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medicine shirts like that of his father, formed of tiny
links of the substance. Some of their chiefs carried long, shiny knives, as long as one’s arm, which again, he thought, must be similarly made. Aiee, with so much strong medicine, the Hairfaces must be undefeatable.
    He became certain of this a few days later. A ceremony was held at which a demonstration of the powerful medicine of the Hairfaces was carried out. The prisoners were allowed to watch.
    A group of men dressed alike, and with the demeanor of warriors brought forth a strange object from one of the lodges. It was pulled on wheels, like those of the carts used to carry firewood and grain. Owl had become used to the wheels, another wondrous evidence of the medicine of the Hairfaces. He had wondered how to attempt to describe these marvels to the People on his return.
    Now, the warriors were dragging the heavy object on a two-wheeled cart. It appeared to resemble a section of hollow log about two paces long, except that it was made of the shiny substance that the Hairfaces used for so many of their medicine things.
    The men dragged the thing into position and turned it so that the log pointed away from the lodges. With great ceremony a quantity of black sand was poured into the log, followed by what appeared to be a piece of a grain sack. This was pushed down the log with a pole, and a round boulder selected from a nearby pile. This was found to exactly fit the hole in the log. It, too, was pushed in with the pole.
    Owl was thoroughly confused. He would have thought the Hairfaces had become completely demented, except that he had become convinced that they did nothing without some reason.
    The warriors stepped back. One advanced cautiously and applied a burning torch to a spot on the top of the log. There was a blinding flash and a thunderous roar. White smoke billowed from the log. Before Owl’s astonished eyes, a large boulder several hundred paces across the valley
exploded into innumerable small pieces and disappeared. Echoes of the blast reverberated across the hills, then it was quiet except for the delirious giggle of the Old Man. As the dust and smoke settled, the warriors prepared the smoke-log for another burst.
    Several times the deafening roar was repeated. Some of the prisoners held hands over their ears, while others cried out in terror.
    Owl’s astonishment did not prevent him from noticing the really important fact. The smoke-log would make it possible for the Hairfaces to destroy an enemy at a distance of several hundred paces.
    And, if their medicine could reach over great distances, how could they be beaten? More to the point, it might be that escape was entirely impossible. How could one escape medicine so powerful?
    That night Owl was more depressed than at any time previously. He had begun to think perhaps the Old Man was right.
    â€œFrom the Hairfaces,” he had said, “there is no escape.”

11
    Several suns after the smoke-log demonstration Owl discovered, among the prisoners already with the Hairfaces, another man of his own tribe. The man was somewhat older than himself, and had been among the Hairfaces for several winters.
    Owl discovered him accidentally. It was meal time, and the guards had brought a kettle of the ever-present stewed corn. The prisoners filed past, and a man ladled a scoop of the substance into each bowl.
    â€œ Aiee ” murmured a voice behind Owl. “Corn soup again.” The man spoke as if to himself, but Owl had been thinking the same thing. And, he realized suddenly, in the same language. This must be a man of the People!
    The two walked over against the wall of the compound, and Owl squatted beside the other. They ate in silence for a short while and then Owl initiated a conversation, using the People’s tongue.

    â€œIt is much different from well-cooked hump ribs,” he observed cautiously.
    From his attempts at communication with the crazed Old Man, he had become