if it was an accident. But it is no accident." She stared into the fire, solemn, proud. "The army is directing the slaughter of the buffalo and as they die, so do we."
Longtree said, "I think the army wants to stop the Sioux and the Cheyenne. So the Indian Wars will end."
"And what of us?" Moonwind asked. "Must we perish with them?"
Longtree sighed. "I wish I had an answer for that."
"Your people, the Absaroka, the Crow, have fought with the Flatheads against us--"
"We also fought the Dakotas, the Sioux."
"You fought against us," she maintained.
He dragged off his cigarette. "Did the Crow have a choice? The Blackfeet raided and killed them without mercy. Moonwind, the Blackfeet are a warring tribe. They are not an innocent race."
She ignored this. "The Crow fought with the whites against us, against others. And where did it get them? They were forgotten and tossed aside when their usefulness to the whites had ended. The Crow are few now, Joseph Longtree. They are a starving, beaten race, riddled with white man's diseases."
"I know what's happened," he told her. "I'm not ignorant of any of this."
"The whites are treacherous."
"Not all of them."
"Your mother was a Crow. How can you say this?"
"And my father was a white. None of this has anything to do with why I'm here," he explained patiently. "I didn't come to run Indians. I came to stop some killing or at least find out why it's happening."
"This matters so much to you?"
"Yes," he said flatly. "Now I'm going to ask questions and you're going to answer them. Tell me about the Skull Society."
She shrugged. "They are a men's society. We have many as do most tribes. There are others--the Bear, the Beaver. The Beaver is the most spiritually powerful it is said. The Wolf and Bear produce the finest hunters and warriors. But the oldest, the most secretive is the Skull Society. It is also the most feared."
"Why?"
"Because..." she pursed her lips as if what she revealed was taboo and it probably was. "Because they have the power to call the Skullhead."
"And what is this Skullhead?"
"A supernatural being. Nothing more. According to tradition, the Skullhead is a righter of wrongs."
Longtree stared at her, knowing she knew more than she was saying. She avoided his eyes. "Tell me what this is all about."
She continued staring in the fire for some time. Then, "It has been said that those of the Skull Society have the ability to change shape, to shift themselves into other forms." She let that lay with him. "It is a fairly common belief with my people. The Bear Society believes they can assume the shape of their spiritual guide, the great bear. The Wolf Society believes they can become wolves."
"Do you believe in this?"
"I believe many things."
"But do you believe in this? The whites have a name for shapeshifters. Do you know what it is?"
"Werewolf," she said softly.
He nodded. "A legend."
She seemed unconcerned with his label. "It has been said the ancients were in league with many creatures. Some no longer walk this land. Some are distant memory. That they hunted with them, as them. That they could reverse their skins. Beneath their flesh were the pelts of wolf, bear. This was accomplished with the Blood-Medicine my father spoke of."
Longtree tossed his cigarette into the fire. "Okay. That's fine for the Wolf and Bear Societies. I don't ridicule their beliefs. But what of the Skull Society? What is it they claim to become with this Blood-Medicine?"
"With the Blood-Medicine, men of the Society could become the Skullhead."
"What else?"
She went silent again. Then she turned and looked at him, her eyes drinking him in, making him shiver. Shadow and light played over her face. "It was said my grandfather was a shapeshifter. That he often hunted in the form of an animal. That his father was one and his father's father."
"And Crazytail?"
"Yes, he, too."
Longtree licked his lips. "Are your telling me your father is killing these people in the form of an animal?
Longtree said, "I think the army wants to stop the Sioux and the Cheyenne. So the Indian Wars will end."
"And what of us?" Moonwind asked. "Must we perish with them?"
Longtree sighed. "I wish I had an answer for that."
"Your people, the Absaroka, the Crow, have fought with the Flatheads against us--"
"We also fought the Dakotas, the Sioux."
"You fought against us," she maintained.
He dragged off his cigarette. "Did the Crow have a choice? The Blackfeet raided and killed them without mercy. Moonwind, the Blackfeet are a warring tribe. They are not an innocent race."
She ignored this. "The Crow fought with the whites against us, against others. And where did it get them? They were forgotten and tossed aside when their usefulness to the whites had ended. The Crow are few now, Joseph Longtree. They are a starving, beaten race, riddled with white man's diseases."
"I know what's happened," he told her. "I'm not ignorant of any of this."
"The whites are treacherous."
"Not all of them."
"Your mother was a Crow. How can you say this?"
"And my father was a white. None of this has anything to do with why I'm here," he explained patiently. "I didn't come to run Indians. I came to stop some killing or at least find out why it's happening."
"This matters so much to you?"
"Yes," he said flatly. "Now I'm going to ask questions and you're going to answer them. Tell me about the Skull Society."
She shrugged. "They are a men's society. We have many as do most tribes. There are others--the Bear, the Beaver. The Beaver is the most spiritually powerful it is said. The Wolf and Bear produce the finest hunters and warriors. But the oldest, the most secretive is the Skull Society. It is also the most feared."
"Why?"
"Because..." she pursed her lips as if what she revealed was taboo and it probably was. "Because they have the power to call the Skullhead."
"And what is this Skullhead?"
"A supernatural being. Nothing more. According to tradition, the Skullhead is a righter of wrongs."
Longtree stared at her, knowing she knew more than she was saying. She avoided his eyes. "Tell me what this is all about."
She continued staring in the fire for some time. Then, "It has been said that those of the Skull Society have the ability to change shape, to shift themselves into other forms." She let that lay with him. "It is a fairly common belief with my people. The Bear Society believes they can assume the shape of their spiritual guide, the great bear. The Wolf Society believes they can become wolves."
"Do you believe in this?"
"I believe many things."
"But do you believe in this? The whites have a name for shapeshifters. Do you know what it is?"
"Werewolf," she said softly.
He nodded. "A legend."
She seemed unconcerned with his label. "It has been said the ancients were in league with many creatures. Some no longer walk this land. Some are distant memory. That they hunted with them, as them. That they could reverse their skins. Beneath their flesh were the pelts of wolf, bear. This was accomplished with the Blood-Medicine my father spoke of."
Longtree tossed his cigarette into the fire. "Okay. That's fine for the Wolf and Bear Societies. I don't ridicule their beliefs. But what of the Skull Society? What is it they claim to become with this Blood-Medicine?"
"With the Blood-Medicine, men of the Society could become the Skullhead."
"What else?"
She went silent again. Then she turned and looked at him, her eyes drinking him in, making him shiver. Shadow and light played over her face. "It was said my grandfather was a shapeshifter. That he often hunted in the form of an animal. That his father was one and his father's father."
"And Crazytail?"
"Yes, he, too."
Longtree licked his lips. "Are your telling me your father is killing these people in the form of an animal?
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