Golden Fox batted at Swift Arrow’s soft muzzle. He moved his head until she lay still again, and nibbled her hair.

“Go ’way, Swift Arrow.” She pulled the robe up higher until only the very top of her head stuck out.

Unwilling to go away, Swift Arrow grabbed a corner of her sleeping robe and tugged.

She tightened her grip and squeezed her eyes more tightly closed. “Mustang, why do you torture me?”

He shoved her back hard with his head.

Frustrated, she flung her robe aside and glared up at him. “Swift Arrow, why do you wake me? And you, Dog, why do you sit and grin at me with your tongue hanging from your mouth? Am I so funny?”

An unknown voice spoke. “Perhaps, they wake you so a herd of humpbacks will not trample you in your sleep.”

Golden Fox grabbed her knife and sprang to her feet to face the stranger.

A woman with loose, dark hair squatted on the far side of the cold campfire. Dressed in a man’s tunic and leggings, she rocked on her heels. Bright, round eyes studied Golden Fox, shining from an oval face with high cheekbones. The square jaw, which would look manly on any other woman, only added to her beauty. “Be at peace, Golden Fox. I have not come to harm you. Yellow Moon spoke of me.”

From behind the strange woman, someone walked toward Golden Fox’s camp leading four mustangs with neck ropes.

Golden Fox’s eyes slanted at the woman by the cold fire, then quickly returned to the stranger with the animals. Surely, this woman who had so silently come upon her sleeping could hear the hooves of the animals behind her. Why did she not turn to see who came?

Golden Fox tightened the hold on her knife and crouched into a fighting stance. They must be together.

As the second stranger came closer, she judged him with her eyes—a boy of not more summers than her own, but at least half a head taller. Dressed only in a breechclout, Golden Fox could still see that his was not the well-muscled chest of a man. He possessed the thin chest and arms of a boy.

The woman’s face looked as if she fought a smile.

Golden Fox’s heart thundered and her breath came in short, hard pants. She wanted to scream at the woman that this was not the time to laugh. Could the woman be so cruel as to enjoy the fear and pain of her enemies? Golden Fox had heard about such among the Peoples, especially in the Likes To Fight band. Was this woman part of that band? It did not matter. Golden Fox had decided she would not have her people remember her as one who ran like a scared child and led the enemy to their camp.

With the smoothness of a warrior, the strange woman stood up.

The black mustang jerked away from the boy and trotted a few steps toward the woman, bobbing his head and snorting in a playful dance.

Golden Fox slanted a glance at Dog and Swift Arrow. The tip of Dog’s tail swung back and forth slowly, as it did when children in camp came toward her. Swift Arrow’s head was up and he stood tall, staring at the black mustang, but in no other way did he show that he smelled an enemy. The mustang had always been able to tell enemy from friend. His actions spoke of no fear, no anger.

The strange woman turned toward the mustang and lifted a hand, palm up to the black animal. “Moon... saaa.... saaa.” With slow steps, she walked up to him. He nickered and shifted his weight from one front foot to the other, as if he could not decide what to do. She ran her hands under his muzzle and down his broad chest.

“All is well, Moon. You do not need to prance and show the other stallion that you are strong.” He calmed and stepped closer, and she wrapped her arms around the animal’s neck and removed the hanging rope. His slick, obsidian-colored hair shone in the rays of Father Sun.

With the mustang at her shoulder, she turned toward Golden Fox. “I am Dances In Storms, a Holy Woman. We must be on our way. My people are but a day behind.”

“Behind?” Golden Fox barely noticed how elk and deer teeth decorated the stranger’s deerskin tunic from the waist up to the collar. Small pieces of shells shimmered blue along the collar. Long fringe from the waist of her tunic fell to her knees. Her clothes spoke of one who was important; yet, none of that mattered to Golden Fox.

Mouth agape, she stared at the woman and the mustang. “How did you teach him so well?”

The boy shuffled his feet loudly, drawing the women’s eyes briefly to him. He shot the mustang a disgruntled look. “You allow him too much freedom for an uncut male.” The boy backed away when the mustang moved his rump around so it pointed toward the boy’s face.

Golden Fox would have laughed if this mustang had acted this way toward one of her people. Any boy with as many summers as this boy would have known how to act with such a spirited animal. She held her laughter and her tongue, waiting to see how the woman would answer such disrespect. Perhaps, she would not see it as disrespectful. Golden Fox had heard stories about Peoples whose men showed disrespect to their women. Always in the Sun People, before the poisoned water blackened so many Spirits, men had shown great respect to women, and the young had shown great respect toward the elders.

The pain of losing so much lanced through her chest like a spear. She gritted her teeth against it and focused her attention on the two strangers.

