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lodge. He, too, was concerned with the rumor. He recalled that for many moons after Heads Off had joined the People, his greatest wish was to return to his own tribe. Circumstances of one sort or another had prevented his departure. But now times were more stable. Might Heads Off not decide that it would be expedient to leave?
    â€œIt is not as great a risk what the Hair-faces will do, as what Heads Off will do.”
    The others agreed. After much quiet discussion, a plan of action was outlined. The chief must be prevented from knowing of the expedition of outsiders. Thus, he would be unable to join them.
    To this end, extra scouts would be deployed. Standing Bird, leader of the Elk-dog Warrior Society, would handle that end. The Elk-dogs, young men of unquestioned loyalty, would be informed of the crisis. Any information they acquired would be reported directly to White Buffalo. The medicine man could then advise a move to a new camp, in an area less likely to encounter the Hair-faces.
    Only one move had been necessary. White Buffalo’s visions had indicated that a change to an area two sleeps to the east would bring better hunting and it had been accomplished.
    Coyote’s heart was heavy over the necessity to deceive his son-in-law. They had shared thoughts since they first learned to communicate. The paunchy little man had come to respect and love the outsider, now a member of Coyote’s own family. For these very reasons, it was necessary to take precautions to see that he was not lost. Neither the family of Heads Off, now including two sons, nor the People as a whole, could afford to be without his leadership. It was with regret, then, that Coyote was willing to compromise his usual integrity for the greater cause.
    â€œIs anything more known of their purpose?” he now asked Standing Bird.
    The young warrior shook his head.

    â€œAmong the Growers, they seek a hair-face and ask if a certain one has been seen. Who knows what they say to Head Splitters?”
    Coyote chuckled the little high-pitched laugh that had long ago earned him his name. It was reminiscent of that animal’s night cry on the hills behind the camp.
    â€œ Aiee! Would they ask Head Splitters of Hair-faces?”
    The others laughed softly. Since the time of the Great Battle, when Heads Off had defeated Gray Wolf, the Head Splitters had considered him the cause of all their troubles. It was said that there were many warriors among that tribe who would gladly die at any time if they could take the hated Heads Off with them. Among the Head Splitters, he was known as Hair Face, which struck Coyote as a delightful little joke. The party of outsiders would be asking the Head Splitters about their worst enemy, by name, but without knowing it. Coyote wished he could be there to observe the looks on their faces.
    This could be a very good thing. If the Head Splitters overreacted to being asked about Hair Face by Hair-faces, the two groups might easily come to battle. How fortunate, if this new threat to the People were to be wiped out by the worst enemy of the People.
    Of course, there was risk involved. It could happen that the two enemies of the People would strike an agreement. The Head Splitters might tell the newcomers where the hair-face was to be found, hoping that they would take him away with them. Aiee , it became confusing. They must especially watch the actions of the invading party now.
    The conspirators separated, re-entering the camp from different directions. Heads Off, half asleep, happened to glance past the door flap to see his wife’s parents slip back to their lodge. He smiled to himself. An incurable romantic, that Coyote. They had probably slipped off for an interlude away from the children in their lodge.
    Heads Off rolled over in the sleeping robes and cuddled against the warm body of Tall One. Their own children were too small to become that sort of problem yet. He would worry
about that later. For now, he