"How is the baby?" he whispered.
"She had a difficult night," Emma said softly, "but she's sleeping now. Joe, I'm—"
"Yes?" he asked.
"I'm afraid she won't be able to travel for a while."
Joe looked toward the other side of the creek. The three cow elk, sure that the night was a cloak of safety, were grazing unconcernedly. Joe looked at the tall grass that could have grown only in fertile soil. He thought of last evening. Barbara and Ellis had gone wading in the creek. Barbara's legs, bare to the knee, had flashed in the setting sun, and through the clear water small stones that either were white or appeared to be white due to some trick of the water's reflection were plainly seen on the bottom of the creek.
Out in the meadow, a meadow lark piped its greeting to the rising sun. The lark was Joe's totem bird and always a symbol of good luck.
He said with sudden decision, "She won't have to travel. This is the place we came so far to find."