They did return, all of them. Apparently, the man with shoulder straps chose discretion over valor. I must applaud his good sense. The lieutenant did tell a newspaper reporter later that he was responsible for slowing down our retreat, but this is not true. Our march slowed because Looking Glass was our leader.

Unlike Hawk, I have to give Looking Glass the benefit of the doubt. His rise to leadership coincided with the fight at the Bear Paws, but he was not leading people who in their full strength had fled from Lapwai months ago, and whose talent and energy had been hemorrhaging every step of the way. The People could not miraculously raise from the dead those warriors who had given their all at what is now called White Bird Canyon, or Camas, or Big Hole, or Canyon Creek. He could not replenish food supplies. He could not reset the clock to summer, when winter was close at hand. When he died at Bear Paw, I doubt anyone was happier about it than Looking Glass, himself. Forlorn hopes and thankless tasks are well-named.

Now to my last chance. When Looking Glass and his warriors returned at mid-morning, Hawk and Poker Joe didn’t change mounts for rested horses, but came directly to me and Blue Mountain Woman as we rode steadily on. Chief Joseph was with them, so we pulled out of the line of travel.

Joseph spoke and Hawk interpreted, as usual. Like so many of The People, Joseph had rudimentary English skills, but I know he has always felt more comfortable with an interpreter, at least, one he can trust. Through the years, some of the newspaper reporters seem to have taken a fanciful approach to his words. (Note to self: More on this later, when he became a bit of a celebrity.)

“He tells you that trail riders have found a white man and woman. We will leave you there.”

I shook my head as the memory of the last attempt came back like an unexpected slap on the back. I put my hand to my throat, where the wrangler’s fingermarks at least were no longer visible. I felt that pain all over again. “No.”

More conferring. “Joseph says you will be safe this time. He won’t take no.”

I had no choice, as I had had no choice for weeks. I pulled Fair One toward the men but stopped, more unwilling, when Blue Mountain Woman began to wail. “I can’t leave her,” I tried, but I knew my argument was feeble and destined to die aborning.

“Sorry, he says. He had decided.”

Hawk faced me and not Chief Joseph, so I saw all the sympathy in his eyes. Still, I had to obey. I joined the men, but looked back at Blue Mountain Woman, which only made her mourn louder. I felt worse than before.