down the river from the north. The umaziwere hungry. The hunger made them irritable, and they were more willing to fight. Men died, and other men gave up. They hunted fish instead of the umazi.I kept on. I brought my skins into the village when the moon was full. I never failed.” He lifted his head. I could see his pride.

“Tanajin was generous. I have said that before. She continued to give away skins. At night, when the moon was dark, I came into the village to listen.”