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and mother, and Loves Roots, under their sleeping robes, feet to the fire and heads away, like petals of a coneflower radiating from a common center.
    Presently the moon became as bright as a little sun. It shone with such dazzling silver inside the tepee that the quillwork on the parfleches and saddlebags began to glow in warm luminous colors: red, yellow, white, blue.
    Bright moonlight also fell on his father’s copper-tipped spear standing against the tripod. No Name’s eyes fixed on it. As always he saw it as a magic thing. It was wakan. Watching it, he saw the copper tip begin to glow like a long golden tooth.
    He had once seen the copper tip give off little sparks after his father had rubbed it some. His father explained why this was. Long ago when Redbird was a young man he had been told by the Thunders in a vision that he should go to the Porcupine Mountains far in the Chippewa country. There under a certain pine on the north side of the Lake of the Clouds he would find a round green ball. He was to take this green ball and return home with it and polish it until the copper shone through and then hammer it into a lance tip. The Thunders told him that as long as the copper tip was kept shiny, the Yankton Sioux would thrive. When it was not, the Yankton would wither away as the red leaves of autumn. The Thunders told him they favored shining copper because it gave off little sparks in imitation of their great sparks.
    No Name knew it as a truth that the Thunders liked the copper tip. Once, as he and his father and mother were eating their evening meal, a big thunderstorm came up. Suddenly there was a sound of “Thun!” and lightning came through the smokehole and struck the fire, scattering ashes and firebrands all around. Everyone sat in shock for a moment, then began to spitand vomit. When they looked at the copper-tipped lance standing against the tripod, they saw a ball of glowing green fire hovering over it. The green fireball hung there until heavy rain, coming in through the smokehole, caused it to fade away.
    No Name watched the moon move up the sky. Soon a shaft of silver touched him. It came straight at him from the Old Woman In The Moon herself. Her haunting eyes were fixed sharply on him. He hoped it meant she was going to give him a dream and tell him he would soon have his vision.
    He waited. The moon’s rays made his eyes glow like a wildcat’s. Then, remembering a remark of his father’s that too long a look at the moon-being might addle his soul and make a woman of him, he turned his head aside and closed his eyes.
    He stirred on the soft musky bedding. His flesh was still aroused from Loves Roots’ visit. He thought of Leaf. He considered stealing across to her tepee. He had heard his mother say that Full Kettle not only bound Leaf up for the night but also tied her to some stakes driven in the ground. Full Kettle was making doubly sure that Leaf would remain a virgin until she had been safely married. A young virgin was worth ten good ponies.
    Of a sudden No Name thought of his older brother, a brother he had never seen. His mother often talked about him. The telling always made her weep, and afterward she would be extra kind to No Name, giving him special treats from the parfleches of dried fruit she was saving for winter.
    His older brother’s name was Pretty Rock and he had come to Redbird and Star within a year after they were married. Pretty Rock was born lively, mischievous, loving, and Redbird had high hopes for him. Redbird indulged the boy, and early gave him a toy bow to shoot at mice and small birds. When Pretty Rock was eleven he asked to go along with a war party against the Omaha to the south. His mother, however, said he was too young. When Pretty Rock was twelve he asked to go along on a horseraid against the Pawnee to the southwest. Again his mother said no. When he was thirteen he asked to go against the Ree to the west. Once again his mother said he was too young.
    When