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world?"
    "Han," Rabbit answered. Yes. Of course, He Hopa knew she was in the women's lodge. Four Horns, after all, had been the one to urge prayers on Gray Owl.
    "It's bad your brother chooses this time to be born," He Hopa said soberly. "Winter is a time for things to die. The leaves fall from the trees, and the prairie grasses grow yellow. Bear takes to his den. He is the only wise one."
    Mastincala agreed, and Louis nodded.
    "I've had brothers born before, but always their eyes closed too soon for me to whisper their names," Mastincala said sadly. "Ate says hard times are before us, for the wasicun has a bad face for the Lakota. We will need warriors. Hinhan Hota needs a son."
    Louis nodded again, and He Hopa rose. He flung off the blanket he'd drawn tight against his shoulders, then began chanting. Each word he muttered with gritted teeth as the chill ate its way into his ancient, emaciated body. Then Mastincala looked on in disbelief as the medicine man stripped off his buckskins, leaving him naked save for a breech-clout. The boys eyed each other gravely. Then Mastincala discarded his elk robe and likewise stripped off his outer clothing. Louis did the same, and the three of them danced about the fire, shivering with cold and singing an ancient song.
    "Hear me, Wakan Tanka," He Hopa began. "We are ashes to your fire, consumed in an instant. Grant us power that our song may make the little one strong. Give him a brave heart. Send sun to warm his bones and make the blood flow quick."
    He Hopa then drew a knife and made twin cuts across his chest. Blood trickled from the wounds, and Mastincala stared in wonder at how the old medicine man cried even louder and danced with new vigor.
    "Hear me, Wakan Tanka," the Rabbit called as he drew his own knife and held the blade against his chest. Cold steel touched the bare flesh, but Mastincala couldn't bring his fingers to press the blade.
    "Have brave hearts," He Hopa urged.
    Louis drew his knife then, and Mastincala took a deep breath. He wouldn't allow his new brother to make the sacrifice alone. The knife cut shallow red lines in the taut flesh, and Mastincala fought the need to cry out. Twinges of pain brought a spasm of energy to him, and he danced as a wild man. The feel of the warm blood running down his belly startled his senses. He gazed over at Louis and noticed how much brighter the blood seemed when dripping down the nutmeg-colored flesh of his companion.
    "Ay, hah, hah," He Hopa chanted. "Wakan Tanka, hear our prayer."
    And so, on they danced until exhaustion overcame them. Louis collapsed first. Then Mastincala dropped to his knees. He Hopa, who was white-haired the day both were born, continued on until a crier brought word a boy was born to Hinhan Hota.
    "Dress yourselves, young ones," He Hopa told his freezing disciples. "You have a brother."
    "Hau!" Mastincala bellowed. "A brother!"
    Louis grinned his agreement as he hurried to pull a shirt over his bare ribs. The boys had little luck with their clothes, and finally He Hopa motioned for his women to help. The girls giggled and clucked like old hens as they warmed the youngsters. He Hopa then threw buffalo hides beside the fire and wrapped the boys like cocoons.
    Mastincala awoke the next morning still enclosed in his hide. Louis was warming his stiff joints beside the fire. Outside the sun had broken through a heavy haze, and melting snow dripped from the heavy hides covering the tipi.
    "I have a brother?" Mastincala asked.
    "Eat this," He Hopa said, shoving a flat corn cake into the Rabbit's mouth. "There is tea there. Drink it. Your father waits."
    Louis laughed to see Mastincala in such a hurry. Moments later the two boys stumbled out into the snowdrifts together. When they reached Hinhan Hota's lodge, the chief clasped them both by the shoulders.
    "Welcome your brother," Gray Owl called, motioning toward the bundle of fur clasped in old Yellow Cow's arms. The boys stepped closer, and the old woman allowed them