arion, the United States is not a thief." A fierce glare lit
Jackson's eyes.

_I must try to be bold without being rude._

"I meant no insult, Mr. President. The red man _thinks_ his land is
being stolen from him."

Jackson frowned at Auguste as if he was not sure whether he was being
sarcastic, and, indeed, hearing his own words, Auguste was not quite
sure how he meant them.

"Exactly," Jackson said. "The red man doesn't understand what is
happening. You can help to see that this _must_ be."

Auguste hesitated. He had not had time to think. He was not ready to
decide his whole future and perhaps bargain away the future of his
people in a moment. Staying here in Washington City just might be the
best thing he could do for the Sauk. Working for and with Jackson, he
could protect his people, warn them of danger, avert attacks on them.

But his choosing to refuse Jackson was not the outcome of a momentary
impulse. His whole life had taken him to this place on his path. The
path might wind; its direction might sometimes be lost in shadows. But
it did not lead to Sharp Knife. Jackson was a far better man than Raoul,
but they were both on the same side, the side of the dispossessors.

"What the red men don't understand, Mr. President, is how much they are
giving up."

"Black Hawk said land can't be bought and sold," Jackson said. "Then it
belongs to whoever can make the best use of it."

Each man owning his own land and defending it against all comers,
thought Auguste, that was the centerpost of the white way of life.

"I understand that you feel a responsibility to your people, to provide
them with land," Auguste said. "But whether it is legal or illegal, just
or unjust, I can't help you to move my people or any other red people
off the land they are living on."

Jackson's face seemed to sharpen. "You could have done much for Indians
by working for me. I'm surprised that a man of your intelligence and
education would prefer running around in the woods wearing a loincloth."

Auguste was reminded of Nancy's words, _hunting and living in wigwams_.

Jackson reached into an inner pocket of his black jacket and took out a
pair of spectacles. To Auguste they looked somewhat like Pierre's.
Auguste thought with sorrow of Sun Woman and wondered what had happened
to the spectacles he had given her. Jackson bent forward and picked up a
sheet of paper from one of the piles on his desk.

"Ask one of the soldiers in the nex