White Bear had to fight himself to keep from crying aloud in anguish. He no longer had any doubt who the captive woman was who hung head down over the spotted pony. One yellow braid was still tied with a blue bow. The other had come undone, and loose locks of blond hair hung down, almost brushing the ground. He bent to see Nancy's unconscious face. Coming up beside him Redbird asked quietly, "Do you know this woman?" "Yes," he said. It all came back to him--last summer at Victoire, the meetings on the prairie, that night in the cornfield beside her father's house when she had begged him to "know" her. Had he missed her? Yes; he had to admit that. Did he love her? He was not sure, but, happy as he had been with Redbird, he often thought of Nancy and wondered if she still longed for him as she had when he left her. How, without hurting Redbird, who stood next to him watching as he stared down at Nancy, could he explain what this white woman meant to him? He reached out to untie the rope looped around Nancy's back that held her to Wolf Paw's horse. "Do not touch her," Wolf Paw growled. "She is for me, and only for me." No, White Bear thought, he could not let Nancy be kidnapped and raped by this man. Whatever bloody things had been done at Victor, this he must prevent. He readied himself to fight Wolf Paw if he had to. And how would he explain _that_ to Redbird? Wolf Paw slid down from his horse and, one-handed, untied Nancy. Fresh blood was soaking through the cloth around his shoulder--a strip of blue gingham torn from Nancy's dress, White Bear now saw. Weak from his wound, Wolf Paw could not lift Nancy and carry her. Regardless of Wolf Paw's warning, White Bear would not let her fall. He took her from Wolf Paw and eased her to the ground. Her eyelids were fluttering. Redbird, bending awkwardly with her swollen belly, helped him. Their eyes met, and she looked searchingly into his. A woman's voice cried, "The pale eyes squaw is _not_ for you, Wolf Paw. I will not have her in my wickiup." Running Deer, the older of Wolf Paw's two wives, strode up to Wolf Paw, thrusting her face into his. Behind her came Burning Pine, the younger wife, a papoose strapped to her back, looking equally determined. "My wives will do as I say," Wolf Paw grumbled, but there was no strength in his voice. Burning Pine said, "Your wives and children are hungry. We are eating roots and bark. We have no food for any pale eyes." For now, Black Hawk's band was hidden away on an island of dry ground in the heart of a great marsh north of the headwaters of the Rock River, well into the Michigan Territory. But there was scarcely any game or fish here, and they could not stay in this place much longer. Wolf Paw said, "I have brought cattle."