Roots_ The Saga of an American Family - Alex Haley [70]
She didn’t say a word about it, of course, but Kunta knew he had made his point. He was no longer a boy, and it was time for her to stop acting like his mother. He felt it was his own responsibility to change her in that regard. It wasn’t something to speak to Omoro about, for Kunta knew he couldn’t put himself into the ridiculous position of asking Omoro’s advice on how to make Binta respect her son the same as she did her husband. Kunta thought about discussing his problem with Nyo Boto, but changed his mind when he recalled how peculiarly she had acted toward him upon his return from manhood training.
So Kunta kept his own counsel, and before long he decided not to go any more into Binta’s hut, where he had lived most of his life. And when Binta brought his meals, he would sit stiffly silent while she set his food on the mat before him and left without speaking or even looking at him. Kunta finally began thinking seriously of seeking out some new eating arrangement. Most of the other new young men still ate from their mothers’ kitchens, but some were cooked for by an older sister or a sister-in-law. If Binta got any worse, Kunta told himself, he was going to find some other woman to cook for him—perhaps the widow who had given him the woven basket. He knew without asking that she would gladly cook for him—and yet Kunta didn’t want to let her know that he was even considering such a thing. In the meantime, he and his mother continued to meet at mealtimes—and to act as if they didn’t even see each other.
Early one morning, returning from a night of sentry duty out in the groundnut fields, Kunta saw hurrying along the trail some distance ahead of him three young men whom he could tell were about his own age, and whom he knew had to be travelers from somewhere else. Shouting until they turned around, he went running to meet and greet them. They told Kunta they were from the village of Barra, a day and a night of walking from Juffure, and they were on their way to hunt for gold. They were of the Feloop tribe, which was a branch of Mandinka, but he had to listen carefully to understand them, as they did to understand him. It made Kunta remember his visit with his father to his uncle’s new village, where he couldn’t understand what some people were saying, although they lived only two or three days away from Juffure.
Kunta was intrigued by the trip the young men were taking. He thought it might also interest some of his friends, so he asked the young men to stop in his village for a day of hospitality before they went on. But they graciously refused the invitation, saying that they had to reach the place where the gold could be panned by the third afternoon of travel. “But why don’t you come along with us?” one of the young men asked Kunta.
Never having dreamed of such a thing, Kunta was so taken aback that he found himself saying no, telling them that as much as he appreciated the offer, he had much work to do on his farm, as well as other duties. And the three young men expressed their regret. “If you should change your mind, please join us,” one said. And they got down on their knees and drew in the dust to show Kunta where the gold-hunting place was located—about two days and nights of travel beyond Juffure. The father of one of the boys, a traveling musician, had told them where it was.
Kunta walked along talking with his newfound friends until they came to where the travelers’ trail forked. After the three men took the fork that led on past Juffure—and turned to wave back at him—Kunta walked