He saw pain tightening the muscles of her face. Her lips trembled as they parted. Only a few times had he seen her in such distress, and his heart beat harder. What was wrong?
"You must come back to Saukenuk, my son," she said.
"I have found my medicine stick, Mother. But now I must trim it here and peel the bark in the place where I found it. Owl Carver told me how it must be done."
She swept a hand across her body to say no to that. "It is Owl Carver who says you must come now. Leave the stick here. The spirits will protect it, and you can come back to it later. A man has come to our village. You must meet him."
Tears on her brown cheeks reflected the bright sun.
"What is wrong, Mother? Who is this man?"
Again the hand gesture, rejecting his question. "It is better you see for yourself."
"But you are sad, Mother. Why?"
She turned away, the fringe of her doeskin skirt swirling about her shins.
He laid the severed oak branch at the base of the tree he had cut it from, and with thanks to Grandfather Oak, turned away.