When they reached the place where they were to camp for the night the ground was white. They had walked in the snow since the mid-day rest. It was still snowing and it was getting very cold. The wind was still blowing and the snow looked as if it was straight out of the east rather then from the sky. Young Bear doubled the thin blanket and put it around the shoulders of his grandfather. He took the bedroll the white soldier had given him at the mid day stop and rolled it up as well as he could. He tied the small ropes around it as tightly as he could get them. Taking the roll he walked off toward where the white soldiers were in their camp. He was looking for the giant white soldier with the flaming hair and beard. He would need his bedroll this night. He would certainly freeze without it. He knew he would know him as soon as he saw him. He still could not stop thinking what might happened to make his hair and beard look like they were on fire. He saw the big horse first, then he saw the big soldier who rode the horse. He walked up to where he was and stood until he stopped talking to the white soldiers. They saluted him and turned and walked away. Young Bear, "He must be the soldier chief. Maybe that is why his hair is like fire." The big soldier saw Young Bear and walked over to him. The young Cherokee boy handed the bedroll to the big soldier. The big soldier smiled at the boy and motioned him to follow. As he turned and walked away Young Bear had to run to keep up with him. They came to a tent and the big man pulled the flap aside and walked in. Young Bear stopped and did not enter the tent. The big white soldier opened the tent flap again and told the boy to come in. When he entered the tent he found it much warmer then outside. The big soldier pointed to a bed at the rear of the tent. The boy looked and there on the bed was another bedroll like the one he carried. With the other bedroll and the bed the white soldier would sleep warm tonight. He would have no use for the bedroll he carried. He gave it back to Young Bear. The boy thought the big soldier must be a powerful chief. Walking out of the tent he walked over to a tree with something hanging in it covered by a brown looking cloth. Pulling the cloth aside the cloth the white soldier chief took out his knife and cut a large piece of meat from the deer that was hanging under the cloth. Still smiling, his white teeth very bright in the red beard, he gave the piece of venison to Young bear. As Young Bear opened his mouth to thank him he turned on his heel and walked away. Tuning his head he looked over his shoulder and waved good bye. Young Bear walked across the campground with the bedroll in one hand and the deer meat in the other hand. He was deep in thought. The white soldiers had killed his mother and father and he was sure he did not like them. They spoke harshly and loudly, even when digging the shallow holes for the people whose spirits had walked on. He had made up his mind that he would never like them. then----the giant white soldier on the large horse had come along. Was it possible there were good people among the white soldiers? he knew that without the warm bedroll the white soldier had given him his grandfather would not have been able to keep going. Old Beaver Tail certainly would not have made it through the day. The old man had been sick since he had gone into the water to harvest the tubers they had eaten. But, now, with the bedroll, he would be able to stay warm. With the medicine from the plants as he had seen his mother do before they had to leave their home Old Beaver Tail would be alright. As they had walked they had passed through a thicket. Young Bear had seen some bushes around the edge of the thicket. They had what looked like red berries on them. Young Bear knew they were not berries. he had helped his mother, Spring Doe pick them. they were the seed buds left by the flowers of the plant. He knew he had to pick some or them and make a tea that would help his grandfather. He had stopped to pick them and one of the white soldiers had growled at him to keep walking. He had broken off a large branch of the bush and taken it with him, picking off the buds as he walked beside his grandfather. The briers had torn at his hands but he had gritted his teeth against the pain. Now he would be able to make the tea and he had some meat to cook for his grandfather. As he walked beside Old beaver Tail he knew they would sleep well this night. They would have food on their stomachs and the hot tea. Then they would sleep warm in the bedroll the big white soldier chief had given him. And, once again, he would ask the Creator to walk with the big soldier chief.
