hot,
and moisture-laden gray clouds lay overhead. Auguste longed for the
drier climate of Illinois.

Pale eyes and many of their black-skinned slaves stood under the poplar
trees lining the sides of the avenue. They waved cheerfully to Black
Hawk and clapped their hands. From time to time Black Hawk raised a hand
in solemn greeting.

Auguste had expected that they would have to endure jeers and cries of
hatred when they were paraded through Washington City. But,
surprisingly, people were welcoming them as if they were heroes. It gave
him a feeling of hope. His people might learn to live with these people.

Auguste was awed by the size of the President's House, three or four
times bigger than Victoire. It stood behind an iron fence at the western
end of Pennsylvania Avenue. All this for the Great Father, thought
Auguste. It seemed all the more impressive because the entire building
was painted white.

Among the Sauk, colors always meant something. Auguste asked Jefferson
Davis, who had ridden with their mounted escort, what the white of the
President's House meant.

Davis smiled wryly. "Why, that's to hide the scorch marks from where the
redcoats burned it in 1814."

But how fitting it seemed that the Great Father of the white people
should live in a white palace. Auguste felt a tingle of excitement as
the blue-coated officers ushered his party up the front steps.

Owl Carver stuck his hand into a pocket of his jacket and pulled out the
gold watch that had once been Pierre de Marion's. He smiled, toothless,
at Auguste.

"You told me I could use this to tell when the pale eyes will do things.
See now. One of the long knife chiefs told me this." He pointed to the
face of the watch. "When the long arrow is here and the short arrow is
here, we will meet with Sharp Knife." He had pointed to the numerals XII
and XI--eleven o'clock in the morning.

They awaited Sharp Knife in the East Room of the President's House. An
officer told the four Sauk to stand abreast, with Black Hawk at the
right end of their line and Auguste on the left. The arrangement told
Auguste that the long knives considered him the least important member
of the Sauk delegation, an estimate with which he agreed. A dozen long
knife colonels, majors, captains, lieutenants, all in blue jackets and
gold braid, stood in two groups flanking the Sauk.

Even though he had never had any reason to doubt his shaman's vision,
Auguste was surprised at how exac