Could they not see that eating bear-grease oil made a person’s eyes shine? That well-cooked beans stirred up the bowels and exercised them? That strawberries and blueberries brought color to one’s family’s cheeks? And she said she thought that meat made people strong and that food in general seemed to lift people’s burdens so that their spirits could grow.

Then she said, “Did you enjoy the foods you ate when you were with your white family?”

Mary shook her head, and Tree could not tell whether this motion was up and down or from side to side.

MARY and Slight-Wind watched a river of execution objects wind past them. First, the two white prisoners themselves, taken in the recent French and Indian ambush near Fort Niagara; they were bound and stumbling, being pushed forward. Then a great cheer went up, for captured oxen followed, the first oxen ever brought to the Genesee flats. And later, robes, fruits, vessels of drink, beads, musical instruments, and firewood were borne along, specially prepared for the ritual burning.

Mary had seen the powerful look one of the Seneca captors had given her sister, and so she nudged her. “That warrior is attracted to you.”

Slight-Wind said only, “I want to go.”

“Go?”

“To the frolic, to the festivities. Come with me.”

“To see them die? Well, you can go.”

“No, come with me,” her sister said. “You’ve told me you could look on anything now. Mother will take care of Thomas. Aren’t you curious?”

“A little. A little curious.”

Slight-Wind said, “We want to attend the ritual.” She and Mary stood close to each other.

Tree looked at the two women for a long time and then said that she advised them not to go. She asked her blood daughter what her motive was for wanting to stand before the warriors’ fires.

“You have already lost one brother to the whites in warfare. Have you forgotten? But I, his mother, remember. You could lose another brother to either the whites or another tribe: that suffering and death would be fresh in your mind, I think, for many years. And you would remember with rue how gaily you attended these prisoners’ executions.” She continued: “How can you think of taking your sister to the spot which will become charred, a spreading stain?”

But Mary answered and said that she had indeed declared herself curious, that she had told Slight-Wind that she half wanted to go.

Tree turned to her adopted daughter then. “And you, too, have lost family, have you not?”

Mary flushed. “Yes. Quite long ago.”

Tree was determined. “How long ago?”

Mary did not or could not answer.