ent of Prairie du Chien and the long knives' Fort
Crawford.

When the sun was high over the river, White Bear heard a sound that sent
fear rustling down his back--the drawn-out shouts of long knife leaders
calling orders. The cries came from somewhere to the south.

With horror, he saw it at once in his mind: One long knife army coming
from the east. Now another marching up from the south. Both heading for
the mouth of the Bad Axe where the people were trying desperately to get
across the river.

A little later he heard the rumble of many hooves.

He wanted to turn and gallop back to warn the band. They had no notion
that this second army, much closer to them, was coming.

Nancy said, "You'd better leave us here. They'll shoot at you."

Fear for himself and for his people tempted him to agree, but he firmly
shook his head.

"I must stay with you until I'm sure you're safe. It is a matter only of
minutes."

Soon White Bear glimpsed the Stars and Stripes fluttering among distant
trees and the noon sun glittering on brass buttons. Federal troops. At a
clear spot on the trail, where Nancy and Woodrow would be visible from a
distance, he called a halt.

"You two stay on the trail. Nancy, pull your braids around to the front
so they can see your blond hair. Woodrow, take that headband off. You
want to make sure they see that you're white. Just hold your horses
still, and when you see the first soldiers, raise your hands above your
heads. And call out to them in English."

_Oh, Earthmaker, keep them safe._ This was the best he could do for
them.

Nancy kissed him hard on the mouth.

"I love you so much," she said, her voice breaking. "And I know I'll
never see you again. Go on, get away from here!"

White Bear led his horse back into the woods between the river and the
bluffs. He tied the horse and then crept back through the shrubbery to
watch Nancy and Woodrow.

Terrified by the thought that he might see them shot down before his
eyes by careless soldiers, he held his breath.

He heard hoofbeats approaching at the gallop.

He heard Nancy cry, "Help us, please! We're white people!"

_Good._

Two men wearing tall, cylindrical black shakoes and blue jackets with
white crossbelts rode up to Nancy and Woodrow, who lowered their hands.
After a brief conversation, all four rode off down the trail.

In a burst of relief, White Bear let his breath out. For a moment he
could not move, so limp had his fear for