Old Beaver Tail sat in front of the shelter he had built with the help of young bear. A pile of willow limbs lay by his side. His finger worked at weaving the limbs into a long basket. He had gotten an idea as he had walked along the small river that bordered the area where they had camped. He was making a fish trap much the same as he had made for many years. He had seen fish jump in the river and the idea had hatched. Using his big knife he started cutting small willow branches and switches until he had a large pile. Using one of the switches he tied the large pile together. Lifting them to his shoulder he carried them back to the newly built shelter. He thought he might be lucky and catch enough fish to eat some now and smoke some to take along when they started to walk again. As he sat absorbed in his work Young Bear came running up. Before he stopped he began talking excitedly. Old Beaver Tail had to stop him and ask him to start over again. The boy stopped and took a deep breath before speaking. He told his grandfather he had heard it said that they must start walking to the west again at the dawn of the next morning. The old man's hands stopped as if they had frozen. He sat for a few minutes, not moving, saying nothing. Then he raised his head, looked at the boy and told him to find Moon Flower. Slowly, his hands started to move once more. It was as if he had willed them to move and now they shook as they continued to weave the willow limbs into the fish trap. He was deep in thought. He decided he would finish the trap and set it out tonight. He would check it at daybreak. If he caught any fish they could be taken along with them. It was cold enough so they would not spoil. They might freeze he thought but they will not spoil. Soon his grandson came hurrying toward him with Moon Flower at his side. He told the young maiden to sit with them. As she watched his fingers he looked at her face. He did not have to ask the question that was burning in his mind. Finally he spoke, "It is true", he said. She hung her head so that her uncle would not see the tears that filled her eyes. Then she muttered, "Yes, Uncle, it is true. The major, the soldier chief, has received orders from his chief, the chief of all the soldiers ahead of us and behind us, that he is to start again and is not to stop until we come to the place called Oklahoma. He has been severely chastised for letting us stop to rest. No other group has been allowed to do this." The old man raised his eyes and looked at the sky. He looked about the camp, at the other people walking about, visiting their neighbors, the young men talking to the young women with smiles on their faces. It looked very much like they were back at home in the mountains. They did not yet know that tomorrow the heartache would begin anew. Well, he thought, let them enjoy themselves while they can. He had a job to finish. Moon Flower stood and started to walk slowly away. Stopping, she turned and said, "Uncle, I am sorry." Old Beaver Tail looked up at her, forced a sad smile to his face and said, "It is not your doing, Moon Flower. You have nothing to be sorry for." His hands continued to move, weaving the trap as she turned and walked slowly away with her head hanging down. The old man made up his mind he would carry the trap with him to use if they should stop near water again. He told the boy of his plan.The boy listened and turned to his grandfather and told him he would carry the shelter. He would roll up the sides and the top and tie it on his back. They could always find limbs to hold them up. The old man looked at his grandson, reached over gently and patted him on his shoulders. Then his hands continued to weave. His mind was in a turmoil but he thought, at least we had some rest and enough food to regain some strength. Before dawn the old man was at the river pulling up his fish trap. There were three medium sized fish in the trap. It would have been better if there was some bait he thought, but this was better then nothing. He took the fish from the trap and strung them on a small willow switch. Taking the basket from the water he shook it to dry it as well as possible. He rolled it as tight as he could and tied it in several places with willow switches. Taking the fish in one hand and the tightly rolled basket in the other hand he walked to the shelter. Young Bear was already up with a small cooking fire burning. He had started taking down the sides and top of their shelter. The old man cleaned the fish, strung them on a stick over the fire, and turned to help his grandson. When the shelter was tightly rolled and tied securely they turned to breakfast. Just as they finished the past of the coffee given to them by the soldier chief the soldier's bugle horn sounded to signal the start of the walk. They lifted their burdens to their shoulders and started off. Then Old Beaver Tail stopped, turned and looked at the place where they had stopped and had a few days of rest."Well, he thought, the sooner we start the sooner we will finish." He then turned his eyes away and the journey resumed.
