Golden Fox bolted upright and threw off her sleeping robe. She reached for her mother’s robe only to find it empty.

Sky Bird stood beside the open flap of the lodge.

Golden Fox jumped up and squeezed past her mother. “What happens? Father Sun is barely awake.”

“Daughter, stay back. It is my crazy aunt racing through camp half-falling from her mustang. She brings more fire water and even three pale ones with her. We need to send someone to bring back your grandfather from his Time of Mourning. Too many hunters are gone. Only he can make our people, who crave the drink, listen.”

Golden Fox put on her long tunic and leggings. “Mother, I will go.”

“The pale ones dare not see you!”

Before her mother could grasp her tunic, Golden Fox pulled the lodge’s flap wider and raced past her toward the herd of mustangs, a nose rope in hand. A whistle brought the black-grey animal splashed in white to her side.

She jumped on the animal and urged him forward. He nickered and jerked his head back to stare behind them.

“I hear the shouting, Swift Arrow. We go to find Grandfather!” She urged him on with a strong squeeze to his sides, then bit her lower lip and gazed all around. “I can only guess where he is. The land rolls and folds into valleys and then stretches out into grasslands. Swift Arrow, you go with him everywhere.” She patted the animal’s neck. “I give you your lead.”

The animal trotted toward two hills that rose sharply into the sky, and into the narrow valley between the hills. The farther they rode, the closer the hills grew to each other, until the valley became a ravine. Sheer walls grew tall and bowed their heads close together at the top, so only streaks of sun striped the ground below.

The trail continued along the shadowed foot of the cliffs. The mustang stopped when the opening between the walls of the ravine became too narrow for his body to fit. A rocky path led up the steep side of the rough wall until it climbed out of sight near the top.

Golden Fox slid off Swift Arrow. “Sweet Mother, did Grandfather climb this path?” She stared around, but Swift Arrow stood with one hind foot tipped up and resting, his head drooped low as if he might already be asleep. “Swift Arrow, did you bring me here so you could sleep, or is Grandfather up above?”

The mustang barely opened his large brown eyes, as if to ask how she could doubt his knowledge.

With a sigh, Golden Fox turned to face the rough trail. Stones and sharp shards littered the hard ground. Fearful of sliding on the loose stones, she tested each footstep before moving onto the next.

“Why did I not put on my footwear,” she mumbled to herself. Even with the bottoms of her feet hardened, she felt much pain.

The animal trotted past the first and second paths, which led inside two spiraling routs of deep orange and light red walls. He reached the third path, which offered only a narrow way in, then stopped and pranced.

“Go in, boy, we must hurry.”

The mustang could only go in partway, stopping when the path narrowed. Two rocky paths split off from there, neither wide enough for Swift Arrow to walk through without tripping over the fallen stones.

“Sweet Mother, neither have tracks I can follow.” She walked a little ways in, and yelled for her grandfather.

Nothing.

The second path proved no better. Light streamed through the wide open top.

Part way up the trail, she called out, “Grandfather!” Panic set in and her heart drummed when he did not answer.

More steps.

Awakened by her presence, featherless black-winged ones burst from a winding yellow slit in the wall above her head, and raced past, barely missing her hair.

She ducked and slipped. Heart racing, she scrambled to stop her slide, fell to her knees, and bit hard into her lower lip as the slick stones cut her knees and legs. Shaky, she eased back to her feet and sucked in her bloody lip. When her heart stopped pounding, she continued the climb.

“Eagle Thunder, where are you? Grandfather!”

A deep voice called out. “When you reach the top, look toward where Father Sun rises and you will see where I am.”

The path became less steep as it crested the top of the cliff, where it meandered into a flat, sandy area with a small pond. A jagged tooth of the cliff’s wall stuck up above the tiny meadow. Saplings grew in the tooth’s shadow, and cattails dominated the rest of the area.

With his sleeping robe rolled in his arms, Eagle Thunder looked at the blood seeping from her knees and upper legs, and shook his head. “Swollen feet. Girl, will you ever learn to use footwear?”

