ar's, his head was unshaved, his hair
long.

But as he came closer through the white tree trunks, a hand raised in
greeting, she saw he was not White Bear. His full head of hair had a
brave's feathers tied into it. A Winnebago. She saw a second rider
behind him. An attack? But they were approaching slowly, their hands
empty.

The Winnebago dismounted and led his pony till he was standing over
them.

He wore four red and white feathers, one hanging from each silver
earring, two tied into his hair. A leader of warriors. Heart pounding,
she moved protectively closer to the lean-to where Eagle Feather lay.
Owl Carver slowly got to his feet. She glanced at him, and when she saw
how grim his face was, her own terror increased.

Another Winnebago rode out of the woods, dismounted and stood beside his
companion.

The first man turned to take something from his saddle.

Scooping Floating Lily up in her arms, Redbird leaped up to give the
alarm. The brave held out a restraining hand.

"Wait! We are two only, and we come to talk peace." The man spoke Sauk.

He faced her, smiling tentatively, and held up a beautiful calumet, its
red pipestone bowl gleaming in the sunset, its polished hickory stem as
long as a man's arm.

Owl Carver drew himself up in all his white-haired shaman's majesty.
"Who are you?"

"I am called Wave," said the man holding the calumet. "This is He Who
Lights the Water. He does not speak Sauk."

Redbird glanced down into the lean-to, to make sure Eagle Feather was
all right.

"Who is in the lean-to?" Wave asked a little suspiciously as He Who
Lights the Water stepped forward to look in.

"My grandson," said Owl Carver. "He is sick."

"Many of you must be sick. And hungry," said Wave. "Time your leaders
took pity on the women and children and ended this war."

More Sauk men and women were coming over now to see the newcomers. The
two Winnebago were men of courage, Redbird thought, coming alone as they
had into a camp of fifty or more desperate people.

Redbird's mother came to stand beside Owl Carver. She asked what was
wrong with Eagle Feather, and Owl Carver explained in a whisper.

"Children will eat anything they can get their hands on," Wind Bends
Grass scolded. "Now he will probably grow up to be a madman." Redbird
held back a shriek of rage.

Black Hawk and the Winnebago Prophet strode through the gathering crowd
to face the newcomers. Black Hawk carried under one arm one of those