mrades had died. Why not just lie here
and wait for the long knives to come back and kill him?

But he thought of Redbird and Eagle Feather. And the fullness that had
appeared in Redbird's belly before they crossed the Great River from
Ioway to Illinois. Using his knees and elbows to push himself through
the grass, he began to crawl.

Slithering like a snake, his body and limbs flat to the ground, he
wriggled along the edge of the creek till he felt sure any men that
might be nearby could not see him; then he slid down the embankment. The
side of his head throbbed with every movement.

He crossed the creek on all fours, the rocks biting into his palms and
knees. Where the swift, cold water was deepest he lowered his head into
the water to wash it. Agony exploded in his brain and he came close to
fainting. But he forced the muscles of his neck to raise his head, and
his arms and legs to push him along, out of the creek.

Soon he was in the shelter of the woods. He stood up and staggered
through the shrubbery. Now that he was safer, the pain in his torn right
ear pounded harder than ever.

He remembered that Raoul and his hundreds of mounted long knives had
ridden toward the place where Black Hawk, with only forty braves, was
waiting to learn how his peace emissaries fared.

He had stayed alive so far by luck, but he had no real hope of escaping
to his people. Probably some of the long knives who had ridden out with
Raoul would come across him, and that would be the end. As he neared the
farther edge of the woods, a newly risen half-moon, like a white wickiup
in a black field, shone at him through the trees ahead.

He was about to step out on the prairie when he heard the rumble of
hooves coming toward him. He stopped in the shelter of the trees. He
heard shots, screams of pain and terror.

Against the lighter prairie grass, men on horseback were dark shapes
rushing at him from the horizon.

Their voices were high-pitched, fearful. They were crying out in
English.

"Make a stand in the woods!"

"No! There's too many of them!"

"Just keep a-running. Follow the river."

White Bear looked about for a hiding place. The moon showed him that he
was standing beside a big old oak, with branches low enough for him to
jump to.

_Grandfather Oak, will you shelter me?_

Just before he jumped for a branch he noticed that a hollow had rotted
out in the base of the tree. It was big enough for him to hide in, but
then