The next morning, Beckwourth awoke to the bustling sounds of Ishkali as she made breakfast. She seemed more animated than usual, and when she saw that he was stirring, she began to sing.
“It pleases me to see you so happy,” said Beckwourth.
“Look,” she smiled, gesturing outside.
Beckwourth poked his head out of the door flap and squinted. The landscape was a brilliant white.
“Ah, first snow,” he said to himself in English. His first thought was relief that they were not still out on the trail just now. He ate breakfast with Ishkali, Big Bowl, and Never Wavers, each of whom was in an unusually cheerful mood.
“It is good that it has snowed,” Beckwourth offered.
Big Bowl beamed. “Yes, it is good.”
But Beckwourth did not share their enthusiasm for the onset of winter, and at first, he c
