on the pipe.

The sight of beads of blood on his father's lips horrified White Bear.
He took a corner of Pierre's blanket and wiped away the bright red
drops. Then he took the pipe from his father's hands.

Grieving for the freedom he was giving up, he pulled the hot smoke in
till it filled his mouth. He let its bitterness sink into his tongue as
bitterness sank into his heart--the realization that this promise would
cut him off forever from Redbird, from Sun Woman, from Owl Carver, from
the life he longed to return to. He let the smoke out with a long sigh
and laid the pipe down. He felt as if his life was over.

But he felt some relief, too, because he was no longer torn by
indecision. Now Pierre and he were content to talk of small things--how
full the corn bins were this year, what White Bear had seen and heard in
New York City, whether it would rain again tomorrow.

Pierre's voice grew softer and softer, and gradually he drifted off to
sleep. His grip on White Bear's hand was still strong. White Bear let
his head rest against the tree trunk and returned to a favorite
childhood pastime, trying to see animal shapes in the clouds.

He was not surprised when the Bear appeared at his side. The huge head,
covered with fur white as the clouds, pushed past him, poking its black
nose into Pierre's shoulder. Somehow White Bear knew that Pierre would
feel no fear when he awoke, even though he had never seen the Bear
before.

Pierre's eyes opened, and he looked up at the Bear and, as White Bear
had expected, only sighed and smiled.

"Eh bien, je suis content." And Pierre got to his feet as easily as if
he had never been sick.

Pierre did not say good-bye, but White Bear had not expected him to.
They had said their good-byes already. White Bear remained where he was,
sitting with his back to the maple tree.

With his left hand lifted to rest on the high hump at the Bear's
shoulder, Pierre walked down the slope. White Bear saw, rising from the
rim of the hill, the arc of a rainbow.

Pierre walked the rainbow path with the long, vigorous stride of a young
man. The Bear accompanied him with a rolling gait, looking like the
biggest dog that ever lived walking beside a hunter. White Bear smiled
to watch them.

They climbed the archway of color that leaped out over the Great River
until at last they disappeared in the dazzling disk of the sun.

White Bear's head fell back against the bark of the tree, and he closed
his