According to the story his uncle had told him, those lines of red paint made on the faces of the warriors of all five of the nations—that had once lived together as brothers—came to be because of one man. Long ago, that young man fought a monster bear and defeated it—using only a stone knife. Before the young man’s knife found the huge animal’s heart, that bear’s claws had raked across the man’s face leaving lines of blood. Signs of courage, of determination to fight and win.

Okwaho came out of the tunnel through the blackberry vines. He looked either way, seeing no one. Still, he crouched for a moment on the trail, thinking about what he should do next. Should he follow the trail that led straight to their little village?

No.

The men who’d chased him might be turning back now. Not having seen him or found his trail, they might now be placing themselves to wait between where they had last seen him and his village downstream on Long Creek.

Once again, he wished that he were older, that he had a bow and arrows, a spear or a war club.

When you strike an enemy with a club, aim for the temple. That is where your enemy’s skull will be the weakest.

That was what his uncle had told him, easily tossing his own war club with the round stone fastened in its head from one hand to the other as he spoke.

He pictured himself creeping up on them from behind—then striking!

But he was not a grown man.

It would take longer, but making a big circle would be the safest and wisest thing for Okwaho to do. He should head directly away from his home and then gradually turn to swing wide and approach it from the other direction. He might still reach home before Grandmother Moon’s face rose into the sky.

Okwaho stood, took a deep breath, turned, and began to run.

chapter two

THE VILLAGE

Dusk was still two hands away from settling its blanket over the hills when Okwaho finally reached their small village nestled between the hills where Long Creek made a great bend. They called their hidden village Kanata. All the trees and brush had been cleared away for a circle around their village as far as any arrow might fly. It had taken much work, but now the land was open all the way down to the creek edge where the corn field had been planted.