Auguste remembered his dream of becoming a shaman. It had come back to life a bit with his effort to heal Pierre. Among the pale eyes there was no room for magic. But now he felt he could go back to his own people and find magic again.
Hale said, "An unwise decision, it seems to me. You've been educated. You've had an opportunity to learn about white Christian civilization. Your uncle can't take that away from you, and you should not throw it away."
Auguste said, "Reverend, you know what I'm leaving behind. But you don't know what I'm going back to."
Nancy started speaking rapidly, as if she was trying to hold back tears. "Well, what about these things of yours that Marchette brought here? There's no way you can carry a trunk on foot even as far as Nicole and Frank's house. Would you like us to keep your things here for you? Perhaps someday, after you've settled with your tribe"—she swallowed hard—"you could send for them."
Auguste heard the anguish in her voice but decided to take her words at only face value. "Yes, I'd be truly grateful if you'd keep them for me. The only thing I want to take now is my medicine bundle."
Reverend Hale pursed his lips and snorted, but Auguste ignored him.
Auguste thought a moment. "And I can use the surgical instruments. And at least one book."
"Let it be a Bible," said Hale. Auguste made no answer to that.
As Eli Greenglove struck him down, Auguste remembered, he had been charging at Raoul with his knife in his hand.