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Me own dearest friend, First Rider, I beg thee to please come to me own quarters where I be staying at Fort Benton.

I plead with thee to come quickly. Me own daughter has been injured and has need of thee to help her.

Me own self begs thee to hurry. I offer thee all me own horses, including a fast buffalo runner, if thee will but hurry here.

After reading the contents of the letter, Czanna said, "I can hardly believe it.

My friend Liliann is injured. I and my husband would go with you, but I cannot, since the chiefs have banned all of us Pikuni women—even we few white women—from entering into the fort.

But, you will take my husband with you, will you not? And, you will go at once?"

" áa ," First Rider answered in the Blackfeet tongue.

"I will ask my almost-cousin, your husband, to accompany me.

I will seek out my almost-brother, Red Fox, and will bid him to make the journey with us, also.

Though he is young, he is a good warrior and scout.

Do not fear. I will suggest we should leave… this very night."

" Soka'pii, good," said Czanna, offering the letter back to him. "Please do hurry. I do not wish Liliann to suffer."

" áa , soka'pii , yes, good," First Rider responded, and, accepting the letter back in hand, he set out at once to ask his friends to accompany him; they readily accepted.

Then, returning to his quarters, he packed up several different kinds of herbs, his medicine drum and mallet, his newly made medicine pipe, as well as other objects required in the profession of a medicine man. He would leave this very night.

As he gathered together his healing medicines and separated them into different tiny bags, he brought up the image in his mind of Otahki , Ermine Woman, recalling the pretty child from four winters ago who had become like an almost-sister to him.

She had only been a youngster of fourteen or fifteen snows then.

Would she have changed very much in these last several winters?

"Liliann" was what the white man called her. But, to First Rider, he would always know her as Otahki , Ermine Woman.

He had chosen the name because of the color of Otahki's yellow hair; it was so pale it looked almost white, resembling the winter fur of the ermine. And, Woman, because…well, all Pikuni women's names ended in "Woman."

Their friendship was an odd one, they having become connected to one another spiritually by combining their individual powers in a song, the powerful song of his Big-Person mother.

He remembered now how it had been when he and his friend, Stands Strong, had been encamped on Sacagawea Springs four winters ago.

Otahki's father, Henrik, had been shot in the chest by a wicked gold-seeking white man, and, when First Rider had discovered Henrik's plight, the man had been near to death.

First Rider and Stands Strong, knowing of no other means to heal the man, had brought him to the curative waters of Sacagawea Springs, along with his young daughter, Otahki, and Czanna, who was Stands Strong's intended at the time.

But, Otahki had been a problem to First Rider then because she'd been keeping a vigil, there in the water, by her father's side.

The reason she had been a hindrance to him was because First Rider's medicine required no one else to be present when he used his skill, and he had needed every bit of his skills.

There was a bullet lodged in Henrik's breast.

First Rider hesitated to approach the girl to ask her to leave, since he knew from experience that she didn't speak the Plains sign language, nor did she understand the Pikuni tongue. And, his own knowledge of English was poor, at best.

Yet, the time was at hand when he needed to test his medicine to see if he could remove the bullet from the man without the need of poking him or letting the white man cut him open. He would try to speak to the girl.

To this end, he found himself slipping into the small pool, and, coming up behind the yellow-haired girl and tapping her lightly on the shoulder, he tried to communicate by means of sign language what he required of her.

But, she didn't understand, and she merely shook her head.

However, since First Rider required the girl to give up her vigil for a while, he tried to communicate once more, his hand motions a little slower.

He had to bring her to understand she must leave and allow him to work his skills as a medicine man.

The young girl, however, merely shrugged her shoulders.

He smiled at her and tried to communicate with her in a different way, adding a little of the English language he knew, and, as he signed, he said, "I…medicine man. Must…come out … bullet. You…leave. Medicine man…try…heal."

"I cannot leave me own father," she murmured softly. "How do I know thou will not try to kill him?"

It took First Rider a little time to understand her words, but at last he did, and he said, "He…live. Not…kill. Try…heal."

She began, then, to cry. Again she shook her head.

However, First Rider didn't give up trying, at least not yet.

He offered his hand to the girl, palm up.

When she didn't take it, he slowly took her hand and placed it in his own.

Then, looking down into her deep, blue eyes, he said, "Must…

try…bullet…to get. You"—he pointed with his finger to a place close to the springs, yet far enough away so he might do his work—"there… sit. You…watch."

She bit her lip. "Thou will not cut him open?"

"I…not," First Rider answered. Still holding her hand, he said, "Here, come. I…take you…good…sitting…place."

She nodded.

At last, gaining her agreement, First Rider helped her up onto the edge of the springs and, patting her hand, again grinned at her. He said, "No…talk…no…come…between. Watch…only."

Again she nodded.

And, seeing it, First Rider turned back toward the girl's father.

First Rider had already been praying to Sun, the Creator, to heal the man, having taken on the duty as a medicine man because the white man's daughter had begged him to save her father's life. But, now he needed to pray again and ask for the Creator's help.

And so, coming up to stand on a slight ledge at the shoreline of the springs, he took a puff of smoke from his pipe, then blew it up to the Creator, then down to the ground, and lastly, to the four directions of the world, asking for the Creator's help, begging Sun, the Creator, to have pity upon him, as well as upon the man, Henrik.

Once First Rider's prayers were finished, he left his best eagle's feather there on the ledge as a sacrifice to the Creator.

Though he had only attained the age of twenty-and-three snows, First Rider had long been known to be a healer to his people. Even as a child he had possessed the "power."

It was said he had attained this healing touch from the Big People.

He had been told by his mother and his almost-father, Chief Chases-the-enemy, about how, when only three winters in age, he had been taken by his Big-Person mother and had been in company with her for many moons before his almost-father and his birth mother had been able to rescue him.

Because the Big People—in particular, the women of this tribe—were sacred to the Creator, He had passed along the healing touch to the women of the Big People tribe.

Long had the medicine men in First Rider's tribe recognized the Big People's power to heal.

So, all the chiefs of his tribe, as well as the older medicine men, had assumed the Big Person, a female, had somehow bestowed some of her power upon First Rider, though he had been little more than a baby of three snows.

Although First Rider often spoke to his Big-Person mother in the mind-speak, he didn't recall how he had obtained the power of healing.

He only knew it was he who, even as a child, had often been called upon by the medicine men to heal others when all else had failed.

He had so far in his young life been successful, and thus had garnered him a good reputation as a medicine man.

And, although he had the "gift" of being able to take objects from within a person's body, he rarely used the skill.

It wasn't usually required of him to call it into practice.

And, indeed, he wasn't certain exactly how he was able to do it, except for the song …

he knew the song given to him by his Big-Person mother was important.

But, now the man Henrik required First Rider to use this faculty tonight because the bullet was lodged into the man's breastbone, thus it was situated too close to his heart, and if not removed, the man would likely die.

Although First Rider made it a practice to not attend to an injured person while another looked on, this one time he would allow the girl to remain.

Upon touching the white girl's hand, he had become convinced she not only would not interfere, but she would aid him in some way, though he was uncertain how she might bring this about.

And so he began. Beating his sacred drum, he sang the medicine song given to him in his long-ago past. He didn't remember too much more than the song which had come to him naturally upon his first attempt to heal another.

The song's rhythm was somewhat similar to the regular beat of other medicine men's songs, but the chant was particularly different and strange.

The notes, though in rhythm, were misaligned, were high and then low, and even the words First Rider used he didn't understand, they being grunts and groans.

He only knew that whatever they meant, they were sacred.