Dances In Storms laughed lightly and shook her head, as an elder would shake her head at a youngster with too few summers to know better. “Keep your mouth still, Long Sun, or I will maybe make you ride him. See if you or Moon becomes the leader.”

The boy puffed out his chest and lifted his chin. “I could ride that mustang! I would show him who is leader!”

With eyebrows lifted, Dances In Storms chuckled. “You wish to try, boy?”

He shuffled back a couple steps and looked away. “Um, perhaps another....” His eyes landed on Golden Fox and he nodded toward her. “She is good to look at, Storms. Perhaps I will take her as my woman. I like her shining, gold-red hair. Father Sun makes it even brighter.” He grinned and whipped long, dark hair from his face with a quick sideways nod, then spoke to Golden Fox. “Your knees are covered in small pieces of dirt and sand. Perhaps you wish for me to wipe them clean for you?”

The boy’s sudden attention caused Golden Fox to blush, and her eyes to shift from Dances In Storms. She tugged the short fringe of her dress. “You are a boy. I do not need your help.” With one hand, she brushed at her plain, brown dress and dusted the dirt from her knees. A confusion, a feeling she never had with the boys in her band, filled her.

Dances In Storms’ voice snapped Golden Fox out of her confusion. “Girl, do not just stare. We must leave. Long Sun and I sang healing songs and danced much of the night, and then hurried to catch up to you. There are those of your people who no longer breathe, but many of the ones sick from poisoned water need much care. We must hurry if we are to help them greet Father Sun for another sunrise.”

She turned toward Moon, preparing to jump on him as she spoke more. “The whites poisoned water does things to our minds. Gather the healing plants you picked. They will help. I, too, have medicines that your people need.”

Dances In Storms swung up on her mustang and took one of the other mustang’s lead ropes from Long Sun. “Boy, stop giving her big eyes and get on your animal. I am sure she has had enough of your silliness.”

Long Sun whirled around and gracefully leapt onto his animal. With the lead rope for the fourth animal tight in his hand, he followed Dances In Storms.

Pointed in the direction of Golden Fox’s people, they tapped their animals into a smooth trot.

For a short span, Golden Fox stared at the puffs of dust that hung in the air as the strangers moved farther away.

Swift Arrow shoved her hard in the back and she stumbled forward, snapping out of the stillness that had taken hold of her. She ran over, grabbed her robe, the water bladder, the pouch of jerked meat, and the pouches of plants. Quickly, she rolled them into her sleeping robe and tied it to Swift Arrow, then leapt onto his back.

Dog raced after Dances In Storms, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth, leaving Golden Fox and Swift Arrow behind. She tapped Swift Arrow into a gallop.

When she caught up, Long Sun glanced at her bare feet. “Perhaps you have forgotten something?”

Golden Fox’s eyes dipped down. She smacked the palm of her hand against the side of her head. “My footwear! I must go back.” She swung Swift Arrow around, but before she could nudge him into motion, Long Sun let out a whoop and raced toward her deserted camp.

Dances in Storms laughed. “He went on his first Vision Quest and had his Making A Man ceremony five moons ago, yet he acts like a boy.”

They ambled along, so Long Sun could easily catch up without tiring his animal.

Golden Fox shot a sideways look at Dances In Storms. “Yellow Moon came to me in a vision last night. How did she know you would come?”

All laughter faded from Dances In Storms’ face. “Yellow Moon is a faraway relation.”

Before Golden Fox could open her mouth to question her, Dances in Storms tapped her mustang and trotted off. Puzzled by the Holy Woman’s actions, Golden Fox pulled Swift Arrow to a stop and gazed after her.

Long Sun rode up and handed the footwear to her. “Did your mustang run out of air?”

Golden Fox’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “If we found a path, he could run all the way to Father Sun!”

She tugged her footwear on and nudged Swift Arrow into a fast walk. “Are you Dances In Storms’ son?”

He threw his head back and laughed. The sound was surprisingly deep and soothing. “She is my aunt. My father gave me to her when I was five winters old. He saw I held Power and would become a Holy Man.” He sat up straighter on his mustang.

“Do you and Dances In Storms travel with a band? Is your family with you?”

Long Sun’s animal, grey with black-striped legs, whinnied and pranced. “No, they are many days ride from us. I see them every cycle of seasons at the gathering, when we hunt and trade. When I am a Holy Man, I will return to them. Our Holy Woman is aging, and soon I will take her place.”

“It takes many long seasons to become a Holy Person.” She urged Swift Arrow to move faster. He lengthened his stride, and her tangled hair bounced on her thighs.

Long Sun urged his mustang to match the speed of Swift Arrow. “Storms speaks of how fast I learn. She spoke to my father a cycle of seasons ago and told him I would return before my brother was a man.”

