He’s an Ottawa man, named Wedaase. We’ve eaten together, and now we’re sitting by the fire playing music. Father on his fiddle, Wedaase on a flute, Kwaahkwa with the drummers. Rain Bird and her friends start dancing, and later, when the music ends, Kwaahkwa’s father starts a conversation: This war that’s coming could make those other wars look easy. The Americans are marching from the east, the British from the north— from what I hear, they’re in Detroit right now. The two armies could be here soon, fighting each other—for our land. Father looks serious. Wedaase goes on, The British will give guns and ammunition to anyone who helps fight the Americans. A lot of warriors, from many places, plan to join the British because after we defeat the Americans, the British will leave this part of the country for all the tribes to share. Would there be room here—for everyone? If the British win, won’t they want to live here, too? No matter who wins, the soldiers will be hungry when they’re fighting.
