e rebuilt, the
wealth and what he could do with it. If he turned his back on that, he
would stunt the rest of his life with regret and longing.

He said, "It's not suicide. I'm risking my life, yes. But if I don't try
to right the wrong that has been done to me, life will not be worth
living."

Davis sighed. "A man has to stand up for what he believes in, even if it
looks like a lost cause. I guess that's what you and Black Hawk and all
your people have been doing all along."

Now that Auguste was committed, fear came back. He'd have to face
Raoul's men, dozens of them, alone. Even the Bear spirit could not give
him the strength and skill to do that.

There must be a way to meet Raoul alone. Ambush him? But that way, even
if he succeeded in killing Raoul, the town and Raoul's friends would
never accept him as master of Victoire.

The man he'd just met, Andrew Jackson, was well known as a duelist. In
his years at Victoire Auguste had heard more than once of Raoul meeting
men in single combat. Pierre and Elysee had spoken with disgust of
Raoul's dozen or more killings.

A duel. That would be the way to do it. If he succeeded in killing Raoul
in a duel, no one would try to stop him from retaking Victoire. With
Raoul gone, his men would be leaderless.

Of course, Raoul had killed many men and Auguste had killed none. But
the Bear spirit would fight on Auguste's side. And if he failed, he
would rather die fighting for what was rightfully his than spend his
life drinking the bitter water of defeat.

A few days before he left Fort Monroe, Auguste persuaded Davis to let
him be allowed to walk on the parade ground at the same time as Owl
Carver. A sadness came over him at the sight of the old shaman, a gray
army blanket thrown over his shoulders despite the warmth of the day,
walking with stiff steps across the grass. The heavy-lidded eyes did not
light up with recognition until Auguste came close to him.

Then Owl Carver took both Auguste's hands in his, and Auguste noticed
something he had never seen before. The sudden realization awed him.

_His eyes look so much like those of the Turtle!_

Wondering how Owl Carver would think of what he was doing, he told him,
"I am going back to the pale eyes' town. Back to Star Arrow's home. I
mean to try to take back the land from my uncle."

Owl Carver closed those ancient eyes. He spoke after a moment's
hesitation, and when he did his voice frightened Auguste. It was the