"Show your wisdom, Uncle. Smoke the sacred tobacco." Flying Cloud took a step backward and raised both arms. "It is wrong for the Winnebago to turn against us in our time of need. Go back and tell your Chief Falcon that if he does not join us in making war on the long knives, they will take his land from him as they have taken ours from us." He crossed his arms before his chest. Despairing, Redbird realized that the Winnebago Prophet could not smoke the pipe because that would be admitting that all his advice up to now had been wrong. "What will you do, Sauk shaman?" Wave said to Owl Carver. "Do not the spirits tell you to smoke the calumet?" "Please do it, Father," Redbird whispered. She wanted to shout it aloud. But she held her tongue. She remembered with pain the derision of Wolf Paw and the others when she spoke out at the war council. She bit her lip. Maybe, by speaking out that time, she had turned people away from the path she wanted them to take. She would not make that mistake again. Owl Carver said, "Black Hawk has always been my chief. I follow where he leads." Redbird groaned. Now she wished she had spoken out. Eagle Feather stirred beside her. Heart frozen, she looked down at him. But he was motionless again. Wave turned next to Wolf Paw, who closed his eyes, bowed his head and made no move to accept the pipe. Redbird saw that the red crest on his head was faded and limp. She could only watch as the two Winnebago went from man to man in the circle of firelight, holding out the pipe, each man refusing. "Please," Wave pleaded, "is there not a man here wise and strong enough to smoke the calumet and save the lives of his people? Please--more pain and death is needless." In a day or two a war band of Winnebago would come after Black Hawk's party. They would greatly outnumber these fifty people. They would have rifles with plenty of powder and shot, given to them by the long knives. They would slaughter the men and take the women and children into captivity. _Earthmaker, I beg you, do not let your children die._ She heard a rustling beside her. She gasped in fright and her hands went cold. Eagle Feather was up on his hands and knees. The boy crawled out from under the lean-to, climbed to his feet and stood straight. A half-moon hung over the little lake, and she could see Eagle Feather's set face, one side red with firelight and the other pale white in moonlight. His bright blue eyes fixed on Wave, he strode forward, a small, determined figure. Astonished, Redbird could only stand and watch. How could this be happening? He stood before Wave and held up his hands. For a moment there was silence in the camp, disturbed only by the crackling of the fire and the rustling of the birch leaves around them. "No!" Black Hawk cried, his rasping voice full of anguish. "Do not do it!" "Stop!" The Winnebago Prophet reached for Eagle Feather. Owl Carver quickly blocked his way.