The chief nodded again. "The Kiowa is grateful for the gifts of Red Beard. But the loss of the maiden Kaneha will be a difficult one for her tribe to bear. Already she has won her place among us by her skills in her womanly crafts. Her cooking and sewing, her artistry in leather-making."

"I am aware of the high regard in which the Kiowa hold their daughter Kaneha," Sam said formally. "And I came prepared to compensate them for their loss."

He got to his feet again. "For the loss of her aid in feeding the tribe, I pledge the meat of two buffalo," he said, looking down at them. "For the loss of her labor, I give to my brothers this mule which I have brought with me. And to compensate them for the loss of her beauty, I bring them- "

He paused dramatically and walked back to his mule. Silently he untied the heavy rolled pack on its back. He carried the pack back to the seated council and laid it on the ground before them. Slowly he unrolled it.

A sigh of awe came unbidden from the circle. The chief's eyes glittered.

". . . the hide of the sacred white buffalo," Sam said. He looked around the circle. Their eyes were fixed on the beautiful white skin that shone before them like snow on the ground.

The albino buffalo was a rarity. The chief that could be laid to rest on such a sacred hide was assured that his spirit would enter the happy hunting grounds. To the skin-traders, it might be worth almost as much as ten ordinary hides. But Sam knew what he wanted.

He wanted a woman. For five years, he had lived on these plains and had been able only to share the services of a whore once a year at trading time in the small room back of the skin-trader's post. It was time he had a woman of his own.

The chief, so impressed with the munificence of Sam's offer that he forgot to bargain further, looked up. "It is with honor that we give the mighty hunter Red Beard the woman Kaneha to be his squaw."

He rose to his feet as a sign that the council was over.

"Prepare my daughter Kaneha for her husband," he said. He turned and walked toward his tent and Sam followed him.

In another tent, Kaneha sat waiting. Somehow, she had known that Red Beard had come for her. In keeping with maidenly modesty, she had gone into the waiting tent so that she might not hear the bargaining. She sat there calmly, for she was not afraid of Red Beard. She had looked into his face many times when he had come to visit her father.

Now there was the sound of babbling women coming toward the tent. She looked toward the flap. The bargaining was over. She only hoped that Red Beard had at least offered one buffalo for her. The women burst into the tent. They were all talking at once. No bride had ever brought greater gifts. The mule. Beads. Whisky. The hide of a sacred white buffalo. Two buffalo for meat.

Kaneha smiled proudly to herself. In that moment, she knew that Red Beard loved her. From outside the tent came the sound of the drums beginning to beat out the song of marriage. The women gathered in a circle around her, their feet stamping in time to the drums.

She dropped her shift to the ground and the women came close. One on each side of her began to unplait the long braid that hung past her shoulders. Two others began to cover her body with grease from the bear, which was to make her fertile. At last, all was done and they stepped back.

She stood there naked in the center of the tent, facing the flap. Her body shone with the grease and she was straight and tall, her breasts high and her stomach flat, her legs straight and long.

The flap opened and the medicine man entered. In one hand he carried the devil wand, in the other the marriage stick. He shook the devil wand in the four corners of the tent and sprang twice into the air to make sure there were no devils hovering over them, then he advanced toward her. He held the marriage stick over her head.

She looked up at it. It was made of highly polished wood, carved into the shape of an erect phallus and testes. Slowly he lowered it until it rested on her forehead. She closed her eyes because it was not seemly for a maiden to look so deeply into the source of a warrior's strength.

The medicine man began to dance around her, springing high into the air and mumbling incantations over her. He pressed the stick to her breasts, to her stomach, to her back and buttocks, to her cheeks and to her eyes, until now it was covered with the bear grease from her body. Finally, he leaped into the air with a horrible shriek and when his feet touched the earth again, everything was silent, even the drums.

As in a trance, she took the marriage stick from the medicine man. Silently she held it to her face, then her breasts, then her stomach.

The drums began again, beating slowly. In time with their rhythm, she lowered the stick between her legs. Her feet began to move in time to the drums, slowly at first, then faster as the drums picked up tempo. Her long black hair, which hung to her buttocks, began to flare out wildly as she began to move around the circle of women, holding out the marriage stick for their blessing and cries of envy.

The circle completed, she once more stood alone in its center, her feet moving in time with the drums. Holding the marriage stick between her legs, she began to crouch slightly, lowering herself onto it.

"Ai-ee," the women sighed as they swayed to the tempo of the drums.

"Ai-ee," they sighed again in approbation as she lifted herself from the stick. It was not seemly for a maiden to be too eager to swallow up her husband.

Now they held their breath as once more the stick began to enter her. Each was reminded of her own marriage, when she, too, had looked up at the circle of women, her eyes pleading for help. But none dared move forward. This the bride must do for herself.

Through Kaneha's pain, the drums began to throb. Her lips grew tight together. This was her husband, Red Beard, the mighty hunter. She must not disgrace him here in the tent of women. When he himself came into her, instead of his spirit, the way for him must be easy and quick.

She closed her eyes and made a sudden convulsive movement. The hymen ruptured and she staggered as a wave of pain washed over her. The drums were wilder now. Slowly she straightened up and removed the marriage stick. She held it out proudly toward the medicine man.

He took it and quickly left the tent. Silently the women formed a circle around her. Naked, in its center so she would be shielded from other eyes, she walked to the tent of the chief.

The women stood aside as she entered. In the dim light, the chief and Sam looked up at her. She stood there proudly, her head raised, her eyes respectfully looking over their heads. Her breasts heaved and her legs trembled slightly. She prayed that Red Beard would be pleased with what he saw.

The chief spoke first, as was the custom. "See how profusely she bleeds," he said. "She will bear you many sons."

"Aye, she will bear me many sons," Sam said, his eyes on her face. "And because I am pleased with her, I pledge my brothers the meat of an additional buffalo."

Kaneha smiled quickly and left the tent to go down to the river to bathe. Her prayers had been answered. Red Beard was pleased with her.

Now she moved heavily, swollen with his child, as he sat at the table wondering why the buffalo didn't come. Something inside him told him they would never come again. Too many had been slain in the last few years.

At last, he looked up from the table. "Git the gear together," he said. "We're moving out of here."

Kaneha nodded and obediently began to gather up the household things while he went out and hitched the mules to the cart. Finished, he came back to the cabin.

Kaneha picked up the first bundle and started for the door when the pain seized her. The bundle fell from her hands and she doubled over. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with meaning.

"You mean now?" Sam asked, almost incredulously.

She nodded.

"Here, let me help you."

She straightened up, the seizure leaving her. "No," she said firmly in Kiowa. "This is for a woman, not for a brave."

Sam nodded. He walked to the door. "I'll be outside."

It was two o'clock in the morning when he first heard the cry of a baby from inside the cabin. He had been half dozing and the sound brought him awake into a night filled with stars. He sat there tensely, listening.

About twenty minutes passed, then the door of the cabin opened and Kaneha stood there. He struggled to his feet and went into the cabin.

In the corner on a blanket in front of the fire lay the naked baby. Sam stood there, looking down.

"A son," Kaneha said proudly.

"Well, I'll be damned." Sam touched it and the baby squalled, opening its eyes. "A son," Sam said. "How about that?" He bent over, looking closely.

His beard tickled the baby and it screamed again. Its skin was white and the eyes were blue like the father's, but the hair was black and heavy on his little head.

The next morning they left the cabin.

3.

THEY SETTLED DOWN ABOUT TWENTY MILES OUTSIDE of Dodge City and Sam started to haul freight for the stage lines. Being the only man in the area with mules, he found himself in a fairly successful business.

They lived in a small cabin and it was there Max began to grow up. Kaneha was very happy with her son. Occasionally, she would wonder why the spirits had not given her more children but she did not worry about it. Because she was Indian, they kept to themselves.

Sam liked it that way, too. Basically, he was a very shy man and his years alone on the plains had not helped cure his shyness. He developed a reputation in the town for being taciturn and stingy. There were rumors floating around that actually he had a hoard of gold cached out on his place from the years he was a buffalo-hunter.

By the time Max was eleven years old, he was as lithe and quick on his feet as his Indian forebears. He could ride any horse he chose without a saddle and could shoot the eye out of a prairie gopher at a hundred yards with his .22. His black hair hung straight and long, Indian fashion, and his eyes were dark blue, almost black in his tanned face.

They were seated at the table one night, eating supper, when Sam looked over at his son. "They're startin' up a school in Dodge," he said.

Max looked up at his father as Kaneha came to the table from the stove. He didn't know whether he was supposed to speak or not. He kept eating silently.

"I signed you up for it," Sam said. "I paid ten dollars."

Now Max felt it was time for him to speak. "What fer?"

"To have them learn you to read an' write," his father answered.

"What do I have to know that fer?" Max asked.

"A man should know them things," Sam said.

"You don't," Max said with the peculiar logic of children. "And it don't bother you none."

"Times is different now," Sam said. "When I was a boy, there warn't no need for such things. Now ever'thing is readin' or writin' "

"I don't want to go."

"You're goin'," Sam said, roaring suddenly. "I already made arrangements. You can sleep in the back of Olsen's Livery Stable durin' the week."

Kaneha wasn't quite sure she understood what her husband was saying. "What is this?" she asked in Kiowa.

Sam answered in the same language. "A source of big knowledge. Without it, our son can never be a great chief among the White Eyes."

This was enough reason for Kaneha. "He will go," she said simply. Big knowledge meant big medicine. She went back to her stove.

The next Monday, Sam brought Max over to the school. The teacher, an impoverished Southern lady, came to the door and smiled at Sam.

"Good morning, Mr. Sand," she said.

"Good mornin', ma'am. I brought my son to school."

The teacher looked at him, then at Max, then around the yard in front of the school cabin. "Where is he?" she asked in a puzzled voice.

Sam pushed Max forward. Max stumbled slightly and looked up at the teacher. "Say howdy to yer teacher," Sam said.

Max, uncomfortable in his clean buckskin shirt and leggings, dug his bare feet into the dirt and spoke shyly. "Howdy, ma'am."

The teacher looked down at him in stunned surprise. Her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "Why, he's an Indian!" she cried. "We don't take Indians in this school."

Sam stared at her. "He's my son, ma'am."

The teacher curled her lip cuttingly. "We don't take half-breeds in this school, either. This school is for white children only." She began to turn her back.

Sam's voice stopped her. It was icy cold as he made probably the longest speech he ever made in his life. "I don't know nothin' about your religion, ma'am, nor do I mind how you believe. All I do know is you're two thousand miles from Virginia an' you took my ten dollars to teach my boy the same as you took the money from ever'body else at the meetin' in the general store. If you're not goin' to learn him the way you agreed, you better take the next stage back East."

The teacher stared at him indignantly. "Mr. Sand, how dare you talk to me like that? Do you think the parents of the other children would want them to attend school with your son?"

"They were all at that meetin'," Sam said. "I didn't hear none of them say no."

The teacher looked at him. Sam could see the fight go out of her. "I'll never understand you Westerners," she said helplessly.

She looked down at Max disapprovingly. "At any rate, we can't have him in school in those clothes. He'll have to wear proper clothes like the other children."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam said. He turned to Max. "Come on," he said. "We're goin' to the store to get you regular clothes."

"While you're at it," she said, "get him a haircut. That way, he won't seem any different from the others."

Sam nodded. He knew what she meant. "I will, ma'am," he said. "Thank you, ma'am."

Max trotted along beside him as they strode down toward the general store. He looked up at his father. It was the first time he had thought about it. "Am I different than the others, Pa?"

Sam looked down at him. It was the first time he'd thought about it, too. A sudden sadness came into him. He knelt down in the dust of the street beside his son. He spoke with the sudden knowledge that came from living off the earth.

"Of course you're different," he said, looking into Max's eyes. "Everybody in this world is different, like there are no two buffalo alike or no two mules. Everybody is alike an' yet everybody is different."

By the end of Max's first year in school, the teacher was very proud of him. Much to her surprise, he had turned out to be her best pupil. His mind was quick and bright and he learned easily. When the term ended, she made sure to get Sam's promise that his son would return in the fall.

When the school closed down for the summer, Max brought his clothing back from Olsens' and settled down. During that first week, he was kept busy repairing all the damage done to the cabin by the winter.

One evening, after Max had gone to bed, Kaneha turned to her husband. "Sam," she said in English.

Sam almost dropped the leather harness on which he had been working. It was the first time in all their years together that she had called him by name.

Kaneha felt the blood rush into her face. She wondered at her temerity. Squaws never spoke to their husband except in reply. She looked down at the floor in front of her. "It is true that our son has done well in the school of the White Eyes?"

She could feel his gaze boring into her. "It's true," she heard his voice reply.

"I am proud of our son," she said, lapsing into Kiowa. "And I am grateful to his father, who is a mighty hunter and great provider."

"Yes?" Sam asked, still watching.

"While it is true that our son learns many things in the school of the White Eyes that make mighty medicine, there are things also that he learns that disturb him greatly."