"Everyone seems content with their bellies full of grizzly meat. It is a fine gift from one of our best hunters and a new young warrior who will now sit with our council. I see that you both endured much suffering in order to bring this great gift. The the clan will be satisfied for many days with the fruit of your great generosity. Many seem to be ill at ease, though, that the Paccus will probably know there is a Minnecou encampment close by to them...that they may send scouts to find out more about us. As I understand what occurred between Petawahin, Sequannah, and the Paccus, there was no cause for anger or disagreement. However, it would be wise for us to send out scouts and find their village as soon as possible. Then we will have knowledge of them at the same time that they may discover our own encampment. If Petawahin could give us an account of the incident, we may use this to discover their camp and know a little more about them."

Petawahin told of how they had been hunting for geese with decoys when they hear noises, then found a place to hide in the rushes. There was much laughter as Petawahin imitated the grunting and moaning of the two Paccus.

"I saw the grizzly stand up looking for the human scent that was irritating him, but before I could stop him, Sequannah ran out to warn the Paccus. I ran after him, but the two Paccus thought we were attacking them. The warrior sent his woman off towards the direction of the summer wind and bravely stood alone against us. But, when we pointed out the bear behind him, he jumped into the water in time to avoid being mauled. The bear was in a rage and came in after us. We split up and the bear went after the Paccu. I came up behind the bear and thrust my spear into his side, but he did not die. When he turned on me, Sequannah threw his spear and hit the bear in the throat. The foolish Paccu started poking the bear with his spear. The bear was confused, but he went after the Paccu. I attacked the bear from behind again and cut his throat with my knife, but it was too short to kill him. He threw me off and began to claw and bite at me."

"The Paccu and Sequannah both attacked him again and he let me go. The bear was hurt, but he was still dangerous. We got out of the water. Sequannah and the Paccu tried to keep the bear from getting out of the water. The Paccu picked up two stones and hit the bear with them; one of them hit the bear in the eye, the other was very close. The bear sank, and I thought it was dead because it took a long time to come up again. But when he did come up, I threw a heavy rock on his head, and his spirit flew away," Petawahin made a flapping gesture with his hands. "We cut the bear into quarters, while the Paccu made two travois. He dragged his off to the west and we came around the pond to the east."

"Their camp must be a good distance from that pond," Ketanka determined. "Otherwise the girl would have been able to get help for the Paccu warrior. But also, they may have been right behind you all the way back here."

"We threw the travois away and used carrying poles instead so that we would leave no trail," Petawahin explained, "...but I'm not sure that the Paccu could afford to do the same; he was alone and his load was too heavy to carry."

The chief nodded approval, "So he may have left a trail if we are quick enough to follow."

Ketanka looked to the Washan, the clan's seer and healer. The Washan was always asked what unseen difficulties might lie in the path of the clan. His intuition was accurate much more often than not, and his insight and observations compensated wherever his instinct was lacking. Sometimes his insights were genuinely prophetic, though these could be counted on one hand over the years he has been Washan.

"How long before rain?" croaked the heavy chief.

"Maybe thunder and rain tomorrow night, maybe not," replied the seer. "The Paccus throw rocks for weapons?" the Washan asked. "From what Petawahin tells us, they are very accurate."

"They could be dangerous warriors," the chief thought aloud. "But they do not cover their trail sign, and they do not seem to be aware of who may be around them, which could make life very dangerous for them," Ketanka encouraged his warriors.

"Sequannah seemed more reliable a warrior than the Paccu," Petawahin added. "The Paccu was brave, but foolish as well. But he was also very young. Two...three winters older than Sequannah."

"Many young warriors start out brave but foolish," Ketanka bellowed as he turned to Sequannah. "You have obviously showed your potential as a warrior," Ketanka praised him. "And we trust that eventually you will learn to make wise decisions quickly, as well, when it should become necessary. Think of the people first, then of your own survival, and the survival of strangers last. While it is possible that we may make good and lasting friendships in the future because of your actions, they also may not be the type of people we would want to call friend. What was your opinion of the Paccus you had met?"

