Wolf Eye, Bright Star’s son, grew into a very zealous Native American warrior. Bright Star became worried again.

They were once again having a one-on-one in the teepee; Bright Star was telling Wolf Eye what was good for him and his tribe, and he was telling her that she didn’t know what she was talking about.

If only you knew, Bright Star thought secretly.

“Bright Star, look!” Waterfall came in, carrying yellow rocks in her hands. “What’s this?”

Bright Star looked at it in dismay and despair. Just what she needed: more problems. “Gold,” she finally said. She knew the end of her world as she knew it could not be far away now. Yet she wanted to preserve her routine for even just a week longer if possible. “I wouldn’t show it to anyone else. Hide it, bury it, get rid of it, do whatever you have to. But keep it a secret.”

“Why?” Waterfall wanted to know.

“It’s worth nothing to us, but it’s valuable to the white men,” Bright Star explained. “They’ll be—”

“But then I can use it for trading!” Waterfall interrupted happily and started walking away.

“Wait, Waterfall! They’ll know you got it from here!” But Waterfall was already gone.

“What’s the big deal if they know that?” Wolf Eye wanted to know.

Bright Star didn’t answer him. If the reservation shrunk it might have disastrous consequences…

Bright Star started walking quickly after Waterfall. Waterfall was in front of her teepee, looking at the gold in her hands.

“Waterfall,” Bright Star said gently, and Waterfall looked up, “you must not trade it. It will shrink our reservation. It’s too valuable. You know that even an acre of land being taken away would cause a war. Our lives are balanced on the edge of a knife.” She paused, and Waterfall looked back down at the gold in her hands thoughtfully. “Where did you get the gold?” she finally asked.

Waterfall sighed. “I know to always trust you for you know of what you speak. I will show you.”

Waterfall got up and started walking. For once—and only a few times in her life would Bright Star ever have this feeling—she was glad for her past life. It gave her something like a prophetic gift. Often, history would repeat itself. Therefore, she could sometimes guess that something would happen. Finally, they came to a place with a small hole and a few more yellow rocks within the hole. Waterfall put the gold back and covered it up. Bright Star was still fretting over Wolf Eye. She hadn’t told him her story because she feared that he’d get ideas.

Bright Star and Waterfall’s efforts were in vain. In 1863, when Bright Star was 29, the gold was found. The government shrank the reservation to allow settlers and prospectors on, and it became more crowded. Wolf Eye (I’m sure it’s needless to say) was not happy.

While Mountain’s Breath and Wolf Eye were duking it out, Bright Star sat with her head in her hands. “How?” she asked. “How could this happen? I don’t want to run again. The anger in the tribe is boiling over, only some people can see any answer but violence! Is it not enough that we are not all dead?”

“I’m going to tell him,” Mountain’s Breath said, “he needs to hear the part of the story where you were caught.”

“Which time? Tell me, which time?” Bright Star demanded.

“By Wolf’s Cry,” Mountain’s Breath said.

Bright Star nodded her permission and left the teepee, presumably to speak with Waterfall.

“Bright Star,” Mountain’s Breath began, “was an outlaw.”

“An outlaw?” Wolf Eye asked incredulously. “How is she here now?”

“I won’t tell you everything,” Mountain’s Breath held up his hands, “she doesn’t wish me to. Wolf’s Cry thought she stole his sister, Bird’s Daughter, away from home when she was just a week old.”

“Well, did she?” Wolf Eye asked.

“She was Bird’s Daughter,” Mountain’s Breath replied. “But she gave herself up for her third family. Wolf’s Cry took her as a slave. But she never complained, never fought back. It was only when he threatened her third family that she would show protection in her eyes and actions. Now do you understand? You want to kill for yourself, but you would be hurting your family.”

God, Bright Star meanwhile prayed, I have run all my life, I don’t want to run again. But if there is a war, what other choice do I have? I despise running.

The reservation shrank and shrank and shrank and many of the younger warriors wanted to fight. It was during the 70s that the reservation was completely opened up, and Mountain’s Breath asked if they could leave since Americans were coming into a place that was specifically for the tribes.

“No,” the officer said, “you have to stay.”

Mountain’s Breath came back, dejected.

“He said we had to stay,” he explained to Bright Star. “You would think since it was ‘open’ we would be able to go.”

Years passed, and the reservation still shrank. The anger was boiling over, and Bright Star was at the end of her rope. She knew it couldn’t be long before the straw that broke the camel’s back came.

“God,” she prayed aloud, “I want to turn the other cheek, but how can I with my whole tribe revolting? I don’t want to run, but I don’t want to die. Guide me to what you think I should do.”

Seven years later, in 1877 for those of you who don’t have a calculator at the ready, in May, the U.S. pulled the last straw. They told the Nez Perce in Oregon and Washington that they had 30 days to move to Idaho. Chief Joseph was working on negotiations, and Bright Star was praying until she thought her head would explode.

Wolf Eye wasn’t mad anymore. He was seething. One of his friends came up to him.

“Wolf Eye,” the friend smiled, “I have a small band together. What say we kill some of these white men?”

“I would love it,” Wolf Eye smiled wickedly.

Bright Star was reading her Bible that night, Mountain’s Breath sound asleep. She would’ve been too, but try as she might, she couldn’t get her eyes to stay closed. There was a sudden noise outside.

She slipped out of the teepee. There was a howl, a signal. The howl had been an imitation. Bright Star’s eyes narrowed as a shadow flitted around a teepee…Wolf Eye’s teepee. Bright Star took one look at the running figure, another back at the teepee, and knew what she had to do.

She ran. Her feet were silent although her heart must’ve been beating so loudly that the Chinese could hear it in their native country. She was gaining ground on Wolf Eye who had seen a shape behind him and was running faster. Bright Star had not run in a long time, and, although it felt good, it was also tiring. How much longer would it take for Wolf Eye to run out of steam?

“Wolf Eye, stop!” Bright Star commanded, but her order went unheeded.

Someone in the woods threw a large rock at her and she ducked quickly. But it caused her to lose stride, and she rolled on the ground. When she stood up, she couldn’t see or find Wolf Eye. She took one very disappointed look at the trees and headed back. She was not disappointed that she hadn’t caught Wolf Eye, she was disappointed that he had chosen to fight.

Days later, Wolf Eye came back, smiling and with a gun in his hand. Some friends were with him.

“Four white men!” they boasted proudly. “We killed four!”

A verse from Proverbs that Bright Star had read the night before popped into her head. “So you will eat the fruit of the way you have lived. You will choke on the fruit of what you have planned.” My son is about to choke.