Walks Alone had looked sulkily at his father but his authority was unshakable. He picked up the one-and-a-half year-old girl and waddled away under her weight towards the edge of the camp.

It was a new summer grazing site, and he was excited that he would be able to explore where he had never been. Narrow-leaf cottonwood and aspens fronted a forest of pine, and he headed for its dense bulk to search for deadfall. She weighed so much and was making his burden more difficult as she gurgled and kicked in delight to be lifted in her brother’s arms. Behind him, the sounds of camp were comforting. Dogs barking, horses snorting and the shout of one man to another. He had grunted into the woods with his sister, elated at the thought of the summer that lay ahead.

The edge of the forest with its elderberry and honeysuckle was not interesting to him and he hitched his bundle up in his arms as he headed deeper into the tall trees. It was beautiful. The scent of sweet pine resin rising from the hot forest floor and the sunlight filtering through the high canopy of branches was magical. The undergrowth was full of deadfall as he’d hoped, and the pick of firewood was endless. Then he had remembered that he had not brought the willow basket that he wore on his back. How was he to fetch the wood home with his sister to carry? He sighed and put her down. She fell heavily on her bottom, picked up a twig and put it to her mouth, took it out again and talked to it in that secret language that only she and her mother seemed to comprehend. What to do?

Walks Alone had decided he could run back to camp quickly enough and bring the basket without his sister even noticing. She was happy on her seat of twigs, chuckling and grabbing anything that came to hand. He had broken the sharp branches off a long thick piece of pine and given it to her. She’d closed her fingers carefully on the rough bark and looked at it, then back at him as if he’d handed her a valuable prize.

‘Gaaah! Baaa!’

He’d nodded at her and it had seemed to satisfy her. She’d returned to her piece of wood, fascinated.

Walks Alone had turned and run quickly through the forest, surprised it was so far. He had not noticed how deeply into the woods they had come. No matter. He was fast. He’d gained camp and run round the back of the tipi to avoid his father’s gaze, had found the basket from the jumbled pile of belongings in the sled, and sped off towards the wood again.