But, Coyote was like a man demented, and he was able to push the wolves away. True, his hand and his legs were now bleeding, but he didn't care.
All he could think of at this moment was this Crow warrior. The man washisto kill. Coyote hadn't survived through all the war party's misfortunes only to run away with nothing to show for it. He was determined: onlyhewould bask in the glory of victory over a man who had shown himself to have the strength of a bull and the cunning of a wolf.
Jumping to his feet, he climbed up into a nearby tree, scooting up it as high as he could. There, he looked down upon the two wolves who were encircling the tree and him. He waited, barely moving. They would leave soon enough. He willed it.
His patience paid off when the two wolves appeared to tire of their prey and left to join their brothers and sisters. Now and again, the two wolves stared back at him, but after a while, they looked his way no more.
It was then that, with the agility of an eagle, Coyote jumped down from the tree and ran into the forest, away from the wolves and into the density of the trees lining the meadow.
He would get his man.
****
Sharon clearly spotted a Cree warrior racing toward the place where both she and Rising Bear were hiding. With adrenaline pumping through her, she pushed her pistol into a good shooting position between the gaps of their shelter, and, holding her gun with both hands, looked clearly into her weapon's sights, aimed at the running figure and pulled the trigger.
She missed!
Bending down to reload, she heard the screeching war cry of the warrior, causing her hands to tremble as she struggled to reload the pistol. She was unaware of Rising Bear coming up to his feet. But, she looked up when she saw movement out the corner of her eye and beheld the young boy who, utilizing no more than the small bow and the tiny arrows he carried, pulled back on the bowstring and let go of his arrow.
"Ha!" Sharon heard the Cree warrior laugh and looked up to see him brush away the arrow as though it were a pesky bee. He then leapt toward her and Rising Bear's shelter.
Again the warrior laughed as he bounded over their protection, and, while Sharon screamed, Rising Bear yet pulled another arrow from his quiver. Quickly the boy placed the arrow against his bow and let it fly.
It found its target, but it did little more than cause the Cree's arm to bleed. However, it had done another thing: it had enraged its recipient, and the man let out a loud war cry.
Meanwhile, Sharon had at last reloaded and was raising her pistol at the Cree when something behind them roared—and it was a mighty roar.
It was a bear! This sound she knew. Worse, it was an angry bear, and it was behind her.
Moving her head only slightly so as to look at it from her peripheral vision, she beheld a terrifying sight: a large, white bear was standing up on its hind legs, and it had positioned itself directly at the rear of Rising Bear. It was in the act of pawing the air with its huge paws, though those paws did not come close to Rising Bear.
Another cry swept through the air, and Sharon looked up to see the Cree warrior backing away. Slowly, step by step, the man put distance between himself and them, until, all at once, the warrior turned around and fled.
The bear suddenly came down on all fours and, without warning, let out a terrible growl.
Was the bear howling at her and the boy…or was it after the warrior? She was not left long to wonder. With a speed she would well remember, the bear bounded after the warrior, almost as though it were protecting her and the boy.
As Sharon looked down at Rising Bear to see his reaction to the bear, she saw him smile at her before he signed, "The white bear is my helper. She has been with me since I entered the forests of these mountains. I have been asking for a helper. She has come to me again."
In reaction, and still shaking because of this brush with death, Sharon fell to her knees and, reaching out, pulled Rising Bear into her arms. She wasn't even aware of when she began to cry.
What a wild and strange, yet wonderful land this was. The white bear had saved them, answering a young seven-year-old child's plea. Never again would she ever take another animal for granted.
****
Staring at the fleeing Cree leader, Strikes Fast was pushed into the awareness of an oddity: it wasn't their battle the Cree was escaping from, it was something else. But, if not the fight, then what was it?
He knew this warrior had to be a seasoned killer. And, he was not a coward. Indeed, from their fight, short as it had been, Strikes Fast was aware the other man was strong, disciplined and brave; the man had inflicted wounds upon Strikes Fast's person.
As Strikes Fast stood still, pondering such strangeness, he breathed in deeply and became aware of an unusual stench. It smelled oddly of wet dog and unwashed flesh. He knew this smell well, remembering the one and only other time he had inhaled the same scent.
Withdrawing his knife from its sheath, he placed it in his teeth, and, with his battle hatchet held up firmly in one hand, Strikes Fast turned slowly around, only to look up, up, up at the gigantic hairy female before him. In horror, he experienced again the feeling of unbridled fear. It washed all over him. And, as it had been five snows ago, so it was now: he couldn't move.
As he stared upward at this Big Person standing so closely to him, another oddity struck him: was it kindness he saw within the giant's gaze? Was she even trying to smile at him?
Then, as quick as though she were a part of the wind, the Big Person turned around and fled, disappearing so suddenly, it was as though she had vanished into nothing.
Strikes Fast couldn't be certain of the emotions cascading through him; they were partly a feeling of horror, but there was also with a good deal of awe when he realized this fact: this big female could have killed him with one single swipe of her gigantic hands.