"They did not seem to be bad people," Sequannah announced, honored to have his opinion requested at his first council meeting. "The woman was very pretty, but she ran as soon as she saw us coming at them. The warrior was very brave. He was going to fight both of us before the bear came. He held the bear off with his spear and the bear was never quick enough to hurt him. When we split up the meat, he was going to give us most of it and he gave us the hide. He also built a travois for us to carry the meat. He did not seem to be an enemy."

"Petawahin," Ketanka requested. "What did you think of the Paccus."

"I cannot tell by what little I could understand of them. The brave was foolish, like many young braves are. If he had any sense he would have run off with his woman. He was brave, as Sequannah has said. However, his reason for giving us the meat may have been so that we would let him live. And he may have built the travois so that it would be easier to follow us back to our camp. He wanted to give us three quarters of the meat, but I insisted he take half. This would make it harder for him to discard his travois, and we could not bring that much meat back here without it all going bad. With Sequannah's help, we could discard the travois and carry the meat back in a manner which would still allow us to conceal our tracks. But, from what I have seen, it still remains a question as to whether the Paccus are to be trusted or not."

"Trust does not begin with one act alone," said Ketanka. "Trust will only come after we have known and dealt with them over a period of time. Suspicion may make this period of time much longer, but the consequences could be grave if we were to consider them honorable before we truly know them. I know, Petawahin, that you have just returned from a long hunt, and that you have been wounded as well, but I must ask you to go back as soon as possible and see if you can find the Paccu's trail and their village. Take Quitkwa with you. The Wolf brothers will stay in the camp to protect the clan. Sequannah will watch from the top of the cliffs. Mokotak will guard the trail to the south of the lake. That will be the Paccus' most likely route if they have good scouts. Washan, stay in the camp so you can warn us if you sense any unforeseen danger. No one else will go any where west of the encampment, including the lake. The women and children will have to go to the east to gather berries and whatever else they have to do to prepare us to leave before midday tomorrow. Quebathe and Shatomi will keep watch over them wherever they go."

Petawahin reached into his moccasin, revealing the long, black obsidian blade he'd discovered in the spring. All eyes were fixed on the object as Petawahin displayed its unique craftsmanship.

"A Paccu blade?" Ketanka inquired.

"The Paccu we saw had a smaller gray stone on the end of his spear," Petawahin replied. "But some of their better warriors may have black ones like these. I found this a short distance from here, near the spring over the first ridge west of here. It is larger than any blade I have seen. It's a spearhead,...maybe for large buffalo or grizzly."

Petawahin passed the artifact around and each one who received it found different qualities in the unique blade. Tamahna held the projectile up to the fire as he felt the sharp edges, and noticed that he could see through this stone where it became thin. As he held it closer to his eye, he saw the fire blazing through the center.

"The stone looks black, but it is clear," declared Tamahna.

Ketanka looked through the object and felt its weight and sleekness. "We must find some of this stone," Ketanka demanded. "It is a powerful stone, and if others have it, then we will need the same."

Ketanka handed the stone back to Petawahin and told him it would be best if he could leave with Quitkwa. "It would be best if we all left now," Ketanka bellowed. "I will relieve you from time to time so that each of you will have time to rest."

The men filed out of the council lodge, though the sun had not yet set. Each went to his respective hut to prepare for the night ahead. All of the dome-shaped wickiups were fashioned from bent spruce or pine boughs covered with grass and bark to insure that the huts remained dry. Each had a firepit in the center and animal skins on top guided by long poles to act as smoke flaps. The entrances faced toward the east so that the sun would be their first sight in the morning and to ward off the prevalent westerly winds with the thickly thatched backsides of the wickiups.

