Women and children ran to surround the returning braves and warriors. White Bear saw Iron Knife on horseback towering above the crowd, his huge arms lifted triumphantly. From each fist dangled a scalp. Beside him was Wolf Paw, a blue cloth, stained red with blood, wrapped around his left shoulder. Wolf Paw's right hand was raised high, gripping three long hanks of hair with disks of white flesh hanging from them. More braves rode behind them, also holding up scalps. Scalps, scalps, scalps. White Bear staggered. He could not take his eyes from them. The hair was of many different colors--light brown, gray, dark brown, black. Some of the locks were very long, and must have been taken from women's heads. Could Wolf Paw be holding Nicole's hair, or Frank's? Could it be Grandpapa's? Heart pounding, White Bear forced himself to push through the crowd. He heard cattle lowing and horses neighing in the distance. Questioning shouts and cries of greeting. A scream of agony froze him. A woman's voice. And then another, from another part of the crowd, piercing his eardrums. And still more screams. He realized what was happening. Women were learning that their men had not come back. Scalps and screams. Wolf Paw's gifts to the British Band. White Bear worked his way past women calling out anxious questions. He suddenly came upon his mother leading a wailing pregnant woman out of the crowd. "She heard that her husband was killed, and she has gone into labor," Sun Woman said, her face hollow with her own pain. White Bear squeezed her arm briefly as she passed him. When he got close to Wolf Paw he saw a bound woman's body draped face down across the back of the brave's gray pony. She wore a ragged blue dress. Her feet were bare, dirty and covered with scratches. She did not stir. From this side of the pony White Bear could not see her face. A sickening suspicion gripped him, and he hesitated, not wanting his fear confirmed. Wolf Paw, frowning down at him angrily, was still wearing his yellow and red war paint, faded by the ride of several days. "I raided the town where you lived, White Bear. I took forty head of cattle and twenty horses from your pale eyes relatives." "I am glad to hear of the cattle," said White Bear. "Our people are starving." Wanting, and not wanting, to know who Wolf Paw's captive was, he walked around the brave's horse for a better look at the bound woman. "We killed many pale eyes," Wolf Paw said. "They will never forget Wolf Paw's raid. Tonight we will have a scalp dance for the warriors who have become braves." White Bear stopped walking. People he knew and loved on both sides had died; he had to learn which ones. After a moment he collected himself. "And will you dance for the braves and warriors you did not bring back?" It was a cruel thing to say, but Wolf Paw deserved it. Wolf Paw did not answer.