The Season of Melting Snow had arrived and after hiding in the Shining Mountains, my people set up a temporary camp on the headwaters of the Sogwobipa River to hunt the huge, humpback kotea. The Season of Howling Wind had been long and cold causing food to be short. I walked a long way from camp in search of roots and healing herbs with Wind Chaser, my half-dog, half-wolf companion.

While digging up camas roots with a stick, a strange, uneasy feeling came over me. Scanning the terrain and listening intently, I heard the snort of a horse and the sound of a hoof scraping the ground. I moved to the tall grass and squatted down out of sight, motioning Wind Chaser to follow. He crouched beside me with his ears perked up, sensitive to every sound. I breathed slowly, becoming one with the grass and Mother Earth so my presence wouldn't be detected.

A Blackfeet brave rode into view; his tribe was our worst enemy. White and red lines zigzagged down both sides of his face. He carried a bow and quiver of arrows and a lethal-looking tomahawk. The many feathers in his hair and his war paint showed he was a war chief. When he reined in his horse to look around, I saw that on his stallion was a red handprint, which meant he'd killed someone in hand-to-hand combat.

Five more warriors moved into view and the war chief's attention shifted to his men as they drew up alongside him. I waited in tense silence, hardly daring to breathe. The warriors began talking in their own tongue and my fear grew so intense my stomach ached. If they found me they would know my village was near and they would return with many warriors to destroy it and steal our horses.

Into my mind came images from when I was very young. A Blackfeet war party had attacked our village, catching my tribe unprepared. My mother grabbed me up and ran to the tepee, yelling for my brother, Gray Eagle, to follow us. Instead Gray Eagle had snatched up his small bow and raced after my father who was leading the defense. My mother dropped me and ran after Gray Eagle, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back over to where I stood crying. She dragged us both into the tepee. Many were killed and the wailing and loud keening cries of the mourners could be heard for many suns afterwards.

Wind Chaser sensed my fear and began to growl. I placed a hand on his thick-furred back to silence him. The leader of the war party looked directly at where I was crouched. I was afraid he could see me through the grass.

Wind Chaser leapt out at the chief's steed and the startled animal reared up. I took advantage of the moment of confusion to quietly back away and slip into the forest. Once I was out of sight, I began to run toward my village, weaving my way through the tall cedar and hemlock trees. I leapt over fallen branches and tore through bushes that barred my way, ignoring the scratches to my face, arms, and legs. My leather pouch slowed me down, but the food and herbs were too valuable to leave behind. Wind Chaser reappeared and ran alongside me with his tail held high; his long, powerful legs allowing him to move in easy loping strides. Wind Chaser looked like a reddish-brown colored wolf except for his larger size and stronger body build.

I ran until I couldn't push myself any more then slowed my pace. I had gone further than I'd realized in my search for food. Once rested, I began to run again.

I finally reached our encampment in the river valley, and the sight of our peaceful tepees filled me with relief. We were camped at Three-forks, a place where three rivers come together. We had nearly three hundred people in our band, five hundred horses, and many dogs. On a hill near the village there was always a scout and I went directly to that place. As I drew closer I saw that the sentinel was Chased-by-Bear, a war chief and warrior of great courage. He came down the hill to meet me with a concerned expression on his proud face. "What is wrong, Red Willow?" he asked.

"There is a Piegan war party nearby!"

"Chief Gray Eagle's at the river. Go tell him while I round up some scouts to follow the Blackfeet."

I hurried through the village and down to the river where Gray Eagle was spearing fish with Kicking Horse. They stood in the muddy water amongst the tall bulrushes. I dropped my bag and ran to them, calling out Gray Eagle's name. Both men turned upon hearing me and lowered their spears. Kicking Horse came swiftly to shore and I ran into his arms.

"What has happened?" he demanded. His usually cheerful, open face was clouded with concern. He was a young warrior with a beak-shaped nose, high cheekbones, and swarthy complexion. He was wearing only a breechcloth, though the water was cool, and his long black hair was worn loose around his shoulders.

I told him about the Blackfeet war party and felt his body become rigid as his arms tightened around me.

"Did they see you?" Gray Eagle asked, joining us on shore. He had an air of confidence about him.

I moved from Kicking Horse's arms and turned to my brother. "No, I hid from them."

"Where did you see them?" Gray Eagle asked. He was broad shouldered, but very lean for there had been a lack of food that winter.

"On the animal trail near the Cedar forest. I'll lead you there."

"No, it's not a squaw's place. I know the trail well. We'll follow them and see where they're headed."

"Let me come along!"

"This is not a game, Red Willow."

"I know that! You've let me come along to steal horses."

Kicking Horse watched me with an annoying smile on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

"This is different!" exclaimed Gray Eagle. "The safety of our band is at stake."

"I won't slow you down. I can run like the wind and move without making noise."

He replied sharply. "I have the responsibility for our people now. I can't risk bringing along a squaw. Come, Kicking Horse, let's go." He started running up the embankment.

"I should have followed them myself!" I called after him in frustration. Kicking Horse started to follow and I grabbed his arm. "Wait! Convince him to let me come along."

"Kicking Horse is right. You are a woman now and the sister of the chief. You need to be an example for our people of how a squaw should behave."

"I do not want to be a squaw! It's not exciting."

"There might be fighting. I don't think you want that type of excitement." He turned and ran off to catch up with Gray Eagle while I stood there, furious that I was not allowed to go along.

 Read part 2: "The First Vision Quest"     

 Buy the book for 33% off — only $9.99!