"Yes," said Auguste.
"And it is not foolish to fear. There are some people here who will hate you just because you are a red man. There are people who will be afraid of you. But there are dangers in the life you come from—fire and flood, sickness, bears and wolves, the Sioux and Osage, enemies of your people. You fear those things, but you have been taught how to live with those dangers. There are other people here, people like myself, who will care for you and protect you and teach you how to live with the dangers of the pale eyes' world. You must come to know these people who will help you. I want you to be glad you came from Saukenuk to Victoire."
Auguste did not answer. They sat in silence for a while. Then Pierre spoke again.
"The pale eyes are here, Auguste, and you must learn to live with us."
Auguste sighed and settled down again. He listened to the buzzing of locusts rise and fall.
If my vision of this man meant something, then come to me now, White Bear, and tell me what I must do.
He carried a handful of bits of magic mushroom in a saddlebag, but several times since his spirit journey the White Bear had spoken to him without the help of the mushroom and without his mind leaving his body. All he needed to do, sometimes, was sit quietly and listen. He waited now, sometimes looking at Pierre, sometimes looking at the twigs and moss and grass on the ground.
Perhaps no spirit can reach me here in the land of the pale eyes.
He was about to give up and get to his feet. He would beg Pierre to let him go back to the Sauk.
Then a voice spoke deep and clear in his mind, and it was not his voice.