as he looked
down at the body.

White Bear heard the click of a flintlock hammer being drawn back to
full-cock. Wolf Paw sighted along the barrel.

The militiaman raised his head, and White Bear saw tears glistening in
the morning sun as they ran down his cheeks.

White Bear knew this man.

A gaunt brown face with strong bones, deep-set gray eyes, a young face
aged by grief. In White Bear's vision of last winter this man had a
black beard; now he was clean-shaven. But this was the man the Turtle
had shown him.

A sudden shout from the woods made both White Bear and Wolf Paw jump
with surprise.

"Help! Help me, please!"

White Bear saw Otto Wegner stagger from the trees about a hundred feet
to his right. He was trying to run toward the tall man.

He limped badly and let out an "Oh!" of pain with every step.

The tall man set his hat back on his head and ran toward the Prussian,
who fell forward on his face in the grass a short distance from the edge
of the woods.

Wolf Paw swung the rifle toward Otto, but before he could fire, Otto
fell and was almost obscured by the tall grass. The blue-black rifle
barrel lifted toward the man going to his aid. White Bear heard Wolf Paw
draw a deep breath through his nostrils and saw his finger tighten on
the trigger.

Even as the hammer fell and the spark set the powder sizzling in the
pan, White Bear thrust his hand out. In the instant between the pulling
of the trigger and the firing of the rifle White Bear pushed the barrel
off target.

The rifle went off with a boom and a flash and a puff of blue smoke.

The lanky man jerked his head around and stared into the trees where
Wolf Paw and White Bear sat hidden on their horses. He shouted and
pointed. The long knives spread out between the creek and the woods
brought their rifles to their shoulders. Some of them jumped on their
horses.

"_Why did you do that?_" Wolf Paw shouted. It no longer mattered that
the long knives could hear him.

He raised his rifle as if to hit White Bear with the butt end, as Eli
Greenglove had done many moons ago.

"Come on," said White Bear, ignoring the threat and kicking his horse's
sides to start him galloping through the woods. Wolf Paw, who had no
time to reload, thundered behind him, uttering shouts of inarticulate
rage.

White Bear was certain Wolf Paw would strike at him with rifle butt or
tomahawk or knife before they cleared the woods, but Wolf Paw was wholly
bent now on e