But, just as I was gathering my courage to do so, a whisper was heard among the many people lined up at the door. The buzz grow louder. The crowd suddenly backed up, parting on both sides to allow a large open space. Something was outside the longhouse and coming in.

We all looked up.

My mother gasped. She was startled at the sight of my brother White Feather walking heavily through the open doorway with Ramco and Creek on either side. At first, I did not clearly see what the others saw, my brother unable to support himself, dazed, and stumbling, held up by the strong arms of his companions.

I sat still, afraid to move, frozen in place, while my mother automatically rose. The longhouse grew quiet as my brother fell to her feet.

She bent over him as he opened his eyes and looked up at her face. Their eyes met, and she bent to touch his arms. Her look was tender yet questioning.

Creek and Ramco had stepped back out of sight, but not before Ramco shot a quick look at my sister and not before Creek received a look of gratitude from a stunned Tah-neh-wa.

What had happened to my brother, White Feather? Had the bear wounded him in the hunt?

I shifted to get a clearer view. I had never seen him like this.

As he entered, everyone watched him. He had moved slowly, slumped forward, dragging his feet, almost as if he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders, as if he carried the unbearable weight of the huge black bear, slung across his back.

Only he didn't carry the bear.

It only seemed that way, as he moved with apparent difficulty, for, as we found out later, the bear still lay on the banks of the river to be retrieved later.