Page 3

The early morning sun shone down its warmth upon the back of her head as Czanna strode north and west across the treeless prairie, returning to the site of the wagon train. Gazing forward, she studied the brown grassy hill as it rose up gently from the flat plains and stretched out for many kilometers in front of her. Just over the knoll there, she knew she would find the wagon train.

A scent of smoke still lingered in the dry morning air, even at this distance of perhaps a mere kilometer, around a half of a mile. Czanna grimaced and pinched herself; she had to remember to calculate distances in miles instead of kilometers here in the American West.

She rolled her shoulders, relieving some of the stress in her muscles, if only a little. What, in the name of the good Lord, was she to tell the others?

Carefully, she retrieved the letter she had tucked within the bodice of her gown last night. Was it only the previous evening when a man, recently come up from the fort, had given it to her? For a reason she didn't understand, it seemed as if a lifetime had passed since then and now.

Sighing, she glanced down and scanned the letter's contents again before bringing it in close to her and holding it against her chest, handling the paper as though it were a person. Gently, she folded the letter and placed it back into its position against her heart.

The letter—written by her brother's manservant, Mr. Sebestyn—represented her only contact with the world she had once known. But, oh, what terrible news it brought.

Climbing up to the top of the hill, she looked forward, expecting to see the wagon train lazily positioned in a circle, there under the early morning sunlight. But, where was it?

Czanna felt a rush of anxiety flood over her as she quickly scanned the horizon in every direction. It was as though by her look alone she willed the caravan to suddenly appear.

But, it was not to be.

Fear engulfed her as she gazed down upon only one wagon, it appearing to be alone and vulnerable as it stood upon the vast, green-and-brown grassland. At least it was her wagon, thank the good Lord. But, where were the other seven prairie schooners?

What has happened here, and where is my family? Czanna thought.

As alarm swept through her, she picked up her skirts and ran down the hill. As she came in closer to her own coach, she could at last see her two siblings as well as Lilike, Mr. Henrik's daughter, who had become Czanna's maid. Lilike was holding Czanna's baby sister, Béla, on her right hip and was standing next to Gyorgy, Czanna's brother, who had only recently turned twelve years old.

Oddly, Czanna noted how tall Gyorgy had become since beginning this journey. Why, he was almost as tall as Lilike.

At present, they were huddled in the back of the wagon's shadow; this would account for why Czanna hadn't been able to see them at a quick glance. But, at least she could see them now, thank the good Lord.

But, what had happened? And, where was Lilike's father, Mr. Henrik?

As if her thoughts alone had produced him, big and bulky Mr. Henrik jumped down from the seat of the wagon and trod away from the front of it. As he looked up at Czanna, he lifted his hat and greeted her, saying, "Mistress Czanna, happy I am to see thee. I have been worried about what might have happened to thee."

"Thank you, Mr. Henrik," replied Czanna. "I am sorry if I caused you any grief. I…I simply needed to be alone for a while. But, where are the other wagons? Why are they not here?"

"They all be gone, Mistress. Thine own family and me-self are the only folk left here, alone upon this vast land, and, afeared though I be to tell it to thee, ye and me have some trouble."

"Trouble? Please, Mr. Henrik, come walk with me for a moment and tell me what has happened in my absence." Quickly, Czanna glanced at her siblings and her maidservant, greeting them, too, by saying, "I am happy to see you all, but please allow Mr. Henrik and me to speak to one another."

Gyorgy and Lilike nodded. It was Lilike who whispered, "I am so very happy to see you, Mistress."

"And I, you. Please give your father and me a moment so he might tell me what has happened here."

Lilike nodded.

Czanna felt as though she were spinning in all directions at once, though, of course, she stood up straight and without moving.

How did this happen so quickly? Czanna thought. I left upon my lonely walk last evening—only hours ago.

Once she and Mr. Henrik were out of earshot, Czanna said, "Now, please tell me what has occurred here."

"'Tis the gold seekers, Mistress. They came up from the fort late in the evening last night and joined us; they were carrin' tales of gold and were braggin' of goin' to the gold mining fields. 'Twould not be so bad exceptin' for the scout, Mr. Hanson, the man I had hired to take us north into the Glacier Mountains. He has gone with them gold seekers now and has left us stranded; but, worse, he has taken with him all the silver I gave him when he agreed to the task."

Czanna frowned, momentarily speechless. Briefly, she recalled Frederic's words to her before she and the rest of their siblings had been forced to flee Hungary:

"I am trusting you—not Henrik—to hire a guide to take you to our cousin in the mountains."

But, she had met Hanson, had talked with him and had even approved of Mr. Henrik's choice. It was, therefore, as much her fault as it was Mr. Henrik's.

Straightening her shoulders, Czanna glanced up at Mr. Henrik's sunburned face and murmured, "I heard it said, when we were at Fort Benton, that the gold fever is a fearsome disease."

"'Tis true, Mistress Fehér, and worse. 'Twould appear the fervor came upon all our companions last night. Whiskey flowed freely, and I became afeared at what might happen. I set me sights on guardin' me own daughter and thine own brother and sister. Ne'er did I sleep until the camp became quiet in the wee hours of the mornin'; only then did I rest. But, when I awoke, the other wagons were gone. I failed thee, Mistress. I have failed me own master, also."

"You have not failed us, so set your mind at ease, Mr. Henrik. Though this is bad news, indeed, we can overcome it. After all, we never expected to stay with the entire wagon train for very long, since they are going farther south and west while we are bound to travel north and west. We should be able to go on alone, should we not?"

"Be that not the case, Mistress. I do not know the way into the Glacier Mountains. That rascal, Hanson, knew not only the trails and passes into the mountains, he knew thine own cousin, Mr. Tom Johnson, and where he lives in the mountains."

"Oh, yes, I remember this detail about it now. But, take heart, we shall hire another scout. We can return to Fort Benton—we are not so far away from it—and, once there, we will be able to seek out and hire another."

"We cannot, Mistress. I fear that no-good scoundrel took all the silver I paid him, amountin' to two hundred Yankee dollars."

"Oh no!"

"The rascal was gone with them before daylight."

"Do you have more coin? I fear we will need it if we are to return to the fort and hire another man who knows the trails."

"I do not have more coin, Mistress. 'Tis what is worryin' me own self. Thine own elder brother ensured me-self and ye would have enough silver to hire coaches and ships and scouts. He has trusted me-self to safely see thee to thine own cousin, and I fear me own self has failed me master's eldest son. Been waitin' for thee, Mistress. Indeed, 'tis no choice for me-self but to go after the rascal and get back me own silver. I beg thee to understand; I must go after the ne'er-do-well. There be no other choice. I must needs apprehend him, for I dare not fail thy brother."

"No! Mr. Henrik! Surely you must see that if you do this, you will leave us here alone! Please do not leave us."

"And, the silver, Mistress? What will ye and me use for coin to hire another? Forgive me, Mistress Fehér. I must go after him. I have been given no other choice. Gave me own word to thine brother, I did. While thou was gone, I got to thinkin'. Four horses ye have and the wagon. Thou must take the wagon and three of the horses back to Fort Benton and there wait for me own self to return to thee; the fourth horse shall carry me to the thief, where I shall retrieve the stolen silver from him. Ye and me will then hire another scout, but I shall, from this day forward, be careful about whom I trust."

"Mr. Henrik, I hear what you say, but you must consider, too, what will happen to us without you. I do not know the way back to Fort Benton. Please, we are all alone here in this, the wild American prairie land. Please do not leave us."

"I am sorry, Mistress, but I must. 'Tis a matter of honor. Here," said Henrik, "take me own compass with thee and the meager silver coin I have left. I do not need either. Tha' scoundrel cannot be too far ahead and, indeed, what need have I of a compass in this land where 'tis sun, mountains and wind enough to guide a man?"

"But, Mr. Henrik, no. I beg you, do not do this."

"Nay, Mistress. I must. 'Tis my honorable duty. Here"—Henrik pushed the compass into her hand—"ye need to go north and east to the Missouri River. Once thou comes to the Missouri, follow it north and east as best ye can. The fort be on the Missouri River. Stay there. Wait for me own self. I should be only a few days. If I be longer than a few days gettin' back to ye, believe I have met me own fate and hire thine own scout to take ye to thy cousin." Handing her the bag he carried, Henrik continued, "I freely give thee all the coin I have—little though it be—to see thee on thy way. Godspeed."

"But—"

"I must go, Mistress. Forgive me own self for hirin' that no good rogue. But, I must be on me way. Have already saddled the mare. Thou must take the wagon and these three horses back to the fort." Henrik gestured toward the roans. "Wait for me own self there."

Stunned into silence, Czanna felt utterly helpless as she watched Henrik turn away from her. Short of running after him, what could she do to stop him?

She watched, as if in shock, as Mr. Henrik took the few steps necessary to bring him to his roan, and, placing his foot into the saddle's stirrup, he mounted up to take his seat. Feeling as though she were living a nightmare, Czanna murmured, "I do not wish you to go, Mr. Henrik, but if you insist you must, Godspeed. I will return to Fort Benton, and there I shall wait for you."

Henrik nodded. "I will be back for thee, Mistress." And, with these few words, he reined in his mount, turned from her and headed farther west and south, where the snow-capped mountains rising up from the prairie floor looked to be little more than a giant child's toy.

Czanna watched Mr. Henrik until he was a mere speck on the horizon. Then, realizing he would not be turning around and coming back to them, she gazed away.

So lost was she in her own thoughts, she jumped when a feminine voice asked, "Why has me own father left thee and me?"

It was Mr. Henrik's daughter, Lilike, who had asked the question; she had come to stand beside Czanna. Three-year-old Béla was still clinging to Lilike's hip when the child suddenly cried, "Zanna!"

As Czanna looked down upon the babe, she nearly cried. What was to become of them all?

"Here," muttered Czanna, "I'll take the baby."

Lilike seemed happy to give the child over to her mistress.

Positioning the baby onto her own hip, Czanna mustered up a clear voice and said, "The scout, Hanson, whom your father and I hired to help us, has betrayed us all and has left with some gold seekers, who, it seems, left in the early morning hours. The terrible part—and why your father left us—is that the scout took every bit of coin Mr. Henrik had given him to act as our guide into the Glacier Mountains. Because this represents all the coin we have, your father has gone to retrieve the silver and return to us in a few days."

"A few days, Mistress?"

"I fear it is true."

"But, me own father? Won't he be in danger by followin' after the gold seekers?"

"He will, indeed, be in danger. But, Mr. Henrik is, after all, strong of body, and, when determined, he can be a terrible force to contend with. Please try to ease your mind about it; I believe he will return to us."

"But, Mistress, ye and me own self cannot remain here for two days. I fear 'tis not enough water left to drink were ye to have to stay here for even one day and a night. And, 'tis not a bit of water in sight."

"I know," replied Czanna.

"Hast thou a plan, Mistress Fehér?"

Czanna drew in a deep breath before at length replying, "We will return to Fort Benton, which is only a few days away from us. And, once we are there, we will await you father's return."

"Ah, 'tis a good plan, Mistress."

"Please, Lilike, because we are in a foreign land, I beg you to address me as Czanna. If we are to do as the people in this foreign country do, we should refer to one another by our first names. It may take some practice, but I think it will be well worth the effort. We must—at least for the moment—hide our identity."

"I will do me best, Mistress Czanna."

Czanna nodded. "Now, as far as the plan goes, returning to Fort Benton is the only sensible action to take in a circumstance such as this." Czanna couldn't say more; indeed, she was close to tears.

"They were awful," Lilike said without any coaxing as she glanced outward in the same direction where her father had gone.

"Who was awful?" asked Czanna.

"The gold thieves," replied Lilike. "I feared for all of us, and we went without our supper last night because they frightened us so. Thy brother, sister an' me own self hid in the wagon."

"I'm very sorry I wasn't here," murmured Czanna.

"'Twas nothing ye could have done. The gold robbers were dirty, smelly, loud and were cursing somethin' most awful all the night through. Gamblin', they were. Me own self could hear them," said Lilike. "Come morning, it seemed even the good-hearted men in our wagon train had caught the 'golden fever.' Even their own wives had gone with them. Me own father was sleeping and could not be easily woke. To his credit, once he awakened, me own father tried to stop them and ran after them. But, they would not listen. And, now they be gone. Mine own father, too."

"Yes," said Czanna. "Now they are gone. And, as you say, it is done. But, come, we must eat a little of the food we have with us in the wagon, and then we must be on our way. Fort Benton lies east and north of here in that direction." She pointed. "We will travel to the Missouri River, which, if my memory serves me correctly, is not too far away. And, once we reach the river, we shall head up north until we reach Fort Benton, there to await your father rejoining us. Also, once there, we shall have plenty of water to drink and food to eat."

"Yes, Mistress Czanna," said Lilike. "Saints be praised, me own self will help thee with preparing breakfast."

"That would be most welcome," said Czanna. "And, then we must hitch up two of the remaining horses to the wagon and be on our way for as long as we have light. Master Gyorgy should probably ride the best of our horses, I think, while I shall drive the wagon."

Lilike nodded. "'Tis a good plan, Mistress. Does thou wish meself to take the babe?"

"Yes, please. I will need both hands to prepare the meal, and later to hitch up the horses to the wagon."

"Aye, Mistress," said Lilike, and, reaching out, she took hold of the baby, bringing three-year-old Béla into her arms. "It will be no trouble for the babe and me own self to put some breakfast together, and perhaps with thy brother Master Gyorgy's help, we can be on our way."

"Yes," said Czanna. Then, again, "Yes."

****

"Where did you go last night, Czanna?" asked Gyorgy as soon as she and her brother were alone.

Czanna glanced away from Gyorgy. She didn't speak; she was afraid she couldn't. Indeed, she felt as though her tongue might never be able to voice the words she knew she had to say. After all, young though he was, he had a right to know what had taken place all the way across the vast ocean. At the moment, however, all she could think was this: what else was going to befall them?

"Czanna?"

Czanna gave her brother a quick, though sad look before saying, "Because we now number only four, including my maid, I fear I have news I must tell you even though, if we were back in Hungary, your youth would prevent me from relating it to you."

"My youth? I am not so young. With Henrik gone, I am now the man of the family."

"Yes, you are," Czanna replied. "And, so I shall tell you what happened last night that caused me to leave here. In truth, my heart was so low after receiving some news from home that I had to go away to think and to pray."

"There is bad news from home?" asked Gyorgy.

"Truly, there is, and I will tell it to you," answered Czanna. "But, do not say any of what I am about to tell you to Mr. Henrik when he returns, nor to Lilike."

Gyorgy stuck out his chin, raising it into the air. He said, "I may be young, but I am not as unaware as you seem to think I am."

"I do not believe you to be unaware, my brother. Rather, I fear the news is very bad." Czanna swallowed once, then again, before saying, "I received word that our parents and our brother, Frederic, are alive no longer. They were hung a few months ago."

Gyorgy said not a word even as the color drained from his face. Then, without warning, he burst into tears. Taking hold of the letter Czanna had placed into the bodice of her gown, she drew it out and offered her brother the post from Sebestyn.

"Here," she said, "you can read it yourself, if you wish."

Quickly, Gyorgy took hold of the letter and read it through.

Upon completion, his face drained of even more color, causing him to appear as though he had washed his face in wet, white clay instead of water.

Glancing up at Czanna, even his brown eyes looked pale as he asked, "Are we going back to Hungary, then?"

"We cannot," answered Czanna.

"I promised Frederic we would never return to Hungary.

He was insistent about this…very insistent.

He even demanded I give him my word on it, and I did.

Under no circumstance, he told me, were we to return to Hungary.

Besides, if our parents and Frederic are no longer alive, there is no safe harbor there for us.

Frederic's last instruction to me was to take you and Béla away and bring you both here to America; he entrusted me to make a new life for us all in the American West.

He begged me to speak to no one about who we are, not even telling others we are Hungarian.

It is why we have no clothes with us, and it is because the manner in which we would be dressed might cause another to learn what our true nationality is.

This includes never speaking in our native tongue, not even to one another. Indeed, I have been considering that we should change our names. And now, with Frederic and our parents gone, I am convinced of one other detail I had not considered until now: we must have American names."

Gyorgy nodded.

"You are right, Sister."

Czanna inhaled deeply, then said, "Let us do it now.

I think my name is American sounding enough that it could remain the same.

Do you agree?"

"I do," replied Gyorgy.

"Good.

Then, we might Americanize your name to George instead of Gyorgy.

It is almost the same, but with a little different pronunciation.

Also, we must change our last name from Fehér to…" She hesitated, frowning.

Their family name would be, perhaps, the most important aspect about them to require a change.

"What do you think of the surname, Finley? Or perhaps Farrell?"

"They are both good.

But, I think I like Farrell best," said George.

"Then, it shall be Farrell."

"And Béla?" asked George. "What should our baby sister's name be?"

"Let me think for a moment. Béla is much too European sounding. I believe Briella is an American name, and its sound is much like Béla's own. What do you think of calling her Briella?"

"I like it," answered George. "But, we must also change Lilike's name. Perhaps we could keep it the same, only pronounce it differently. I believe the name Liliann is American."

"I think you are right. Then, Liliann it is. We shall tell her about the different pronunciation at once. But, we must not say anything to her about what has taken place back home. Are we agreed about what our actions must and must not be?"

"Yes," said George.

"Good. Then come, let us eat what food we have with us for breakfast. Then we shall hitch the horses up to the wagon, saddle your horse and be on our way. In this manner, we might be able to take advantage of the remaining daylight to get us as close to Fort Benton as possible. I simply wish we did not have to face making the journey alone."

As Czanna looked behind her toward the direction of the cliff where she had met Stands Strong, she wondered if he had, indeed, followed her. And, if he had done so, and if she could make him aware of their troubles, would he offer to help them?

He had said he would follow her without himself being seen. At the time, she had told him it was unnecessary. But, now she could only hope he had not taken her advice too seriously and had, indeed, trailed her, perhaps becoming aware of her plight.

Silently, she said a prayer, asking the Lord to please make it be so.

***

From the rim of the treeless rise in the land, Stands Strong lay flat on his stomach and watched the white woman, Czanna, trod back toward what was clearly a white man's wagon. But, there was only one of the prairie wagons, not the many she had described to him. Had she lied? Or was this an indication of trouble of a different sort?

He dismissed the lie, however, if it had been one. She had been alone with no one to protect her against him if she had found him to be an enemy. Only a fool would have told the truth in such a circumstance.

Still, he wondered about her plight; she had been close to tears more than once during the short interval when they had spoken to one another. What had been the cause of her grief?

He recalled now how difficult it had been to follow her and remain unseen. The reason for this was, of course, because the wide prairie provided few places to conceal oneself.

But, a well-trained scout could always use the environment to fade into it, and Stands Strong had used his rifle to dig a trench in the dry dirt and sand. When done, he had set several patches of grass around the pit as a shield. In this manner, he’d been able to look out upon his surroundings without himself being detected.

As he gazed down upon the flat plains extending out in all directions, he could clearly see the one, lone wagon with its white, cloud-like covering blowing in the constant winds of the prairie. But, assuming Czanna had been honest with him and there had been more wagons the previous evening, where were they now? And, most importantly, if they were gone, why had they left without her and her family?

From his position, he watched as an older man strode around the front of the wagon to greet Czanna. Stands Strong waited for the inevitable hug between the man and the woman, assuming the white man to be her husband or perhaps her father.

But, there was no hug, nor could Stands Strong detect there was even a moment of cheerfulness in their greeting. Instead, the manner in which they spoke to each other suggested they might share no special relationship; there was too much distance between them to believe they held a unique relationship. Even their hand motions did not suggest any particular affection or intimacy.

Why did these two people, who obviously knew one another, show so little emotion to each other? This seemed especially odd because Stands Strong had observed that the white men within the fort—and even his almost-mother—tended to greet one another with great enthusiasm, as did the Blackfeet upon greeting one another.

Because Stands Strong was watching their mouths and lips closely, he could discern a few of their words. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until he saw the white man's lips utter the word "gold."

Gold! That could mean trouble.

What was it his almost-mother had told him about the sparkling golden rock? "There is always trouble in the white man's world when gold is involved."

Indeed, the Pikuni people had long looked upon the white man's lust for gold as unreasonable. And, as clearly as the white man didn't understand the tensions and war between the Plains tribes, the Indian did not comprehend how this golden rock could cause the white man to forget all else except obtaining it.

Even family.

As his almost-father had once told him, "There is no common sense to be found from one white man to another when there is gold to be fought for and won."

So, his almost-father was right: there was trouble coming into Pikuni country…and it was in the form of the golden rock.

Because Stands Strong had not come alone into this part of the prairie, he reached out into the environment to locate the position of his friend and fellow scout, First Rider. Using the time-honored form of communication between scouts—the mind-to-mind speak—he said silently, "There are white men upon the prairie."

"I know," answered First Rider, who was Stands Strong's almost-cousin. Although First Rider was the adopted son of Pikuni Chief Chases-the-enemy, First Rider's real father had been Crow, as was his mother. And so, because neither Stands Strong nor First Rider were blood relatives of the Pikuni, their friendship with one another was, perhaps, natural. Indeed, they had spent their early years playing boys' games together, and growing up into their adult years, they had chosen similar paths to follow in life.

