'What will you do?' she asked.
'I am a Hard Shield. I will fight.'
He had hoped she would embrace his decision but she said nothing.
He gazed at the bulge in her dress where the baby they had conceived was showing and stroked it lightly.
'Maybe you should go in,' he whispered.
Hunting For Something shook her head.
“Are you sure?'
“Yes.'
Taking her time, she stretched out on her side and laid her head in his lap while Smiles A Lot looked across the fire at the sleeping head —- his little brother.
'I am going to send Rabbit with Kicking Bird,' he said.
“He won't go.' she retorted.
Smiles A Lot didn't argue because he knew she was right. Rabbit could never be induced to leave.
'What did Grandfather say?' she asked.
'He is going to meet the Great White Father.'
Hunting For Something raised her head.
'The Great White Father?'
'Yes.'
“Where will he meet him?'
'In the place called Washington.'
'When?'
'I think they are going tomorrow He says he will die when he returns home.'
Hunting For Something didn't move, but her husband felt a tensing in the parts of her body that touched him.
'I must see him,' she said, her voice suddenly a whisper.
Then she got up, and, because the nights were turning colder with the advent of fall, she pulled a robe over her shoulders and wrapped it around her reedy frame.
She started out of the lodge, then hesitated, and looked back at Smiles A Lot.
'I might stay with him tonight.'
Chapter XLI
Fatigue had so overwhelmed him that his body seemed to weigh nothing. He could imagine it as a cloud, suspended just above ground, and each time he drifted into the warm haze of unconsciousness, he saw himself in effortless ascent, a phenomenon of the psyche so compelling that it kept him half-awake.
But the old man knew that his tired body was not wholly to blame for keeping him from sleep; rather, it was his mind that made rest impossible. It was crackling with an energy that he would have been hard-pressed to describe. Disconnected ideas and images and statements and even entire scenarios appeared out of nowhere to glide through the portals of his mind, and all Ten Bears could do was watch helplessly as the spectacle went on and on.
From time to time he would-for how long he did not into the twilight edges of sleep, but he was constantly waking with eyes to some new entertainment, the latest of which was a dizzying series of moments from his boyhood, when he perceived the soft tones of a girl's voice whispering, 'Grandfather.' In his mind he could see her soft, unwrinkled lips moving as the word was formed.
The whispering would stop for a few seconds before the word came again, tunneling into his head like a call from afar.
When in addition to hearing the whisper he imagined he might be smelling the speaker's breath, Ten Bears suspected he might actually be awake. His eyes fluttered and opened. A form was in front of him. It was opaque and, because he was lying on his side, he could not tell if it was that of a man or a woman, but it seemed as if someone must be in the lodge with him.
'Grandfather?'
It was the same voice, and now Ten Bears was sure it belonged to a girl. With a grunt of acknowledgment, he pushed himself up on an elbow, at the same time opening the bony hand that clutched his spectacles.
Fumbling with the arms of the frame, he slipped the miraculous things onto his nose and the luminous eyes of his granddaughter stared down at him.
'Grandfather?'
'Hunting For Something.'
'Are you all right?'
'I'm having difficulty sleeping tonight.'
'I won't disturb you, then. . '
'No, no,' the old man said, waving off the notion with his free hand. 'I'm fine. Stay awhile. Spread your robe and lie down and we will talk. I'm tired of trying to sleep.'
Hunting For Something did as he suggested. She laid the robe down like a blanket, stretched out, and, in imitation of her grandfather across the fire, propped herself on an elbow They looked like bookends.
'You like the cool air?' he asked.
'Yes. . Are you going to that Washington?'
“Yes.'
'Aren't you afraid they will kill you?'
'Noooo,' Ten Bears laughed, 'I'm to be a guest. I don't think even the whites kill their guests: I've never heard that they do that. Are you afraid for me, Granddaughter?'
'Maybe I should go with you,' she said. 'I could take care of you.” 'I think I'll have plenty of help. Kicking Bird is coming. I think Touch The Clouds is, too. And some Cheyenne and Arapaho men.” 'Will they make your pemmican?' she asked slyly.
'No,' Ten Bears replied, laughing again, 'but you can make up some for me to take.'
Hunting For Something's affection for her grandfather was apart from what she felt for anything else. It was purer, and, with the simplicity of a lover, she nodded at him dreamily. She would do anything for her grandfather.
'When that's gone,' Ten Bears continued jovially, 'I guess I'll be at the mercy of white man food.' Ten Bears raised his eyes in a comic, knowing way. 'Whatever that is.'
As they laughed together, Hunting For Something blurted out, 'I would be afraid to eat white man food.'
'I'm curious about it,' Ten Bears said, smoothly shifting tone. 'It's strange. . a man with as many winters as I — all those seasons behind me — I am still wondering. I'm very curious to see what I can see in Washington with these new eyes.'
Unable to resist the constant temptation, Ten Bears let his eyes roam the lodge, and he marveled at the clarity of objects and the shadows that shrouded them. While he was gazing, Hunting For Something's hushed voice came to him once more.
'I don't want you to cross the stars yet.'
The old man swung his head back. He reached over and patted hand.
“The Mystery has been calling me for a long time. I have to answer.” 'I want you to stay with us.'
Ten Bears smiled.
'We will all be together someday.'
Hunting For Something did not look reassured.
'You love the Mystery?' he asked.
