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He felt ravenously hungry watching the two men chew their beef. He himself had not had time to eat.
Black Hawk's strong hand stroked the leather cover of one of the law books he had captured at Old Man's Creek.
"You healed my son and drew spirit silver from his body," Black Hawk said. "Accept my thanks."
"I am happy to have made Black Hawk happy."
Black Hawk gestured toward the beef. "Share my food."
White Bear picked up a strip of meat, still hot. Saliva seemed to flood his mouth. He chewed ferociously, closing his eyes for an instant in pleasure. Black Hawk smiled slightly, while Flying Cloud, paying no attention to White Bear, gnawed on a rib.
After a time during which White Bear could think of nothing but the hot, juicy meat, Black Hawk called him back to his reason for coming here.
"I am told you have a pale eyes woman prisoner."
"I came to speak to you about her," White Bear said, and silently asked his spirit self to help him persuade Black Hawk to let her go.
He told Black Hawk how he had convinced the people not to kill her.
"You did well," said Black Hawk. "We must make the long knives respect us, not just fear us. Warriors should not torture and kill prisoners.
The great Shooting Star would never let his men torture prisoners."
White Bear felt a glow of pleasure at Black Hawk's approval. He felt more hopeful that Black Hawk might listen to him. He decided to plunge ahead with his request.
"If we give this woman back to the pale eyes, maybe they will talk peace with us."
The Winnebago Prophet stopped eating long enough to say, "Better to keep her. If the long knives attack us we can threaten to kill her."
Aware that Flying Cloud's argument made a kind of brutal sense, White Bear felt a sinking in his chest.
Black Hawk pursed his wide mouth thoughtfully. "The Prophet speaks wisely. It is foolish to give the woman to the long knives as a gift. We should hold her until we are ready to trade her for something." He turned his sombre gaze on White Bear. "You must keep her. You must not let her escape."
White Bear now had to go back to tell Nancy that the Sauk would not let her go. The thought of her terror and misery made him sick with sorrow for her.
And afraid for her too. Every day that the Sauk suffered hunger and illness, every time more men were killed, the women would want all the more to hurt the one pale eyes who was in their power. And the men would hunger to take pleasure with her fair-haired beauty. He could not guard her at every moment. How, then, could he keep her safe?
They sat in silence again. The Winnebago Prophet looked pleased with himself. Black Hawk was grim, probably brooding over how badly the war was progressing.
Desperate to protect Nancy, White Bear could think of only one way.
He said, "I want to make the pale eyes woman my wife."
Black Hawk's eyebrows rose. "Why should White Bear do that?"
"The people will not kill the wife of a shaman."
The Winnebago Prophet burst out, "This is wrong! The spirits have told me that our people must not mate with the pale eyes."
Black Hawk said, "White Bear's father was a pale eyes."
"The offspring of an impure mating should not be a shaman," Flying Cloud grumbled.
White Bear felt his cheeks burn; the Winnebago Prophet might as well have slapped him.
He remembered, so long ago it now seemed, though it was really only nine months, when Pere Isaac, speaking at Pierre's funeral, had called White Bear "the fruit of sin." He had thought then that no red man would speak so demeaningly of his parentage, and here now was a shaman of the red men who did.
Black Hawk said, "White Bear has always been one of us. He has seen visions. He has saved many lives. The mark of the Bear, one of the most powerful spirits, is on him. Let him do as he thinks best."
The Prophet said, "The spirits have told me a man should not have more than one wife."
Black Hawk glared at him. "That is foolish talk. I have been content to have one wife, Singing Bird. But my son, Wolf Paw, has two wives, and many of our chiefs and braves have two or three wives. And when many men die in battle, many women need to be cared for."
Flying Cloud grunted and fell silent.
White Bear took his leave of Black Hawk and threaded his way among the shelters and past the small campfires where beef was still roasting on spits.
Redbird must agree to his plan before he could tell it to Nancy. He was afraid; afraid that she would say no, and afraid that his request would hurt her.
When he reached his wickiup he called Redbird out, and they walked through the camp together.
"Sun Woman is with the yellow-haired woman in the wickiup," Redbird said. "Sun Woman speaks to her in the pale eyes' language that she learned from your father. I think the yellow-hair is not so frightened anymore."
"That is good," said White Bear gloomily, "because Black Hawk says she must remain a prisoner."
Redbird sighed. "I feared he would say that."
They climbed a low hill north of the camp and sat on a huge half-buried boulder overlooking a small lake. A newly risen crescent moon was reflected in the still black water.
White Bear put his hand on Redbird's belly and felt the movement of the child within her.
Redbird said, "What is this woman to you?"
White Bear stiffened. Would she understand? Would she believe him?
White Bear searched his mind for a way to explain. "She was a friend to me when I lived at Victor."
"Was she your woman?" Redbird asked.
"No. She wanted to be, but I would not let it happen, because I knew that one day I must leave her."
_And I feared that if I let myself love Nancy I would never return to my people, and to you._
"You did not even lie with her?"
"No."
"I would be foolish to believe that."