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The sun was already announcing its ascent into the eastern sky with shades of pink and gray when First Rider rode his pony in close to the Blackfoot Pikuni tribe where they were encamped along with the other bands of the Blackfeet, there upon the Two Medicine River.

In the distance, First Rider saw a young boy slowly walking out onto the plains, the youngster most likely rounding up his family's ponies.

The boy, upon coming in closer to him, gasped and, without speaking a word to him, immediately turned around and ran back to camp. First Rider heard the boy shouting "He is returned! He is returned! Medicine man, First Rider is returned!"

Almost at once, many people spilled out from their lodges, and, pulling on their clothing as they moved forward, they began running toward him, first amongst them his almost-cousin, Stands Strong, and Stands Strong's white wife, Czanna.

They were both laughing and smiling as they raced in his direction, and, as soon as Stands Strong came in close to him, Stands Strong pulled him from his horse and greeted him with a bear hug and a kiss on his cheek.

Czanna, running a little behind her husband, caught First Rider next in one of the biggest hugs he could remember receiving from her, and she kissed him on both cheeks before she let him go.

Running fast behind Stands Strong were First Rider's parents, Chief-chases-the-enemy and his mother, Little Dove; his almost-mother, Morning Sun Woman; all his brothers and his almost-brothers; his sisters and his almost-sisters; as well as his almost-brother and friend, Red Fox.

Then, scattered out behind them hurried his uncle, Eagle Heart; Eagle Heart's wife, Laylah, and their children; as well as his almost-uncles, Gray Falcon and Strikes Fast; and their white wives, Amelia and Sharon, who were trailed by all of their children.

More of his almost-uncles and almost-aunts were coming fast on their heels, each and every one of them appearing determined to welcome First Rider with more hugs and kisses.

The questions came at him furiously.

"Where have you been?"

"Will you be staying?"

"Here, let me take your pony and brush him down."

"Come to my lodge for a smoke."

"Have you eaten? Come to my lodge and eat a good meal!"

He couldn't remember a time when he had laughed so heartily as he was whisked from one embrace to the other.

Then his male relatives literally picked him up and, carrying him above them, brought him into camp.

Their women were happily chatting and following along behind the men, while one of the youngsters in the group took hold of First Rider's horse and led the animal to its mates in First Rider's pony herd.

The men carried First Rider to his almost-father's lodge first, and the entire entourage piled into and around the lodge, the bottom tepee flaps pulled up so all could see inside and hear what was said.

The women quickly brought in the choicest of meats and roots for their first meal of the day, and soon the sweet scent of food surrounded him.

Happiness, indeed, practically burst from the lodge of his almost-father, Chief-chases-the-enemy.

First Rider found he could barely take a bite of the aromatic and delicious-smelling food since it seemed every person gathered around asked questions of him, the inquiries coming at him from all directions.

As he laughed and joked with the others, his cares, at least for the moment, fell away from him.

Requests for one story after another kept him busy talking until, at last, Chief Flying Hawk, father of Tsistsaki, came into Chief Chases-the-enemy's lodge, taking a seat close to the tepee's entrance.

A quiet suddenly fell over the people assembled both in and out of the lodge; they appeared to be waiting for what the chief might say, since the chief's daughter, Tsistsaki, had not returned with First Rider.

Into the quiet, the chief asked, "Has my daughter returned with you, my son-in-law?"

First Rider glanced at his father-in-law, and what smiles he had been sharing with the others quickly died upon his countenance. He barely knew how to respond.

Squaring back his shoulders, he took a deep breath and said, "I fear my woman has not returned with me, Father-in-law.

I wish I were not the one to have to bear this sad news to you.

But, I will tell you the story of what happened to her, and I will recount it as the kindly Assiniboine scout told it to me. "

Not a single sound was heard in the Pikuni camp as First Rider began, "I have long been on the trail of the enemy, as you know.

I have been looking for my woman in many of the enemy camps, including the Crows, the Lakotas, the Cheyennes and the Crees…

even in the Assiniboine camp. But, never did I find her.