"Where are you?" asked First Rider in the same mind-speak.

"I am in a trench I have dug on the hill leading to the long-ago used pisskan," answered Stands Strong, using the same manner of communication. "I am looking at a single white man's prairie wagon, and I have seen the word 'gold' upon the lips of the man who appears to be the owner of the wagon."

"You have done well to have discovered this, Almost-cousin. I will join you there shortly."

The communication ended.

His almost-cousin must have been close by because First Rider came belly crawling into the trench after very little time had elapsed. Quickly, utilizing the language of sign, Stands Strong told First Rider of his encounter with Czanna; he spoke of his shock when, having followed her, he had seen only the one wagon. Lastly, he went on to describe the older man who had uttered the word "gold" and who had then ridden away, leaving his family alone upon the prairie.

First Rider signed, "What kind of man is this who deserts his women, the boy and a babe alone on the vast prairie? He is either touched in the head or evil. Do you know which he is?"

"I do not. But, because the woman, Czanna, mentioned several wagons were a part of her group, this man might have left to find and bring the others to justice," replied Stands Strong, again utilizing the sign language. "The men from the other wagons have, after all, left this one of their own behind, when all know one wagon alone could invite all manner of evil upon it."

"Your ideas are reasonable," said First Rider in sign. "But, I still think the man has none of his wits about him."

"Maybe," signed Stands Strong. "But, I also watched as the man gave the woman a purse and another object. Perhaps he believes these small objects will protect her and the rest of his family from a misplaced arrow. Also, I saw his lips say he would meet up with her at Fort Benton."

First Rider remained silent.

"As you know," continued Stands Strong through the language of sign, "our chiefs have bid you and me to join our cousins Medicine Fox, Howling Wolf and Snow, who are heading south to obtain the wild ponies. But, although you and I were to be part of their party, the chiefs first asked us to discover what the danger is that my almost-father dreamed about. And, upon discovering what might be the danger, we agreed to report anything we find back to the chiefs.

"And now," continued Stands Strong in sign, "after witnessing the word 'gold' spoken on the tongue of the white man, I believe we may have found the threat to our people. And, if this be the case, we must learn more and then report what we find back to the chiefs."

"Yes," First Rider signed.

"Yet, there are now two parties we must follow. One is the white man who has left his family. We are tasked to discover what danger this man has experienced, and if the threat be gold, we must return to the chiefs with haste. There is also the family he has deserted, who, being a small party, will likely come to harm if left undefended. Because I have already met and spoken with one of the women traveling in the prairie wagon, I believe she might influence the others to allow me to join them. In this way, I will do what I can to ensure they arrive at Fort Benton unharmed."

First Rider nodded. "I will, then, follow the trail of the man. I will watch these gold seekers and determine who these people are and what they plan to do. I will then bring the news to you, and together we shall leave our cousins who are traveling south in search of the wild ponies while we report our discoveries back to our chiefs."

Stands Strong nodded and signed, "Good. Let us now do as we have agreed before the white men, who are seeking gold, get too far away."

"Yes," agreed First Rider in sign, and, with each man placing his hand upon the other's shoulder, they parted. Stands Strong watched his cousin for a moment, but then returned his attention to the family and their single conveyance. A lone wagon upon the trail was a dangerous position for the white man to have put upon his family, since any war party in the vicinity would look upon the wagon as fair game and an easy target.

However, as serious as it was, Stands Strong couldn't help smiling a little as he watched the two women and the young boy try to harness two of their horses onto the white man's transport.

He debated whether he should approach the family now and give them the aid they needed. However, glancing toward the north, he saw several black clouds gathering there, and, realizing a storm would soon be upon them, he surmised Czanna's family would not be in a position to hunt. Hánnia, they would require food.

The storm, while it would release its fury upon these people, was not necessarily harmful. And, it would act as a shield against any wandering war party, giving Stands Strong the chance to hunt. Since a food offering had a way of easing another's fear, it might, perhaps, act as a peace offering to Czanna and her family.

Climbing out of the dugout, Stands Strong took the time needed to fill it in again with the earth nearby, adding some landscaping around the place in case another scout were in the vicinity. Then, on belly and forearms, he scooted up and over the hill and disappeared from view.