Golden Fox caught her lower lip between her teeth as she watched him struggle to ride as tall and easy as she while his mustang’s stride bounced him around. “How old is your brother?”

“He was born eight moons ago.” Long strands of night-black hair whipped around his face. He tossed his head to throw the wayward strands over his shoulder as he glanced at her. “Storms has a comb carved from bone. She would maybe let you use it.”

“I have my own comb, bony boy.” Golden Fox tapped her mustang into a run.

They quickly left Long Sun behind in her dust. She caught up to Dances In Storms, whooped, and passed her.

***

Father Sun rested at the bottom of the sky as Swift Arrow trotted into the busy camp just ahead of Dances In Storms and Long Sun. The smell of cooked meat made Golden Fox’s mouth moist as she led the way to the place her grandfather, her mother, and she called their own. Their camp would move soon, so no one had put up lodges, except for the sick and the injured.

Though the embers of the cooking fire glowed red, the cooking pot sat to one side of the stone fire circle. “Mother and Grandfather must be with someone who needs them.” She slid from Swift Arrow’s back and checked out the pot. “Mother has cooked meat and tubers. I will heat up the food after I take care of Swift Arrow.”

As Long Sun helped unpack Dances In Storms’ mustang, he nodded toward Swift Arrow. “If you will trust me, I will care for all of our animals.”

Golden Fox hesitated until Dances In Storms handed Moon’s lead rope to the boy. “Though I tease Long Sun, he is good with animals.”

She hesitated for a short span longer while Long Sun and Dances In Storms watched her. She rubbed Swift Arrow’s broad forehead between his eyes and the mustang snorted. She looped his lead rope around his neck and, with a jerk, he pulled loose and trotted over to Long Sun.

Golden Fox laughed. “Swift Arrow trusts you, so I will, too.”

Long Sun smiled as he caught Swift Arrow’s lead rope and bowed to the mustang. “Oh, mighty fast runner, I am honored that you will let me rub your body with dried grasses and scratch the places that itch.”

After Long Sun walked away, Dances In Storms cleared her throat and spoke. “How is it that you ride your mustang without a nose rope?”

Golden Fox tilted her head and studied the older woman. “This is how you and Long Sun ride, as well.” She turned around and moved to the cooking fire. After she set the pot on the hot embers, she set bowls next to the fire circle.

“We are the Sister Wolf Band.” Dances In Storms acted as if that explained the differences between her and other Peoples.

Golden Fox pursed her lips. “Mother told me that many cycles of seasons ago, when my Grandfather’s grandfather was young, our people met a band who called themselves Wolf People. The Wolf People saw my band had no mustangs. They gifted our Holy Man, and a few elders and warriors with mustangs.

“Since no one in the Sun People’s band had ever ridden one, the Wolf People stayed at our camp until our people learned to speak the language of the mustangs. When a person learns how to speak to mustangs, it is easy to ride using our legs to guide the animals, without need for face or neck ropes.”

Golden Fox flicked a glance toward the herd and noticed Long Sun walking toward them. As she told the rest of the story, she added food into the bowls. “We use lead ropes only when a mustang might wish to go to his herd before he is rubbed down, and sometimes to keep a young animal close until he learns to do so with no need of a rope.”

Long Sun’s strides grew longer when he saw the wooden bowls of food.

Golden Fox smiled as she handed the first one to Dances In Storms. “The stories say that wolves lived with the Wolf People and their dogs and mustangs showed no worry. I wish I could see such a thing!” Wistfulness filled her voice. She cleared her throat, embarrassed to show such childish emotion in front of strangers.

Dances In Storms appeared ready to speak as she accepted the bowl, but only grinned.

Golden Fox dipped food into her own bowl and sat across the fire from Dances In Storms and Long Sun. Between bites of food, she continued the story. “Some cold seasons ago, we stopped following our mustangs and traveling in the grasslands. Our Holy Man and some others in the Sun People’s band decided we should camp only four sunrises from the white men’s wooden lodge to trade with them.”

She sighed. “Grandfather warned the elders such closeness would bring trouble to our people, but since many people were happy, the elders refused to listen to Grandfather. At first, it was good. Our people got met-al knives and beautiful blankets and strange things none of us had seen before, in trade for robes and furs we did not need. Iron pots make cooking food faster. I have a clear stone flattened into a round circle, and I can see myself in it.”

A shadow fell over Golden Fox’s heart. “The whites began visiting our camp. At first, they brought the things our people could use—things such as we traded for when we traveled to their wooden lodge. They came many times, and one time they brought leather flasks of poisoned water.”

Golden Fox’s hands clenched the bowl. “They offered free sips of the poisoned water as they traded with our people. The ones who drank this poisoned water made poor trades with the white men. Instead of things their families could use, like warm blankets, they accepted flasks of fire water.