Petawahin and Sequannah went to the hut they now shared. Sequannah had been living in Petawahin's lodge for only the past two moons. He had grown to the age where it was no longer practicable for him to stay with his sister and grandmother, but still, he spent most nights alone in the hut. Petawahin was usually either hunting or scouting ahead for the clan. He had been living alone for the past eleven years, since the death of Sequannah's mother. She died of the coughing sickness. One moon to the next saw her change from a sniffle to ashen-faced wheezing. Petawahin was shocked and grief-stricken. For years, he wouldn't stay in the camp but for brief periods. During this time, his mother and father looked after Shamira and Sequannah while he went out on his long, solitary wanderings. He nearly always came back with meat, and once in a while he would bring back things that had been left behind by other tribes. Often he marveled that these things could have been lost anywhere from moments to generations ago and sometimes there were no clues to tell him the difference. On his lonely treks he often discovered beautiful places that he would describe to the clan. Many times, the whole clan would just pack up and move at his word. The camp they were situated at now was one of Petawahin's discoveries from nearly five years earlier, and the Minnecou had returned there every summer since. Nine or ten days walk from here, was another one of Petawahin's discoveries; now their northernmost outpost before they returned southward to the winter villages. Once every moon or half moon, they would pack up and move everything they needed that would not be readily available at the next encampment. Each year, they traveled from the small farming villages where snow never falls, all the way to the foothills of the Dark Mountains and back again by the following winter. They moved frequently so that the game and wild fruits, nuts and tubers remained plentiful. Petawahin had a great influence on their travel patterns and was often scouting for new sites while he hunted. But his desire to constantly seek out newer and more exotic retreats for the people not only separated him from his family, but left the clan increasingly isolated from the other Minnecou bands.

Sequannah barely remembered his mother; she was gone before he saw his third winter. Shamira, however, had the similarly sad, though wizened expression of her father. Four years older than Sequannah, she remembered the secure and intimate family that once shared the same fire.

Now, at eighteen, she was relatively old to be unmarried and without children. But during the past few years, they had been ranging further west and contact with the other Minnecou clans had been cut off during most of the year. Many thought that she looked more beautiful than her mother, Mesarah, and felt that it was shameful for her father to allow her to live on in loneliness. She, herself, felt that Petawahin was using his influence with the band to keep her isolated. She didn't want to marry into one of the families in the Minnecou villages to the south because she knew she would never be happy. Even though the villagers were called relative to the wandering clans, their ways were vastly different. They contemplated the spirits over their corn and tobacco fields. They spent their lives working in the dirt and repairing their enormous lodges. All of the ceremonies that took place on the trail were unknown to most of the villagers. But now, as she got older, a certain fear began to creep into her lonely life. Her wandering lifestyle was turning to isolation, and the stable, stationary ways of the south became increasingly appealing. Living with the clan was different for Sequannah; as a warrior, he would have more freedom to roam between the different clans and other tribes. But she had to stay mostly within their temporary encampments tending to the needs of the band. Petawahin sensed that she was becoming restless, and knew that if he didn't put her in contact with the right type of men--the kind he would find suitable as potential husbands for her--he would regret it. But, this year's travels were nearly set to wind down with their return south, and still he hadn't managed to merge with one of the other clans and break the bonds of her isolation. Perhaps the other clans had ranged much further east to avoid the Snake people. It had been said that the big river swarmed with these strange people. Perhaps the other clans could no longer cross so easily.

Petawahin found it difficult to believe that the grotesque people from the ancient legends could suddenly return. The stories had been passed along for so many generations that most people no longer believed in them. Although they were said to be sacred and true, Petawahin had always thought them to be for entertainment, or to teach valuable lessons in a way that would be easy for children to remember.

Sequannah hunched over the hearth in his father's hut, tying his leggings and gathering food and weapons for the long night ahead. He took a pinch of his father's smoking mixture along with a small pipe he he'd fashioned out of a ball of clay and an old discarded pipe stem. He never knew what was in the mixture, but it was often different. Sometimes it would make him dizzy and nauseous, while at other times, he would feel pleasingly soothed.

