"Please do it, Father," Redbird whispered.
She wanted to shout it aloud. But she held her tongue. She remembered with pain the derision of Wolf Paw and the others when she spoke out at the war council.
She bit her lip. Maybe, by speaking out that time, she had turned people away from the path she wanted them to take. She would not make that mistake again.
Owl Carver said, "Black Hawk has always been my chief. I follow where he leads."
Redbird groaned. Now she wished she had spoken out.
Eagle Feather stirred beside her. Heart frozen, she looked down at him. But he was motionless again.
Wave turned next to Wolf Paw, who closed his eyes, bowed his head and made no move to accept the pipe. Redbird saw that the red crest on his head was faded and limp.
She could only watch as the two Winnebago went from man to man in the circle of firelight, holding out the pipe, each man refusing.
"Please," Wave pleaded, "is there not a man here wise and strong enough to smoke the calumet and save the lives of his people? Please—more pain and death is needless."
In a day or two a war band of Winnebago would come after Black Hawk's party. They would greatly outnumber these fifty people. They would have rifles with plenty of powder and shot, given to them by the long knives. They would slaughter the men and take the women and children into captivity.