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could pick out the huts, smoke drifting lazily into the blue sky above them. Three boys, playing by the water, watched us curiously. I spotted Annie sitting with some other girls scraping hides. She jumped up and waved wildly.
    The bottom of the canoe scraped on the small pebble beach. Peter had walked down to meet us. He held onto Grandmother’s arm and helped her onto the beach. She smoothed her black dress, adjusted her bonnet and stared around her with her sharp gray eyes.
    The Indian huts were covered with mats of woven grass and birch bark. Peter pulled back an animal skin covering the doorway of the nearest hut and called out something in Indian. A minute later Sarah appeared.
    Her toothless grin spread across her face. “Agatha.”
    Grandmother nodded stiffly. She rummaged in her knitting bag and brought out a pale blue scarf. She handed it to Sarah.
    Sarah beamed. She wrapped the scarf around her neck. “Pretty!” she said.
    Annie ran over. She helped me carry the washtub with Lucky to the hut. She and Peter listened carefully to my plan for Lucky. Then Peter turned and spoke in Indian to Sarah. She answered rapidly.
    â€œMy mother says Annie will take you to the den now,” said Peter. “She says this is a good time because the mother fox will be inside with her babies.”
    My breath came out in a rush. Sarah must think there was at least a chance.
    Peter turned to Grandmother and smiled. “My mother says you will be her guest while the girls are gone.”
    I looked at Grandmother in alarm. Would she be afraid to be in the Indian village by herself?
    Grandmother’s face was pale, but she straightened her shoulders and said, “Tell your mother I would like that very much.”
    Peter gave me a small leather pouch with a strap. I tucked Lucky inside and slung thestrap around my neck. The pouch bumped gently against my chest when I walked. I peeked inside. Lucky’s dark eyes stared up at me.
    Annie and I walked along a trail into the forest behind the village. Sunlight shone through the trees in long stripes. Annie chattered happily, glad to be freed from her chores. I half listened, but I was mostly thinking about Lucky. It was hard to believe I’d only had him a few days. How could I bear to give him up?
    Suddenly Annie put her hand on my arm and said, “We’re almost there.”
    We left the trail and climbed up a small grassy slope. A mound of rocks was piled at the top. My heart gave a lurch. There was a hole in the dirt at the base of the rocks. The den!
    Annie and I crouched behind some low bushes. “They’ll be in there now,” whispered Annie. “The mother fox hunts at night.”
    I slid my hand into the pouch and touched Lucky’s warm body. A sick feeling poured over me.

    I looked at Annie. Her black eyes were bright. “Do it now,” she said in a low voice.
    Lucky moved inside the pouch. Did he smell the foxes? I took a big breath. I stood up and walked softly over to the den. I crouched on the ground and pushed some leaves into a pile. Then I lifted Lucky out of the pouch and cradled him for a minute in my hands. I looked back at Annie and she smiled. I set Lucky down on top of the leaves and stroked his tiny black head.
    â€œGood-bye, Lucky,” I whispered.
    I walked back to Annie. My stomach felt hollow. As we started back down the slope to the trail, Lucky began to cry.
    Grandmother and Sarah were sitting on a blanket in the sun. Sarah was stitching blue beads onto the toe of a moccasin. Beside her, Grandmother clicked away with her knitting needles. She gave me a searching look. I glanced away, my eyes pricking with tears.
    When we were ready to go, Sarah hugged me. Annie stood on the shore and waved good-bye.
    Grandmother and I paddled across the lake in silence. I felt sick when I looked at the empty washtub. For a while, I concentrated on the line of silver water trailing from my paddle. Tiredness seeped