“At first, not many of the People drank the poisoned water. After the pale men left our camp, those with poisoned water offered others who sat beside their campfire drinks of it. They said it brought good dreams. Several sunrises after the whites had left, some of the Sun People drank much fire water. They staggered and fell down, like wounded animals.

“My mother, Sky Bird, is a healer. She tried to help these people who had fallen into a sleep close to death. There was nothing she could do, except watch and roll them to their sides when the food and drink in their stomachs came up through their mouths.”

The heat of anger rose in Golden Fox’s chest. “When these people woke, they talked of strange dreams and great visions. Those in the camp who hungered to be looked up to, and to be called Dreamers, began trading all they had for the poisoned water.”

A hard swallow pushed down the lump that had become a boulder in her throat. Golden Fox set aside her bowl. “A couple of moons ago, Grandmother journeyed to the Spirit Land. This was only a few sunrises after our best hunters and warriors left to get meat.

“Grandfather, as a strong elder, held some Power over the people. When Grandmother left, Grandfather mourned so deeply, his eyes became blind and his ears became deaf to what was happening with the Sun People. Knowing he had to go on the Walk of Mourning to release Grandmother’s Spirit, he left the camp.”

Golden Fox’s hands, lying on her thighs, formed into fists. “Not many sunrises after he left, my mother’s sister, Yellow Moon, began gathering furs, robes, tunics made with quills, clay pots, and bowls from our people to trade for poisoned water. The bad Spirits in the poisoned water had blackened Yellow Moon’s Spirit. When she did not have enough to trade, she stole from others in our band.

“The more poisoned water the people drank, the more angry fists were thrown, and much shouting between them happened. Some men beat their women and children. When the whites came to our camp, some of the women would sneak into the woods with them. Sometimes, these women did not return. We never knew if they went willingly or not. We had heard of the pale men taking women even if they did not want to go. Some of those women, it was said, were thrown away by the white men and returned to their People with bruised faces and broken Spirits.”

Overcome with terrible memories, Golden Fox fell silent.

Dances In Storms set aside her bowl and moved closer to Golden Fox. Her hand rubbed circles on Golden Fox’s back. “I have never heard as much words from one as I do you. Most girls... women... as young as you only shy away and hide. You are a strong one, Golden Fox. Speak your words, and allow them to escape on Sister Wind—allow her to take them away.”

Not lifting her bowed head, Golden Fox rushed through the rest of the story in a dead voice. “The last sunrise we were part of the Sun People, many of our people and Yellow Moon had drunk much poisoned water. Fights left people bleeding. Mother and I helped an elder, one who drank no poisoned water, to move young children from lodges where much anger grew. Afterwards, my mother sent me to find Grandfather. When Grandfather and I returned, Yellow Moon had burned our lodges. Only a few belongings had been saved. Grandfather tried to stop Yellow Moon from doing more bad things, but she found ways around him. He sent Sun Rising to bring our Holy Man back from the hunt.

“Yellow Moon must have ridden her mustang very hard to beat Sun Rising to the hunters’ camp. By the time the elder arrived, the Holy Man had drunk much poisoned water. When he returned to our camp, the Holy Man did not throw Yellow Moon away for stealing and fighting. He threw Grandfather, mother, and me away.

“As we packed, Yellow Moon tried to harm me with a knife. Mother shoved her away. Yellow Moon fell onto her own knife and I believe she died.” Golden Fox pulled in a shaky breath. “Our band broke, and people stayed behind while others followed Grandfather to find a new land far away from hairy-faces.”

Dances In Storms dropped her hand from Golden Fox’s back and shook her head. “Many whites have black in their hearts. I wish none of our Peoples would trade with them, but some wishes are not to be.”

She scooted around to face Golden Fox and gently touched her arm. “You do not carry the bad Spirits that live in their bodies, even if you carry their blood.” When Golden Fox opened her mouth to speak, the Holy Woman laid a finger across her lips. “Not now. We must go to the sick, but we will speak of this.”

Golden Fox hurried after the Holy Woman, leaving Long Sun seated by the fire.

As they neared the lodge of the ones sick from poisoned water, Eagle Thunder pushed open the flap and stepped out. He rushed over and grasped Dances In Storms by the forearm, and she returned the shake of one warrior to another.

A broad smile stretched Eagle Thunder’s lips. “I greet you, Dances In Storms. Stands His Ground spoke of you with much praise. You honor my people with your presence.”

The smile fell away when he nodded toward the trees some distance from the camp. “Nine of our people did not greet Father Sun. We would be honored if you would help us sing their Spirits to their relations who sit by the campfires in the sky.” He gave a sorrowful shake of his head. “Our small band grows heavy with children who no longer have the family they were born into.”