White Bear saw Otto Wegner stagger from the trees about a hundred feet to his right. He was trying to run toward the tall man.
He limped badly and let out an "Oh!" of pain with every step.
The tall man set his hat back on his head and ran toward the Prussian, who fell forward on his face in the grass a short distance from the edge of the woods.
Wolf Paw swung the rifle toward Otto, but before he could fire, Otto fell and was almost obscured by the tall grass. The blue-black rifle barrel lifted toward the man going to his aid. White Bear heard Wolf Paw draw a deep breath through his nostrils and saw his finger tighten on the trigger.
Even as the hammer fell and the spark set the powder sizzling in the pan, White Bear thrust his hand out. In the instant between the pulling of the trigger and the firing of the rifle White Bear pushed the barrel off target.
The rifle went off with a boom and a flash and a puff of blue smoke.
The lanky man jerked his head around and stared into the trees where Wolf Paw and White Bear sat hidden on their horses. He shouted and pointed. The long knives spread out between the creek and the woods brought their rifles to their shoulders. Some of them jumped on their horses.
"Why did you do that?" Wolf Paw shouted. It no longer mattered that the long knives could hear him.
He raised his rifle as if to hit White Bear with the butt end, as Eli Greenglove had done many moons ago.
"Come on," said White Bear, ignoring the threat and kicking his horse's sides to start him galloping through the woods. Wolf Paw, who had no time to reload, thundered behind him, uttering shouts of inarticulate rage.