White Bear had left with Owl Carver everything he valued: his medicine stick, his Sauk medicine bag and his other bag of pale eyes' medical instruments, his megis-shell necklace, his brass and silver ornaments, his Paradise Lost, the deerhorn-handled knife his father had long ago given him. He had nothing with him but the clothing he wore, fringed buckskin leggings and a buckskin vest decorated with blue and green quillwork in diamond patterns.
He looked back and saw five mounted braves an arrow flight behind him on the prairie. Even from this distance he could tell that the tall one in the middle was Iron Knife. They would watch from hiding and would report back to Black Hawk how the long knives treated his peace messengers. Black Hawk himself, with Owl Carver, the Winnebago Prophet, Wolf Paw and about forty braves, waited a few miles farther up the Rock River at the place where he had met with the Potawatomi chiefs.
White Bear saw a small stand of woods ahead. Scouts had reported that beyond those woods, across Old Man's Creek, the long knives had set up camp. Glowing from behind young green leaves, set aflutter by the breeze, the setting sun dropped flecks of gold onto the blackened faces of White Bear's two companions. It would be almost nightfall by the time they encountered the long knives.
Three Horses said, "A man must be more brave, I think, to do this than to ride up to an enemy in battle and strike the first blow at him." His nose curved inward where the bridge should have been. White Bear had learned that a Sioux war club had done that to him while Auguste was studying Latin and geometry at St. George's School.
"I would much rather be fighting the long knives than trying to make peace with them," said Little Crow. "I do not trust them."
White Bear tried to reassure them and himself. "We must do this. It is the only way we can get our people safely back across the Great River."
Little Crow said, "It seems you were right and we who wanted to take up the tomahawk were wrong."
In spite of his fear, White Bear felt a satisfied glow at Little Crow's words. Little Crow had been the one who brought the woman's dress that Wolf Paw had put on him that wretched night of the council.
They did not listen to me that night. The Turtle told me I would not be able to persuade the people not to cross the Great River, but I tried my best.
They entered the wood by way of a narrow trail, riding single file. Little Crow lowered the white flag to keep it from getting caught in the branches.