“I... the band needs you! Yellow Moon has brought hairy-faces and fire water to our band. Her mustang carried much of the poison drink. The hunters have not returned—”

Talk as we make our way through the stones.” He slung his robe over his shoulder. “Too deep in my sorrow, I did not hear the Spirits who may have tried to warn me. Your grandmother was hard to find.” He dropped his robe and picked up Golden Fox.

“You are too old to carry me. Put me down and I will follow.”

“Do not ever say I am too old to do something, little one. I am an elder, yes, and my hair is white, yes, but I am not too old to carry my fourteen-winters-old granddaughter who is lighter than a carryall of feathers.”

Swift Arrow whinnied as the pair came from the narrow trail.

Eagle Thunder tossed her on the mustang’s back, and leapt in front of her as she scooted back. Once clear of the ravine, he squeezed Swift Arrow’s sides hard. “Too much smoke rises ahead.” He urged the animal to go faster.

Hooves ate up the ground and left Golden Fox squeezing her grandfather’s waist.

***

Sweat-soaked, Swift Arrow thundered into camp and past the first lodge before Eagle Thunder could lean back, signaling him to stop. Eagle Thunder and his granddaughter flew off the terrified mustang in front of two partly burnt lodges. Only charred poles marked where a third lodge had once stood.

Swift Arrow raced away toward the herd, and the lead mare set the herd to running away from the fire. Surprised foals whinnied and did their best to catch up.

Sky Bird and other women threw handfuls of dirt onto the blazing lodges.

Men dashed in and yanked out belongings, tossing them aside before hurrying to retrieve more.

Women tore at the lodges, ripping them apart and dragging the pieces away from the greedy fingers of the flames.

Eagle Thunder and Golden Fox joined the others who fought to kill the fast-moving blaze.

Drunken laughter reached those who fought the fire. “We can have much if we live closer to the white ones. Maybe they will teach us to make wooden lodges as they have. We can live as they do.” Yellow Moon raised a rabbit fur-covered leather flask. Her slurred voice grew in excitement, and she laughed louder.

Eagle Thunder, covered in fallen ash, spun around and took fast steps to reach her. “You did this, did you not, old woman? Your heart is as black as our burnt lodges, and your Spirit dies even as you stand before me. It fades to grey and will soon turn to dust!”

“We can make new wooden lodges and live near the hairy-faces! More come this way with each full moon.” She pointed to iron pots. “We already find their big pots better to cook in. When last did our people use an animal’s bladder to cook in? The time of Shining Light, it was. They offer much in trade for your half-blood daughter, and your pale granddaughter. They will be angry when they know of what Sun Rising has done.” She pointed at the dead hairy-faces. “Sun Rising must pay for what he did—shooting arrows without allowing them to speak. He is old and weak—of no use to us, the Sun People.”

Sun Rising pushed her and she staggered back. “Shining Light warned of these times, and now we see what we are becoming and have a chance to change. Woman, your laughter sounds as a wounded coyote. A scar on our people is what you are—a scar that runs deep into the bone.”

His eyes blazed like the flames around them. “Those crazy pale ones raced into camp without asking if they were welcome. Children play everywhere! Had I not acted, early rising children would have been run over.” He spit on the ground before her and walked away.

Yellow Moon tossed four carryall pouches to the ground, and used a small branch on the tree next to her to hold herself upright. She shouted and waved with one hand. Her dress, stained dark brown down the middle of it, had one grey braid half undone. She stood with only one boot on and raised her arms. “Come drink with me!” She glanced at her bare foot. “I will get another hard leather boot from the pale ones!”

Her feet tangled and she stumbled sideways, kicking the pouch open, and flasks fell out. She blinked as if her eyes refused to focus. “The whites have much to offer. What we call footwear, they call mockosins... moccosens....”

She shrugged and laughed again. “They have hard leather boots that some of you wear. They do not wear out as our ‘mocca-sins’ do. Where do you think the beads you use with the quills on our clothing come from? The sky? We trade much for them. If we move outside of the wooden fort, we will get much more! Great gifts await us!”

The flasks lay scattered on the ground. One spewed and mixed with the ashes.

Eagle Thunder yanked the swaying Yellow Moon forward. “And why do you call these flasks great gifts, woman? I can smell your stench. The poisoned water in them kills our people. Never before have we needed to worry that a mother or father would hit their child, but with deadly fire water in their stomachs, some go crazy and harm their children, or harm the elders.” He raised his chin. “I will kill the next white man who dares to come into camp.”

