"There," said Cuwignaka, standing on teh crest of the small hill, in the deep grass. "below is the camp, nestled in the trees, by the small stream. You can see some lodges."

I stood, stock-still, on the crest of the small hill, beside Cuwignaka. I scarcely glanced into the shallow valley, at the trees along the stream, the lodges hidden among the trees.

It was something else which drew my attention. It was on a rise behind the camp.

"What is wrong?" asked Cuwignaka.

I could not speak. My blood began to race, my heart to pound. I began to breathe swiftly. I trembled.

"What is wrong, Mitakola?" asked Cuwignaka.

"There," I said. I pointed to the rise overlooking the camp.

"What?" he asked.

"There!" I said. "There!"

On that rise there were two trees, white-barked trees, some fifty feet tall, with shimmering green leaves. They stood within some thrity to forty feet of one another and both were outlined dramatically against the sky.

"What?" asked Cuwignaka.

I stared, trembling, at the lonely pair of trees. "The trees," I said. "The trees." They were Hogarthe trees, named for Hogarthe, one of the early explorers in the area of the Barrens, usually growing along the banks of small streams or muddy, sluggish rivers. Their shape is very reminiscent of poplar trees on Earth, to which, perhaps in virtue of seeds brought to the Counter-Earth, they may be related.

"It is from those trees," said Cuwignaka, "that this place has its name."

"What is the name of this place?" I asked.

"Two Feathers," said Cuwignaka.

"I thought that was a name," I said.

"It is a name," said Cuwignaka, "the name of this place."

"Who is high man here?" I asked.

"It would be Kahintokapa, One-Who-Walks-Before, of the Yellow-Kaiila Riders," said Cuwignaka, "if he survived."

"He must have survived!" I cried.

I began to run wildly down the slope toward the camp.

"Wait!" cried Cuwignaka. "Someone is coming!"

"Tatankasa!" cried Canka, rushing towards us from the camp. But I ran past him. I ran as though mad. He, and perhaps Akihoka, who had gone to fetch him back from hunting, must have made contact with fugitives from the festival camp and then, with them, come to this camp.

"Master!" cried Winyela.

But I ran past her, too.

"Wait!" I heard Cuwignaka calling out behind me.

But I could not wait. It was late afternoon. This would be the time for the sunning of shields, hanging on the shield tripods behnd the lodge facing west.

Woemn looked up, startled, as I hurried through the camp. "Tatankasa!" cried more than one.

"Tatankasa!" called out Mahpiyasapa.

I, a slave, fell to my knees before him. He was chief of the Isbu Kaiila.

"You live!" he cried. "My heart sings!"

"Master," I cried. "Where is the lodge of Kahintokapa!"

"There," said Mahpiyasapa, puzzled, pointing.

"My thanks, Master!" I cried.

I clenched my fists.

"You may rise," said Mahpiyasapa, discerning my urgency.

I leaped to my feet.

"Tatankasa!" cried Mahpiyasapa.

"Yes?" I said.

"Know you aught of Hci?"

"Let your heart soar and sing, Master," I said. "Your son lives!" I pointed behind me, to the slope, down which the young, former Waniyapi lad and Mira and the former Waniyanpi girl, now a master's slave, drew the travois. Mahpiyasapa, his face radiant with joy, hurried from my side. I saw Canka and Cuwignaka embracing. Winyela, overjoyed, stood by. Others, too, from the camp, were running out to meet them.

I quickly turned my steps toward the lodge of Kahintokapa. I came to it, and then I stopped. Then, slowly, I walked about the lodge. I felt the warm sun on my back. Never before had I seen the shield of Kahintokapa outside of its shield cover, even when I had first seen him, long ago, with Canka and the members of the All Comrades, near the site of the battle of the wagon train, near, too, where the mercenaries had fought, and Alfred had escaped with the contingent of some three to four hundred men.

It is not uncommon for a warrior to keep his shield in its case or cover when not fighting. It is removed from the case, or cover, also, of course, when it is sunned, set forth to draw in power and medicine from the yellow, life-giving, blazing star of two worlds, Sol or Tor-tu-Gor, Light Upon the Home Stone.

I stood for a long time on the late-summer day, looking at the shild, hanging on the shield tripod. It turned, slightly, in the breeze, back and forth. I took care, in deference to the feelings of the red savages, not to let my shadow fall across it, while it was being sunned. Similarly, one does not pass between a guest and the fire in a lodge without begging his pardon.

I heard Cuwignaka and Canka coming up behind me. They, too, regarded the shield.

"You see it?" I asked.

"Of course," said Cuwignaka.

"The hunter, long ago, in the snows," I said, "was Kahintokapa."

"I do not understand," said Cuwignaka.

" 'Two Feathers'," I said, "was not a man's name, but the name of this place."

"Of what is he speaking?" asked Canka.

"I do not know," said Cuwignaka.

"Look upon the shield," I said.

We all regarded the shield. It bore, painted on it, with meticulous detail, outlined in black, colored in with pigments, the visage of a Kur. It was a broad, savage head. One could see the proturding canines. The eyes, I thought, had been particularly well done. They seemed to look upon us. The left ear had been half torn away.

"It is Zarendargar, Half-Ear," I said.

"Who is Zarendargar?" asked Cuwignaka.

"One with whom I once, long ago, and in a far place shared paga," I said.

"That is the medicine helper of Kahintokapa," said Canka.

"I would like to make its acquantance," I said.

"These things are personal," said Canka. "These things are private. They are seen in dreams, in visions. How can one man see the medicine helper of another man?"

"I must speak to Kahintokapa," I said.

"Kahintokapa is grievously wounded," said Canka.

"Will you make known my desires to him?" I asked.

"We both will," said Cuwignaka.

I looked at the visage on the shield. The likeness had been well caputred. Even now, among certain articles on the travois, brought from the lodge of Grunt at the festival camp, was the story hide, acquired long ago in the delta of the Vosk, some four pasangs from Port Kar. On this hide was protrayed the story of a hunt and of the finding of a medicine helper. This hide had been the clue which had brought not only Kog and Sardak, and their allies, to the Barrens, but myself as well. At the narrative's termination on the hide the artist had drawn a likeness of the medicine helper, protrayed as though on a shield. The image had been that, clearly, of Zarendargar. Now, deep within the Barrens, north of the Northern Kaiila River, in he country of the CAsmu Kaiila, I looked upon the shield itself.

I turned about.

Several people were gathered about.

I looked past the people, away from the camp, out over the grasses.

Then I turned again to Cuwignaka and Canka.

"I would speak to Kahintokapa," I said.

"You would seek this medicine helper?" asked Canak.

"Yes," I said.

"If you do," said Canka, "you must do so in accordance with our ways."

"I will, of course," I said, "abide by your wishes."

"Cuwignaka and I will speak to Kahintokapa," said Canka. "We will speak on your behalf."

"I am grateful," I said.