Then she dropped to her knees, lifted her arms in front of her, and positioned herself before Mary. She ceased her singing and began to speak. She said that the two sisters’ dead brother by means of earthly and just trading practices had sent them a helper, the white woman they saw before them, and that her new name would be Two-Falling-Voices. Two voices, two pitches, two slopes.

A murmur rose from the group; the older sister extended her hand to Mary, helped her to her feet, and said, “May you be happy as long as you live.”

But the newly named white who stood among them in exchange for a dead warrior understood none of what had been said, nor did she herself speak a word.

FINGERLINGS of green leaves had uncurled close against the branches of shrubs and trees, but the captive paid them no mind. She followed instructions only, learning her sisters’ methods of planting corn.

As she sowed, two series of images began to occur to her. She saw actions only and did not reflect on them.

In the first series she saw that she had unlaced and unwound all the clumsy strings which braced her clothing and her stockings; she tied them together, wound the ropy length around her neck, and hung herself.

In the second series she saw herself slip silently, like an amphibian, from the shore into the drowning-depths of the Ohio River.

HER SISTERS decided she should accompany a hunting party from time to time, especially when the men were going just a short distance. Mary could be useful in helping to carry the game back; but in this way, they hoped also that her bad spirits would be affected. To go to the woods and see elk, deer, muskrat, and beaver moving about and to follow these creatures often resulted in people brightening, finding that their sad ruminations had stopped.

The black of night had waned just enough behind the alders so that trunks and branches began to reveal themselves. The small group lay on their bellies on the earth.

As soon as the prey appeared an arrow flew; a buck jerked its neck and fell. When the group rose to move up the hill, someone motioned for Mary to follow. By the time she reached the deer, one hunter had started to gut it.

In the village this man had often regarded the newly adopted young woman in a kindly way. Both his legs looked as if they had in the past suffered burns. Without stopping his slitting work, he managed to glance at Mary.

“Once we have killed and need to cut, we cut quickly,” he said as if he were speaking to himself.

Mary looked at him.

“Very quickly,” he said. “And with force.”

She watched his eyes.

“Now,” he said, “we will draw out the bowels.”