Yellow Moon jerked free of his hold and sneered. “Once you were a great warrior, but now your hand shakes. Drop your bow from your shoulder before you kill yourself! You are as Sun Rising, weak old man.”

He grinded his teeth. “My anger makes me shake.”

A smile drew deep wrinkles across her face. Blackened and broken stumps of teeth showed against her dirty face. “The pale ones offer fire water that helps us to see into the Spirit Land, speak to the Great Mystery. I know more than Shining Light! Send your grey-eyed daughter and your ugly pale granddaughter back to Sky Bird’s man. My ears have heard he wishes them back. Maybe they will forget about the dead white men that lie face-down in our camp, and will still welcome us if we give them those ... those two useless women.”

“Her man threw her away! My hand shakes from anger, not weakness.” Eagle Thunder pulled his obsidian knife and raised it to her neck. “What worth do you have?” He breathed deep, stepped back, lowered the knife, dropped his head in shame. “We are taught even as babies in our cradleboard that we do not harm one of our own. Yellow Moon, you must leave the Sun People before you cause more harm. I will even pack a mustang for you. I am certain others will gladly pull down your old lodge—”

“I go nowhere. You take your belongings, old man, and leave, alone. Be happy that the whites will take your two burdens. You will be rid of them.”

People stared in silence and no one moved.

Yellow Moon lowered herself and reached inside the carryall pouch. She tossed leather flasks at the people’s feet.

The elders who grabbed the flasks and passed them around received much praise from some, but others turned away in silence. The eldest among the people left the flasks where they had hit the ground, hurried into their lodges, and tied the flaps shut.

“Gutless, worthless....” Yellow Moon glared after those who left with no drink. She raised a flask of fire water and drank. Some of it ran down her neck and disappeared inside her stained dress. When she lowered the flask, she peered at the ones who stood watching and listening.

Several raised flasks to their lips, ignoring everyone as their chins dripped with their prize.

Yellow Moon sat legs splayed, and somehow managed to stand. “Bring me your bone necklaces, the colorful stones you carved holes into and made round, and your shells of many colors we traded for to make our clothing. Our decorated clothes, our footwea... moccasins are worth much in the eyes of many hairy-faces. They wish to take them over the salty waters to... to show how smart we are. Bring out your quillwork so we can trade for thick boots, blankets with colors, more iron pots, more met-al knives, and much fire water. Much fire water!”

Eagle Thunder’s voice boomed. “We do not need more iron pots. We have good knives made of obsidian, for which we trade.” He grasped her arm and shook it hard. “My lodge is gone. My daughter’s lodge is gone. Sun Rising and his woman’s lodge! Gone! So are two other lodges.” He yelled in her face. “You will pack up and leave us! You are now thrown away. Go!”

Yellow Moon tumbled backward and sneered at him as another woman held her up. She staggered away. “You cannot throw me away. The Holy Man must do it, and he is hunting with the rest of our strong people, unlike you who runs into the canyons to hide.”

Golden Fox hurried to grab the sleeve of his tunic. “Do not allow her to tear at your heart, grandfather. The band knows you left to grieve for Grandmother. We... we have much to clean up. The hunters will bring us humpback hides to scrape and make more lodges. The warm season comes, and we can sleep outside until the lodges are done.”

***

Sleep did not claim Golden Fox, though her body ached with weariness.

Sun Rising had given her grandfather and them the lodge that his daughter and her man had slept in before the pale one’s found the couple gathering berries during the Time of Falling Leaves, and ran long knives through them.

Sun Rising’s daughter had lived long enough to tell him who had attacked them. He and his woman moved five sunrises away from the wooden fort, until Eagle Thunder brought them back to the safety of the Sun People and their sister band, who combined for even more protection. Sadly, most of the sister band moved even closer to the wooden fort.

Golden Fox stepped over her mother and grandfather and sped across camp. She made her way up to the top of the large stones, seeking solace before Father Sun woke.

From somewhere in the darkness, a mustang nickered and snorted, prompting Golden Fox to creep to the edge of the cliff and look down. She spotted Yellow Moon riding out of camp.