She fell asleep with her head on his chest.
Daylight and a loud chorus of birdsong woke them. Soon after they started riding, they passed through an empty village of bark-covered lodges, Winnebago he was sure, beside the river. Winnebago friends of Black Hawk had said that the long knives had ordered all Winnebago to camp within sight of the forts to show that they were not helping Black Hawk.
A clear trail led south from the village along the riverbank, and White Bear, Nancy and Woodrow rode along it. By the end of the day they should be near the settlement of Prairie du Chien and the long knives' Fort Crawford.
When the sun was high over the river, White Bear heard a sound that sent fear rustling down his back—the drawn-out shouts of long knife leaders calling orders. The cries came from somewhere to the south.
With horror, he saw it at once in his mind: One long knife army coming from the east. Now another marching up from the south. Both heading for the mouth of the Bad Axe where the people were trying desperately to get across the river.
A little later he heard the rumble of many hooves.
He wanted to turn and gallop back to warn the band. They had no notion that this second army, much closer to them, was coming.
Nancy said, "You'd better leave us here. They'll shoot at you."
Fear for himself and for his people tempted him to agree, but he firmly shook his head.
"I must stay with you until I'm sure you're safe. It is a matter only of minutes."