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"Well now, folks, are you lost or are you comin' up the mountain to see me and the missus?"

Early in the morning on their twenty-second day into the Bears Paw Mountains, they were met by these words from a man who looked more bearlike than human being. Czanna stared at the man in awe, but with misgivings. Was he friend or foe?

As her husband had been teaching her, if the man made a move against them, should she shoot to kill? She didn't move, though she was ready for action if it were to come, and she brought her rifle up against her breast, ready to use.

Looking outward at the man, it was difficult to determine his height since the hat he wore looked to be more wolf-like than hat and it stood perhaps twelve centimeters—about four inches—above his head. A long white beard covered his lower face, the sides of his face and his upper lip. However, what she saw was not a well-groomed beard, and she feared there might be creatures living within it. Bushy gray eyebrows completed his "look," and his shirt appeared to be made from tanned buckskin. The sleeves of it were fringed with buckskin, and all down each sleeve were rows of white, red, blue and yellow beads as well as equally colorful triangles.

Surely, this had been done in the style of the Plains Indian. But, was he friend or foe?

The man wore trousers made of buckskin, and these were fringed, as well, and beaded much like his shirt. His moccasins came well up to his knees and were perhaps made in two parts.

"Oki Isstamo, Hello, brother-in-law," said Black Beaver to the man. Then, continuing in Blackfeet, he said, "As you can see, I have brought friends of yours to visit with you."

"Oki napi," said Stands Strong, and then in English, "We have, indeed, come visiting."

"Have you, now? Good to see you, Black Beaver, and it's Stands Strong, isn't it?"

Stands Strong nodded.

"Women. White women," said the oldster. "You've brought white women up into these mountains? And, here I thought my woman was lying when she told me there were two white women in your party."

Could this be her cousin? If it were her cousin, he didn't look the Hungarian aristocrat at all. He appeared to be quite rugged, old and unkempt.

"Cousin Alfred, is that you?" asked Czanna in the Hungarian tongue.

The man turned his attention onto Czanna and stared at her as though he were looking at a ghost.

"Who are you?" he asked in English. "We don't speak Hungarian around these parts."

"I think I am your cousin, Czanna Fehér, and this"—she pointed to George—"is cousin Gyorgy Fehér, although we call him, George."

George, doing as Stands Strong had done, merely nodded.

Meanwhile, Czanna continued to speak to the man, and she said in English, "Cousin Alfred, we bring you greetings from home."

"Well, I'll be tongue-tied to a bear's tooth. Cousin Czanna, I haven't seen you since you were only this high." He indicated the height with his hand next to his waist. Cousin Gyorgy, you were a mere baby last time I saw you. And, here was I unbelievin' of my woman. Well, come this way. All of you. Come this way. We aren't far from my homestead. Just over the next ridge. Won't my woman be happy to see you all, and especially you, Black Beaver. I was planning to come a visitin' next summer. But, now's as good a time as any."

The way to his home was not long and was an easy trip for both Czanna and Liliann, if only because the snow had all melted and the land was dry at present. Peeping up here and there from the soft ground were beautiful wild flowers of purple, blue and yellow, and the short grass was as green as any she'd ever seen. Indeed, it was spring even up here in the mountains.

The trail to her cousin's cabin cut through a heavy and perhaps overgrown pine tree forest. It was a narrow trail, and it was dark because the trees, reaching upward to the sky, hid the sun. But, Czanna felt safe, if only because the men—and there were now six of them—were all heavily armed with shotgun and bow and arrows, as well as knives of all different sorts and shapes. And, her cousin carried an axe as well as shotgun.

As they neared the end of the forest, Czanna saw what looked to be a small cabin in a clearing directly in front of them. Somewhat surprised to be looking at a white man's log cabin instead of a tepee, she yet felt pleasantly inclined toward it. The small house, looking as though it were made from logs plastered together with mud or river clay, gave her the impression of it being a haven against the wildness of the mountain landscape. There was smoke shooting upward from a chimney, and the scent of the fire and smoke was quite pleasing and welcoming, making the end of their long trek akin to coming home.

