Behind them, beyond the willows, were the Indian dogs.

From them came an occasional whine, a deep sigh, the snapping of a jaw, and in the gloom their bodies moved restlessly.

In the tepees was the spell of this same unrest.

Sleep was never quite sure of itself.
Men, women and little children twisted and rolled, or lay awake, and weird and distorted shapes and fancies came in dreams.
In her tepee Yellow Bird lay with her eyes wide open, staring at the gray blur of the smoke hole above.

Her husband was asleep.