"It was only two moons ago when an Assiniboine scout and I met together in peace.

It was from this scout that I learned what had happened to Tsistsaki.

She had been bought from her Crow captor by an Assiniboine warrior of merit, the man having fallen in love with her at first sight.

He made her his wife and they lived happily together.

"But, three months ago Tsistsaki took ill with a white man's disease. No medicine man amongst the Assiniboine could heal her, though her husband sought out every one of these men, giving each one many ponies. He did this, despite that by doing so, he would make himself a very poor man.

"Still, none of these medicine men could heal Tsistsaki, and she died there in their camp. Her Assiniboine husband loved her so greatly, he took his own life to follow her into the Sand Hills, to live there with her in the world of shadows."

No one spoke, and it seemed to First Rider as if the very birds in the air shared in Chief Flying Hawk's grief, for there was no sound to be heard in the surrounding camp, not even the gentle murmur of the wind blowing against the people's lodges.

At first the old man nodded, but then he took up his blanket and placed it over his head, hiding his face as the sounds of his grief filled the lodge. In a like manner, First Rider brought up his own robe and drew it over his head, his tears accompanying the sounds of the chief's cries.

The old man left soon after learning of his daughter's fate. And, the next day First Rider was disconcerted to learn the old man and his wife had taken up all their possessions and had left camp to journey into the hills, there, where they would cry and mourn over the loss of their daughter.

As one day passed into the next, First Rider's happiness in returning to his people fled, and, finding himself grieving once more, he felt himself to be unfit company for others. And so, he pitched a lodge of his own, close to, but at a distance from the rest of the camp.

Though his good friend, Stands Strong, as well as his seventeen year old almost-brother, Red Fox, accompanied him on the hunt most every day, First Rider found his appetite had fled. And, soon he lost much weight.

"Come stay in my lodge," Stands Strong said to him as they took their morning baths in a cold stream, icy from the surrounding mountain's summer melt.

Though it was early in the morning on this day in the Moon of Flowers (early summer), and, though the temperature of the water caused goosebumps to accumulate upon First Rider's arms, the coldness meant little to him.

In truth, from a very young age, all males in camp—young and old—bathed early in the morning, regardless of weather, hot or cold.

No hunter would even think of beginning his hunt without first washing away his man scent.

"You have grieved enough," said Stands Strong after a short pause. "Please come now and stay in my lodge."

First Rider's response was to say, "I fear I have not yet spent all of my sorrow. I failed my wife and her father and mother."

Stands Strong didn't answer; although, as soon as their baths were finished and they were dressing, he murmured, "Sun, the Creator, spoke to me in my dream last night and told me to tell you that your period of grief is over.

What happened is sad, yes. But, the Creator wishes you to live your life.

"Now, I plead you again," Stands Strong continued. "Come to my lodge. I have spoken to my woman about this, and she agrees with me; our family will gladly welcome you to our lodge."

Because his almost-cousin's invitation mirrored the words of those of his Big-Person almost-mother's, First Rider accepted his friend's invitation and, disassembling his small lodge, moved his quarters into Stands Strong's home.

Yet, it was not an easy time for him. He had been too long alone upon the trail these last four winters to be thrust so quickly into the company of others. But, as the warmth in the Moon of Home Days fell upon the land, his grief gradually subsided, if only a little.

And, though happiness still escaped him, he at least tried to imitate a man of easy laughter. But, alas, it was a facade; he still felt like the shell of a man instead of a living soul.

However, though this day had started out like any other, on this particular morning came a sudden spark of joy.

Because of the Pikuni tribe's need to obtain more guns, ammunition and blankets from the white man, they had moved their village south, setting up camp within an easy trading distance from Fort Benton, though it was still a day's ride away.

And, shortly after their camp had been pitched, a white man's letter arrived in the encampment; it was addressed to First Rider.

Although he could not read the white man's scratches, Stands Strong's woman, Czanna, could do so, and she gladly translated the letter's words to him: