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uffering sigh. 'A miracle is a

divinely-inspired event that transcends the known physical laws thought

to govern the universe -' He broke off. 'But then you don't know about

"divine" either. You don't accept any of that stuff."

'You mean like Mo-Town, the Sky Voices and Talisman? That's not quite

true. I've escaped death so many times I'm beginning to think that

perhaps some power/s watching over me." He saw the look of cynical

disbelief. 'I mean that."

'Wonders never cease."

'Okay, you've told me you don't like the D'Troit but you still haven't

really explained why the Plainfolk is so divided. Night-Fever told me

that even the She-Kargo clans fight each other."

'It's a long story, Brickman. And it all happened a long, long time

ago. If we're both round this winter, stop by the hut one night.

We'll share a mat and a pipe and I'll tell you about it."

'Why not now?" insisted Steve.

'I've got other things on my mind."

'Like what?"

'Rifles..."

'What's the problem?"

Mr Snow gestured wearily. 'The clan elders don't think we should take

them." He proceeded to give Steve an account of the debate - at times

heated - that had been taking place between the senior members of the

M'Call delegation who formed the trade council. It was they who were

the final arbiters on the various deals struck with the Iron Masters.

They also attempted to agree on standard rates of exchange with the

trade councils from the other clans - no easy task when each sought to

out-bargain the others.

The most vociferous opposition had come from those who saw acceptance

of the rifle as a further erosion of the Plainfolk tradition of

bravery. Mr Snow saw the merit in this argument but believed that

change was inevitable. The Old Ways must go. If not, the Plainfolk

would perish. The traditionalists had replied that if the Old Ways

were abandoned, if valour became worthless, then the great tree that

was the Plainfolk would wither and die from shame. Clan-brother would

be parted from clan-sister like yellowing leaves before the wind,

scattered across the face of the earth and ground into dust. If they

did not adhere to the Great Truths, argued the die-hards, the essential

values by which a man measured himself and by which their society was

defined, then they would deserve to be swept into oblivion.

The trade council was also reluctant to accept the new weapons for a

more practical reason. To do so would further increase their

dependence on the Iron Masters.

The bolts that came with the crossbows were, to a large extent,

recoverable, the stock remaining more or less constant. But this would

not be the case with the new 'long sharp iron'. Once it had passed

through the barrel, the 'iron finger' could not be used again. Only

the Iron Masters were able to fill it with sky-fire and supply the

ribbons containing the beads of flame. If the rifle was allowed to

become an essential part of the Plainfolk's armoury they would be

forever in the grip of the Iron Masters, forced to trade whatever the

price. With the numbers of red-skins falling rapidly, it would mean

sending more and more clan-brothers and sisters down river?Having

suffered heavy losses last year against The Lady from Louisiana, this

was something the M'Calls were reluctant to do. It was an almost

insoluble dilemma, for if the Plainfolk did not acquire more powerful

weapons, they would be faced with even more disastrous losses when the

iron snakes returned in greater numbers.

'So how do things stand now?" asked Steve.

'They're still arguing. I left them to it. I went through all this

nonsense twelve years ago when YamaShita turned up with the first

crossbows. Everyone predicted that the sky would fall in but, as you

can see, we're still here."

'This may come as a surprise but I understand how they feel. Only

warriors who have chewed bone are allowed to use crossbows in combat

and then only against sand-burrowers. And you have to be physically

strong just to be able to arm the damn thing. But with a rifle ?.

all it takes is one finger. A child of seven or eight could be taught

how to use one - to kill grown men.

You've seen the range it has. If he was a good shot, you wouldn't see

him and you'd never know what hit you."

'Exactly. That's how the Old Time ended. Those who unleashed the War