Now!"

_How graceful all her movements are._

The rock was gray and somewhat larger than her fist. It had sharp,
irregular edges and looked as if it had been used to chip arrowheads.

He said, "You would not be this angry at me if you did not want me back.
Why did you refuse every man who asked for you?"

Her face twisted with rage, she threw the rock.

For an instant he was blinded as it hit his cheek, stunning him, and his
head snapped back.

He felt a pounding pain in the back of his skull as his vision cleared.
The ache from being hit with a rifle butt had come back.

He heard gasps of dismay from some of the watching women, laughter from
others.

Wind Bends Grass called out scornfully, "I am ashamed to call this fool
my daughter. I cast her out of my lodge because she would accept no
suitors. At last comes the one who ruined her for all the others, and
she drives him away with a rock. I think we should throw rocks at her."

The crowd's laughter was louder, although White Bear saw that Wind Bends
Grass did not mean to be funny.

His left cheekbone throbbed, the cheek Raoul's knife had scarred, and he
felt a trickle of blood. But he would not let himself lift his hand to
wipe it away.

Redbird's hand went up to her own face, as if the rock had hit her. Her
slanting eyes widened with a look of horror.

She whirled and ducked through her dark doorway.

"Go in there after her, White Bear!" one of the women called.

He would not do that. He would not go into her wickiup until she invited
him. And in spite of the heaviness in his heart, in spite of the ache in
his cheekbone and the pounding in his head, he believed that sooner or
later invite him she would.

He turned his back on the empty doorway and sat down again.

The blue-eyed, brown-skinned boy was standing before him. A golden glow
filled White Bear's chest.

"You are hurt," said the boy.

"It is nothing, Eagle Feather. A man must endure pain without
complaint."

"Did my mother do that to you?"

"She wanted to punish me for staying away from you and her for so long.
My name is White Bear."

"I know what your name is."

When he heard that, he was sure that he would win her back.

The boy darted around him.

Resting his hands on his knees, White Bear closed his eyes and let his
mind dwell on a vast white-furred shape. Owl Carver had said that when a
man wished to send his spirit on a journey in the other world, he need
only think of hi