look at that face.

Auguste and Dr. Surrey had both carefully examined the body and could
find no cause of death. Surrey opined that Raoul had gone mad hiding in
the mine and had been frightened to death by his own hallucinations.

Auguste knew what had killed Raoul. He vividly remembered his wanderings
in the other world, in that endless prairie, with Redbird.

Auguste could only imagine what the encounter between Raoul and the
White Bear had been like. It had taken place in the other world. The
White Bear spirit must have attacked and destroyed Raoul's soul--if a
soul could be destroyed. Like the men on spirit journeys who died
because their souls never returned to their bodies, Raoul's body had
been deprived of life. The White Bear could leave its mark in this world
when it chose, but usually it left tangible signs as a mark of favor.
This time the only mark it had left was that look of terror on Raoul's
dead face.

And Auguste had paid the price for having sent the White Bear against
Raoul: he had lost Redbird.

_For the rest of my life I will never see a cardinal without my heart
breaking all over again._

They would bury Raoul, with a mass, in the little cemetery overlooking
the river, just like any other member of the de Marion family. There
would be no revenge after death. Pere Isaac was coming up from Kaskaskia
to officiate.

_And I'm afraid it will not be long before Grandpapa lies down to rest
not far from Raoul._

Even as Auguste had begun to get out of bed and walk about, Elysee
seemed to be spending more and more time sleeping. One day, Auguste
expected, he would simply not wake up at all. Though he mourned in
expectation of the old man's passing, it was with a warm feeling that
Elysee had done much, had walked a long trail with honor. It was now
right that his spirit move on and his body return to the earth.

_I am thinking like a Sauk._

And then it all swept over him in a wave of anguish. He saw the
happiness he had lost. He saw the gardens and long houses of Saukenuk,
cool and pleasant in the summer, the snow-covered, warm winter wickiups
in Ioway. The hunting and fishing, the feasts, the dances. The beloved
faces drew close before his eyes--Sun Woman, Floating Lily, Eagle
Feather, Owl Carver, Black Hawk.

Redbird.

He gave an agonized shout that reverberated in the stone chimney that
towered over him. He beat his chest with his fist again and again, until
a bolt of pain shot through h