Standing in front of the cabin was an Indian woman dressed in a mix of cotton clothing as well as buckskin. Her hair was braided, and even from this distance Czanna could see the woman's features were agreeable.

Czanna drew in a deep breath. She had accomplished what had seemed impossible; she had found her cousin. Now it only remained for her to take Cousin Alfred aside and present him with the family treasure, as well as the letter from her brother.

No sooner had they all dismounted than Cousin Alfred was introducing them, one and all, to his wife, Pretty Ribbon Woman, who, smiling at each one in turn, invited them to come into her home. All accepted the invitation except Stands Strong and First Rider, who both graciously volunteered to see to the care of their horses. But first, without saying a word to Stands Strong, Czanna untied a bag she had earlier fastened to her mount.

When Stands Strong looked at her curiously, she gave him a smile, hoping he would understand: she had a gift and a message for her cousin, but it was for her cousin, alone. The promise she had given to her brother forbade her, despite Stands Strong being her husband, from telling him the entire purpose of her mission.

In open Pikuni hospitality, they were all treated to food and drink, consisting of fire-roasted buffalo ribs as well as the delicacy of tongue. Berry soup completed the meal. And, while Black Beaver and his sister traded stories with one another, and with Stands Strong and First Rider engaged in speaking to one another, Cousin Alfred sought out Czanna and regaled her with tales of his adventures in the Backbone-of-the-World Mountains, and why he and his woman had moved their home to the Bears Paw Mountains.

"But," he said, "I reckon you haven't come all this way to listen to me talk. I figure you have some news for me from home."

"I do," said Czanna. "Although I am hoping to speak to you privately. You see, we—my brother, myself and my baby sister—have, like you, fled from Hungary. Both my mother and father, as well as my older brother, stayed behind to try to clear my father's name and his part in the revolution. Is there a place where I might speak to you privately? You see, I have a message and a letter to give to you from my brother, as well as a gift."

Cousin Alfred nodded. "Come with me outside. I fear it is the only place where we might speak privately."

"Yes. Please," replied Czanna.

As both she and her cousin came to stand to their feet, Stands Strong sent her another inquisitive glance, and she, in turn, smiled at him. How she would like to invite him to join them outside, but she could not do it. Frederic had, after all, solicited her promise to give this message and the gifts to no one else but her cousin.

As soon as they stepped foot outside, Alfred led her to a place next to the corral where he kept his animals. Placing a foot atop the bottom log of the corral, he asked, "Is this private enough for you?"

"It is, indeed," said Czanna. "Let me begin by telling you how honored I am to give to you a gift my brother bid me to bring to you, and you alone. This"—Czanna reached into the bag she had taken off her horse earlier and took out an object from it, then presented it to her cousin—"is part of the treasure our family holds. I am to give it to you."

Alfred—or Old Tom Johnson, as he was known to the Blackfeet—stared at the object as though it were more of an encumbrance than what it was: their family's coat of arms. Red, white, green and blue colors of the sky, as well as the bright-brown stone of a castle glittered from their highly polished golden setting upon a rectangular wooden bed.

"Then, this means…"

"I fear it is true, Cousin. My father and mother, along with my brother, were arrested, tried and hung. Before my brother's death, he bade me to find you and give this to you, along with this letter."

Reaching once more into her bag, she pulled out the letter she had carried between sheets of wood for safekeeping all this time; it was tied with ribbons. For well over a year, she had bore these treasures somewhere on her person or in their wagon. Truly, it was with a great deal of relief to at last turn them over into the safekeeping of Cousin Alfred.

"Come here, gal," said Cousin Alfred as he brought her into his arms to hug her. "Bless you for bringing them to me."

As they stood there embraced, Czanna said, "It has been my pleasure, as well as my duty, to do so."

At last, Alfred took her by the shoulders and said, "Do you know what is in this letter?"