There were usually many good sources of smoking herbs in the vicinity of Petawahin's discoveries; this was considered an added pleasure by many of the adults in the clan. While the Washan leaned toward the more narcotic herbs, most seemed to enjoy the milder mixtures.

Petawahin was also preparing. He took his best bow and a quiver of arrows, a chert knife and his spear, some meat and berries, and a sac of water. He would leave the black spearhead with his father, Kwoita, to fasten onto a meticulously crafted shaft, balanced for hunting.

"You would have been going with me if it wasn't for your behavior with the Paccus," Petawahin wanted Sequannah to know why Quitkwa had been chosen instead.

"I know," said Sequannah. "That's why I didn't complain when I was told to watch by the cliffs."

"If you had spoken one word of complaint, you would have found yourself regretting. Your ears would still hear cricket song now. It is good that you know. You will learn to control yourself and gain the respect that you and the rest of us both need from each other. Keep your eyes open. I should be back tomorrow. Take care of the family."

Petawahin left the young man alone and walked on to his father's hut. Kwoita sat solemnly smoking his pipe, but a smile appeared as his son walked through the familiar old elk-hide flap. This same flap had always protected Kwoita's huts. Petawahin's mother had died several years earlier, and so the old man lived in the way of his son. Sequannah and Shamira's maternal grandmother set up camp with Ketanka's roving Minnecou when she heard of her death so the children could remain among their friends and relatives and still have a proper upbringing. Kwoita and Petawahin both brought meat to Meequaw's hut. She was in much the same position with the Titank Minnecou before she came here. Her husband was killed long ago in one of the large stone cities far to the south of the Minnecou wintering areas. She was told that the earth trembled and he was covered with stones. When he never returned, she knew him to be dead.

While living with the Titank Minnecou, she cared for orphaned or lonely young children, and the camp would provide for her in return. She left the Titank Minnecou in favor of caring for her own blood relatives. Bitter old women were often left to fend for themselves. Meequaw, though, would never be subjected to this type of rejection, because she was revered by every known clan of the Minnecou tribe, and her pleasant manner was always welcome. Petawahin had hoped that Kwoita and Meequaw would have married, but instead, their relationship never grew beyond their constant playful teasing and humorous insults.

Kwoita often spent time teaching Sequannah how to fish, but he was mostly reciting the old legends and relating the wisdom of the ancient ones. With Kwoita being the oldest of all the northernmost Minnecou, Petawahin felt proud to have some of the forgotten stories and traditions being handed down to his son. He handed the long, black projectile to his father.

"Make me a shaft to use with this as a spear," he requested. "I'm leaving tonight with Quitkwa to find the Paccu village, and rather than make one for myself, I would prefer that your wisdom be entrusted with making the shaft for such a powerful blade."

Kwoita's smile widened at his son's praise. He turned the blade over and over, measuring every angle and admiring the uniqueness of the spearhead.

"This was made for animals much larger than any I've seen, but not larger than those I've heard of. Long ago, when I was a boy, we used to go to the salty water at the mouth of the great muddy river. Some people from the stone cities far to the south stayed at our beach for a time. They came in a very large canoe. One of them spoke of huge fish in the sea, some of them much longer than the canoe they came in, and there were fourteen people in that canoe with food and many trading goods."

"He told of huge animals that lived in caves far to the south and east of the beach where they stayed. And he also told of people who lived far to the north and east of the great muddy river who had spoken of huge animals with long noses and big ears. When he saw the council pipe, he said that these must be the same animals. Maybe one of these animals is what this blade was used for," Kwoita mused, though he didn't know whether to believe if they actually existed or not.

"It will be good for buffalo," Petawahin stated. "I wish I could stay longer, but I must meet Quitkwa and find the Paccu camp.v "And Sequannah?" Kwoita questioned.

