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Wolf
Bundle and expertly wrapped it in the protective wolf skin.
                   Fingers like ice traced his back. Power had
been abused. Who would suffer to restore the circles? Power always proved so
unpredictable. Offended, it might strike anywhere.
                   Anxiously he looked over at the boy.
                   With subtle tendrils, the Wolf Bundle reached
out, twining itself around Heavy Beaver's soul. Like morning mist, it explored
the texture of the man's spirit. Like the Starweb across the heavens, it wound around the sleeping man. Imperceptibly, the net
began to close, tightening around Heavy Beaver's life.
                   Wolf Dreamer whispered from the stars.
"The time hasn't come yet. He still serves our purpose. ''
                   “He seeks to drive human beings from the world
around them. He would divide the world. If he has his way, men will become more
important than earth, sun, animals—even women. "
                   "The time hasn't come. Our plant has only
sent up shoots."
                   "The boy may not be strong enough. He may
be the Trickster." The Wolf Bundle hesitated. "This Heavy Beaver is
evil."
                   ' 'Trust in the Circles.' '
                   "It would be so easy to kill him now,
disperse his soul into the rocks and mold, and send it flying with the
wind-borne dust."
                   “And you yourself would alter the Spirals.
Trust the harmony, trust the way of the Wise One. ''
                   Reluctantly, the Power of the Wolf Bundle
unwound from around Heavy Beaver's soul.
     

Chapter
3
     
                   White Calf walked slowly down the trail.
Countless elk, mountain sheep, and buffalo had beaten the path. Here and there
a deadfall had blocked the trail, causing her to work her way around on brittle
legs to find the main thread of the path again.
                   Animals thought differently than humans, and
the game trails led from one meadow to another; or to shelter in the thick
timber; or perhaps a place where water might be found. Human beings traveled in
straighter lines.
                   She contemplated the problem and decided a
lesson could be learned from it. Which were the brighter, the People, who
traveled long distances and wanted long straight trails over the shortest
route, or animals who traveled by the day, suffering only to meet their needs?
                   She stopped where the trail slanted down the
thickly timbered slope. A pine squirrel chattered at her. She looked up to see
the beast, crouched, tail tight over its back.
                   "Chug-chug yourself," she growled.
                   The squirrel promptly jumped a couple of
branches higher in the fir and stamped its back feet, clucking and chirring at
her.
                   White Calf scratched behind her ear, resettled
her heavy pack, and sighed. Where a spry elk could sprint up and down a trail
like this, aging women must tred a different path.
                   The scent of fir hung thick in her nose, as
she promptly set off along the ridge crest. Not for four years had she followed
this route to the divide that would take her into the basin. In that time, the
Wise One Above alone knew what changes had been wrought. It might be a long
trip.
                   From the place where she lay in the shadows,
Tanager watched the old woman, wondering who she was. The witch.
                  White Calf? A brief flutter of anxiety seized
her eight-year-old soul. What evil might come of watching a witch?
                   Tanager froze, not even reaching to pull the
wild strands of hair back from her face. Smudged and soiled, she remained
motionless. She'd learned well despite her age. While watching animals, a
person shouldn't move. Elk, for instance, saw