the
sheets of bark that lined the inside of the wickiup. But tonight her
mind was too absorbed in Gray Cloud's fate to try to read the patterns.

Over the breathing of the others she could hear the voice of the wind
humming across the roof. From time to time it would rise to a howl, and
the framework of the wickiup would creak and crackle under the strain.
Even though there was a fire and the wickiup was tightly sealed, Redbird
felt the cold seeping up from the earth. Its icy fingers touched her
body through the buffalo robe. Her dread for Gray Cloud turned to
heart-pounding panic.

_If I feel the cold, here in my warm wickiup, what must it be like for
him?_

After the snow stopped falling, the cold of this night would be the cold
that killed without mercy. Such a deepening cold often seemed to follow
a great snow. After a night like this, women would find rabbit and deer
lying in the drifts near the camp. The animals trying to get close to
warmth had overcome their fear of people, but the cold had leeched the
life from their bodies. Even the strongest animals might die. Only
people, to whom Earthmaker had given the knowledge of how to shelter
themselves and make fire, could withstand this death-dealing cold.

Her fists clenched on the blanket. Her heart filled up with anger. Anger
against the cold, against her mother, who despised Gray Cloud, against
Owl Carver, who had sent him to almost certain death. Against the
spirits, who had permitted this. Out of her anger blazed up a fierce
resolve.

_I will not let you take him from me._

If everyone else accepted Gray Cloud's death, she did not. She would go
to him. She would go to Sun Woman and gather what medicines she might
have, anything that would keep the cold from draining the last bit of
warmth and strength out of Gray Cloud.

_Have you not been told what the tribe decrees for anyone who disturbs a
man on a spirit journey, even to help him?_

Her anger turned to fear, and she lay there, not wanting to move,
knowing that if she threw off the blankets and stood up, she would be
taking the first step on a path that might be her death.

But then she thought of that terrible wind, sharp as a pale eyes' steel
knife, shrieking around Gray Cloud's body. If she did something now, he
might live; and if she did nothing, he was sure to die.

She had loved Gray Cloud for as long as she could remember. To be
without him--she could not bear to think of it.

She had h