“You better have something to say,” she snapped in English, “and quick.” He kept pulling her away from the circle, where the people were dancing. Calling Eagle had been given a new name, Sings Wolf, and everyone seemed disgustingly elated. Elaine had tried to sit through the rest of the ceremony—Adam had practically held her down—but she saw and heard almost nothing. Calling Eagle dressed herself—himself!—as a man, starting with the breechcloth. He took a new name, Sings Wolf. He held up weapons and promised to use them against the whites. That brought a rousing chorus of hous! from the men and trills from the women. The whole time Elaine fought against dizziness that came high, lurching waves. She tried to swing Adam around and make him talk to her. He gave her a look of—what?—some maddening combination of chagrin and amusement—and pulled ahead. “Down by the creek,” he said in English. “We’ll talk.” English—good.
