t room to help you find the rest of
your party."

* * * * *

A few days later Jefferson Davis came to see Auguste in his new room, a
small wedge-shaped chamber in one of the towers of Fort Monroe.

"I see they've moved you," said Davis with a smile.

Auguste nodded. "I believe President Jackson prefers that I no longer
associate with Black Hawk and his party."

"Seems so," Davis said. "President Jackson plans to send Chief Black
Hawk and Owl Carver and the Prophet on a tour of our big cities.
Jackson's up for reelection next month. And, of course, he wants Black
Hawk to see at first hand what he's up against. The President has made
it clear that you are not to go along."

Auguste shrugged. "He offered me a position. I refused."

A smile warmed Davis's pale, gaunt face. "People don't ordinarily say no
to the President of the United States. Well, you'll go home all the
sooner. Black Hawk and the others won't get back to the Sauk reservation
in Ioway till sometime next year. But I'm leaving tomorrow to rejoin
Zachary Taylor's command at Fort Crawford, and I'm to take you with me,
to return you to your people."

Auguste did not answer. He sat down heavily on his bed, which he had
pulled next to the one small window in his room, overlooking the strait
called Hampton Roads.

Did he want to go back to his people? He remembered a thought that had
come to him while talking with Andrew Jackson. Each man owning his own
land. That was the key to the white way of life.

But he longed to see Redbird and Eagle Feather again. Were they well or
sick? He wanted to hold Redbird in his arms, mourn Floating Lily with
her. That wonderful story he had heard from Owl Carver about Eagle
Feather and the calumet--he wanted to tell Eagle Feather he had done
well.

But, go back to the Sauk? He knew now, especially after talking to
Jackson, what the future of the Sauk would be. Never to see the Great
River again. To lose their land bit by bit. To be confined to a tract of
land in Ioway far smaller than the territory they'd formerly ranged
over. Not permitted to hunt where they wished. Might have to beg food
from an Indian agent, as Jackson had said. They would not choose their
own chiefs as they always had, but would have chiefs picked for them by
the whites, men like He Who Moves Alertly, who knew how to use both the
pale eyes and their own people to advance themselves. A miserable life,
a prison life, a