"Some of it, I think," she answered. "My brother told me to give it to you and said, also, that you would help me and the rest of our family to find a safe place in this western frontier…to perhaps purchase land, if possible."

"It does, indeed, say this. Are you married to that young fella back in the cabin? The one who is watchin' over you?"

She nodded. "I am," she answered. "I would never have found you if not for his ready assistance to me and to the rest of our family."

"And, do you love him?"

"I do," Czanna answered. "Very much."

"Then," said Alfred, "you are as well set as any to survive in this country. But, things, they are changin'. It would be well if I keep an eye out for land being placed on sale. It would be pure thievery of Blackfeet land, mind you, but times, they are changin', and there be those who will take what is not theirs to take. In the last year, since the treaty with the Blackfeet and the other northern tribes, we are seein' more and more of the white man come into this land, and he is of a kin we have never seen here before. He is a man who would steal and kill without nary a thought. Yep, things, they are changin', and so I will do as your brother has bid me to do. I will keep an ear and an eye out for property goin' on sale for you and the rest of your family."

"I…I thank you, Cousin Alfred. I thank you very much."

He nodded, and, placing an arm around her shoulders, he led her back to the cabin.

****

Most of the tribe had already moved away from Fort Benton, heading in a northerly direction toward a beautiful plain, there to perform their ceremonies to Sun for the renewal of their life upon these plains. When Stands Strong's small party—which now included his wife's cousin, Old Tom Johnson, and Tom's woman—arrived back at the fort, all that remained of the large Pikuni encampment was a small band consisting of only ten tepees.

How barren the plains looked without the thousands of his people's beautifully painted tepees encamped around the fort. And, how dull was the fort without the colorful camps of his people to brighten it.

His woman, Matsowá'p, said, "I miss the thousands of lodges all set up and surrounding the fort. It does not look the same. Indeed, it appears to me as though the fort, without the Indian villages, is little more than a blot upon the land."

"áa, it does," agreed Stands Strong. "Without my people here, the land is barren. Yet, it is not all bad. The steamship brings many items to trade. Did you see there is another steamboat arrived here? It will be bringing more guns, blankets and other necessary things we will need before we join our relatives in the north. I only hope it will not be carrying more of the gold seekers. Come, your cousin and I have decided to go into the fort to see what supplies the boat brings. Your cousin has many furs to trade."

And, so it was that their party made their bid to enter the fort on this balmy day in early summer.

****

The trading room was not crowded on this day. In truth, there were only a few other people within the trading room when their party—the six men and two women—stepped foot into its chambers. Since this was the first time Stands Strong had brought his woman inside the fort and its trading room, he wondered how she might look at the place after being within the Pikuni camp. Would she compare it to the graceful Pikuni lodges? And, if she did, which would be the prettier of the two?

As he looked around the room, Stands Strong saw the many buffalo robes which were thrown over the trading table, and, gazing beyond it to the shelves behind the counter, he glanced over the many different items of trade: the striped woolen blankets, the rugs and cooking utensils, as well as the pots and pans. There were several different buckskin jackets hung on antlers at the corners of the room. At one far end of the small room was a fireplace, and, at present, a cheery fire was lit within it. Guns, knives, ammunition and paints were also amply displayed on the shelves behind the trading table, and at the corner of the table were beads of all colors, awls, needles and thread.

While he and the other men bartered for guns and ammunition, the women crowded around the sparkling colors of the beads, as well as the cups and saucers, and the pots and kettles.

"I think this is the fort they were to come to."

Stands Strong heard a male voice say these words in English, the sound of the words used similar to the manner in which his wife spoke, but he thought little of it until his wife grabbed hold of his arm and whispered, "Did you hear that man's accent?"

"A little," he replied.

"Well, it sounds…it sounds a lot like—"

"A lot like?"

"No, never mind. It couldn't be."

But, when the man continued to speak, her grip upon his sleeve increased, and she said, "It sounds…it sounds like…no it couldn't be."