"He'll be staying here, keeping watch from the cliffs," said Petawahin.

"I'm glad he was accepted," mused Kwoita. "I wouldn't want to look after a long-faced young warrior."

"I'll be back by tomorrow," Petawahin cut his father short. He quickly walked to the hut where he found Quitkwa waiting, and they commenced their westward journey, picking their way through the swampy trail at the southern end of the lake.

Sequannah sat alone in his lodge. He pulled a burning twig from the fire and held it to the long-stemmed pipe he'd filled with Petawahin's smoking mixture. This kind looked different than any he'd smoked before. His lungs felt cool as he drew the smoke in deeper. He held the smoke in his lungs for a short time, a smile of confidence and contentment radiated from the young warrior's face as he slowly leaned unto his backrest. As he exhaled, he felt the coolness spread to his throat and lungs. But as he drew in his next breath, he felt a sudden twitch in his chest and began to cough. With his next breath, he began to choke and cough uncontrollably. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he dumped the contents of the bowl into the fire. He reached for the sac of water and guzzled its entire contents. His mouth began to burn and he spit out the remainder as he recognized the hot peppery flavor that had been laced into the drink. Even more tears began to stream down his face and he was nearly blinded as he felt his face flush, red and burning.

He took out the small pouch he had used to hide the mixture he had stolen from Petawahin and dumped its contents under a stone by the side of the fire. This was his punishment for stealing his father's mixture. He was still coughing when he heard a scratching on the flap of the wickiup. Lifting the flap and peering out into the twilight, Sequannah found Sabatt standing meekly outside of the lodge. He had a small bow draped on his shoulder and a bundle under his arm.

"I'll go with you tonight," Sabatt posed, almost in question.

"Ketanka told you to come with me?" Sequannah questioned the twelve-year-old.

"No."

"Your father says you can go?"

"No."

"Why don't you ask them?" Sequannah asked.

"They will say no."

"Then how can I help you?" Sequannah asked in sympathy.

"You are a warrior now," Sabatt shifted on his feet, "And you are in the council. I could ask you."

"No," Sequannah said softly. "Ketanka has already decided how things will be done and everyone agreed. We can't change anything now without another council meeting. Some of the warriors have already left." Sequannah paused for a moment until he saw the disappointment in Sabatt's face. "Why aren't you with your brothers? I'll bet they're having fun."

"I cannot become a warrior by having fun," Sabatt said stubbornly. "They are still children. That's still good for them."

Sequannah thought for a moment. "I need a warrior to do something for me, and I don't think there will be need of a council meeting," he announced.

"I can do it!" Sabatt volunteered.

"It's getting dark now and I need someone who's not afraid to be out in the night," Sequannah warned.

"I'm not afraid," Sabatt smirked.

"I need someone to go all the way to the edge of the camp and watch for me while I climb the cliffs. I may not be able to see enemies in the darkness if they should try to follow me," Sequannah whispered.

"I'll do it," Sabatt said bravely.

"Good," Sequannah breathed a sigh of relief. "If you see anyone out there, go and tell Ketanka right away. Don't stop for anything. My life could be in danger and so could yours."

"I can do it. Nothing will stop me."

"As soon as I get to the top of the cliffs, though, you'll have to go back to your lodge," Sequannah told the boy. "We'll both be in trouble if someone has to call for you. Remember, this was not mentioned in the council meeting. It's just something that smart warriors do."

"Okay!" Sabatt said with a big grin on his face.

"Do you have arrows for that bow?" Sequannah questioned. Sabatt displayed the quiver on his back.

"Got a knife?"

Sabatt shook his head.

"Go home and get your knife and meet me at the fire pit," Sequannah demanded.

"Okay," Sabatt smiled and ran off to the other side of the encampment.

Sequannah took his pouch and pipe and hid them under his buffalo robe. Moments later, he pulled them back out and placed them on top of his bed.