the scab, so that
the cloth came away easily from the wound, which was between Wolf Paw's
left armpit and his collarbone. Its shape surprised White Bear: not a
round bullet hole, but a long, narrow gash, surrounded by bruised and
swollen flesh.

"How did this happen to you?" he asked. He was going to have to hurt
Wolf Paw all the more because the wound had gone untreated for four
days.

"When the braves attacked the blockhouse all together at the end of the
day, the pale eyes opened the door and fired a big gun."

White Bear desperately wanted to make Wolf Paw tell him everything that
had happened, but there was no time for that now. And after he heard
Wolf Paw's tale, he might want to hurt him even more than he had to.

Raoul kept a naval six-pounder at the trading post; White Bear had heard
about it. Probably this was a piece of what the long knives called
canister shot or grapeshot in Wolf Paw's shoulder. But then why not a
round hole?

White Bear slid the steel rod he would use to explore Wolf Paw's wound
through a loop in the end of the tongs. To see how the brave was taking
it, he looked up at his face. Wolf Paw stared back at him with hard
black eyes as he pushed the probe into the wound with one hand, the
other holding the handles of the tongs. When the rounded tip of the
probe had gone in about half a finger's length, it touched something
hard. Not a bone, White Bear was sure. He moved the probe up and down
and from side to side. The only sign of pain Wolf Paw gave was deeper,
heavier breathing.

How odd! The object was definitely flat and must have hit Wolf Paw edge
on. It lay buried in a muscle. An inch higher and whatever it was would
have broken Wolf Paw's shoulder. White Bear moved the tongs into
position within the torn flesh, one end on each side of the flat object.
His hand ached as he tightened his grip on the tongs. He had learned how
to get a good grip on bullets, but the blood would make this flat
missile slippery.

Wolf Paw was not breathing now. White Bear did not dare to look into his
face. For both of them, White Bear understood, this was a moment of
testing.

Holding his own breath, praying to Earthmaker to strengthen his grip on
the tongs, White Bear began to pull.

Wolf Paw gave the faintest groan. Another man would probably be
screaming.

The flat piece of metal came almost to the surface of Wolf Paw's
blackened flesh, but slid out of the tongs' grip just as White Bear was
abo