Stands Strong frowned and looked toward the three white people—two men and one woman. But, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he turned away while Matsowá'p again caught hold of his sleeve. She said, "I…I…have heard that voice before, and yet…."

Suddenly, the woman laughed and turned toward one of the men, her profile showing her to be an older woman, but not too elderly. It was then when he heard his wife gasp.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I…I…" Matsowá'p's eyes were wide, and her face turned suddenly white as though she were staring at a ghost.

Matsowá'p's voice was a mere whisper when she asked one of the men, "Frederic? Is it you? Mother? Father?"

Mother? Father? thought Stands Strong. But, weren't they dead?

As though in complete unison, all three people turned to glance at his wife, and, looking down upon her, Stands Strong could see she could barely speak. Yet, she managed to ask, "Is it you, truly? Frederic? Mother? Father?"

"Czanna!"

Then, all at once, Stands Strong's world seemed to spin as Czanna and the three strangers ran toward each other. And, as he looked on, he saw his wife collapse into the three strangers' embraces. George, he noticed, joined the foursome with a wide grin upon his countenance. And, as Stands Strong stepped back to give the five people more room to talk, he heard the one woman with the group say, "Czanna! Gyorgy! I cannot believe it is really you. We have looked for you everywhere!"

"But, I thought you were… I thought you were… I received a letter… I was given to believe you were no longer alive!" Matsowá'p said. "But, here you are! I cannot believe what I am seeing! You are here! You are here!"

By this time, not one of them, not even George nor Matsowá'p's father's eyes, were dry.

"But, here I am, forgetting my manners." Turning, Matsowá'p reached out to Stands Strong. Taking his hand into her own, she brought him forward to stand beside her. She said, "Frederic, Mother, Father, let me introduce you to my husband, Stands Strong."

Matsowá'p's father reached out his hand to shake Stands Strong's, and, at his woman's urging, Stands Strong took the man's hand, feeling a firm grip there.

"Oh my, Czanna! You have married!" It was his woman's mother speaking. "Welcome to our family, young man. Welcome!"

Stands Strong nodded.

"Oh, you're not getting away with that. Come here!"

And, Stands Strong allowed himself to be pulled into the older woman's embrace while she planted a kiss on each of his cheeks. He wasn't certain he was supposed to return the same, but he found himself kissing both of her cheeks anyway.

"And, that man over there," Matsowá'p said as she gestured toward a corner of the room, "is my husband's friend, First Rider."

First Rider nodded.

"And, this mountain man you see here is our own Cousin Alfred. Do you see? I found him, Frederic! I found Alfred, our cousin."

"You did it, Czanna! You have done what I thought was impossible!"

"Yes, but it was not I who found him; it was my husband who discovered where he was and brought all of us there. But, please let me continue. Beside our cousin Alfred is his Pikuni wife, Pretty Ribbon Woman, and standing there beside her is her brother, Black Beaver. You know, of course, Mr. Henrik and Miss Liliann, who are standing next to First Rider. First Rider is the man who saved Mr. Henrik's life with his medicine man's treatment, when Mr. Henrik had suffered an injury that would have otherwise taken his life."

"I thank you, Mr. First Rider," said the elder man. "Mr. Henrik has been with our family for so many years, he is almost like one of us."

When Stands Strong translated what his father-in-law had said, First Rider smiled, but only a little.

"Oh my, you are here!" Matsowá'p said. "You are alive, and you are here! Oh, I am so happy!" Matsowá'p then turned to Stands Strong. "Oh, what am I to do, my husband? I did not know this kind of happiness would ever be mine. Oh, what am I to do?"

Leaning down toward his wife, Stands Strong whispered, "Perhaps you could invite them to our lodge. We should have a great celebration, and then there should be much talk."

"Yes, yes, of course," she replied. Then, turning toward Frederic and her parents, she asked, "Won't you all please come to our lodge, where we may speak of the many stories we have to share? Come, follow us. Oh, what a grand night this will be."