Strong Deer filled the tanks with gas and went down to help them get away from the dock.

"We'll find out about your mother while we're away," Edna promised him.

He thanked her gratefully. He could scarcely imagine their thinking of him when they had a big problem of their own.

Albert got into the boat carefully, holding his thumb so he wouldn't bump or jar it. "Think you can start the kicker for us, Strong Deer?" he asked. "I'm afraid it's a bit too much for Edna."

He bounded into the boat, adjusted the spark and jerked the cord. On the third try it caught, moaning monotonously in the early morning air.

Albert thanked him. "I don't know what we would do without you."

The boy's smile came and went. He didn't know what he would do without them either. He had to work while he was there, it was true, but they fed him well and paid him more than he could have gotten anywhere back in the village. And they didn't ask him to do anything that would have hurt him. It was a good place to stay. More than once he had been thankful that Rabbit Skin had found the job for him.

"Be careful," Albert warned. "And don't go out on the lake if it's rough. There are plenty of fish in the freezer. Use them for the mink."

"Ehe." He didn't know why they would trust him to take care of the mink alone and then caution him about going out on the lake when it was rough - They ought to know by this time that he knew how to take care of himself He had been born on the shores of the big body of water and knew enough to stay on land when the wind was up and when long, white-combed breakers were curling in. That was one of the first things he had learned.

They would soon find out that he knew how to take care of things while they were gone. When they came back they would see he had done as well with the mink as Albert himself would have done.

As soon as their boat was out of sight he got the fishing boat and went out to tend the nets. When he brought the fish in he built the fire to boil the suckers and then mixed them with the mink meal and the Maria from the freezer. He didn't know why the mink rancher was always so careful to feed 400 pounds to his herd. Most anybody could guess at the amount, 1 00 pounds to the box, and come out close enough, he thought. Still, Strong Deer did the same as Albert, weighing them and marking the amount of each variety on the chart near the freezer door.

It was well into the afternoon when he finished feeding the mink. The scorching mid-summer sun was high overhead, stealing his strength. He wished he could go swimming for a while, but he hadn't had dinner yet. Then, after he ate, there were nets to mend and gas to mix for the kicker so that it would be ready to use the next morning. He hadn't realized there was so much to do around the place until he had to take care of everything himself.

When he finally finished he decided to try once more to get the spirit of the deer to appear to him in a dream and agree to be his helper. He had been thinking about his mother all day. Albert and Edna said they would find out about her, and they talked about praying for her, but as far as he was concerned that hadn't done any good. He didn't even think Rabbit Skin was trying to help her. There was nobody to give him any money for it. There was nobody who really cared about her, except himself.

This would be a good time for him to ask the spirits to visit him, he reasoned. He wouldn't have to worry about Cunning Fox and his wife spoiling things. They probably wouldn't like it if they found out, but they would never know. It would be between him and the deer, and maybe the other spirits. He wouldn't tell, that was sure, and he didn't think the spirits would either. Even if they did, they wouldn't tell Albert or Edna. The way he understood it, Christians weren't on speaking terms with the Indian spirits.

He still didn't know if it would help, however. With the curse on him ft might only be a waste of time. Still confused, he left the mink ranch as soon as the work was done and went out to the place where the sweet grass grew. If he did decide to make the try, a small handful of grass was all he needed, and a double pinch of tobacco. Old Rabbit Skin had told him it didn't take much of either.

"The spirits can see the tiniest wisp of sacred smoke," the old man had explained. "And they don't have to be close. Light a dab -of it on the air-tight heater, and before the smoke reaches the ceiling the spirit you want to talk to will be on his way."

The last time Strong Deer had burned sweet grass and tobacco was in the middle of the afternoon. He'd lain down like the medicine man told him to, but sleep refused to come. It had been useless for him even to try to contact the spirits when he was awake. Everyone knew they wouldn't come unless he slept.

He decided to wait until bedtime-past bedtime. He put a double portion of sweet grass and tobacco on the heater and Iite it. He remembered what the medicine man said about such a precaution being unnecessary, but he wasn't taking any chances. The smoke curled upward and he savored its acrid smell. If the spirit of the deer was awake it would smell the smoke, and that meant it must be on its way. He lay down quickly and closed his eyes. He was going to be asleep by the time the spirit reached him.

He went to sleep presently and began to dream-but not about deer. He dreamed about his mother and the doctor and Cunning Fox and his wife. In his dream his mother was dead, and everyone said it was Strong Deer's fault.

"He put a curse on his mother," Cunning Fox was saying. "He put a curse on his mother."

"It's all Strong Deer's fault," the doctor echoed. "I tried to help her but the curse was too strong."

"We prayed for her," Edna intoned, "but our prayers were worthless against the powerful spirits. Strong Deer's mother is dead and it's all his fault. It's all his fault. It's all-"

The Indian boy jerked awake, his powerful young body trembling. It was useless for him to try to get a spirit helper. Because of the curse they wouldn't appear to him. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat up.

Maybe the spirits were trying to let him know that his mother was dead. Maybe.... He would have been sure the spirits were involved, revealing what had happened or was going to happen, had it not been for Albert and Edna being in his dream. They would never have admitted the spirits were more powerful than their God. That was sure. It had to be just a dream. Yet it seemed so real that he was shaking.

The next morning everything seemed to go wrong. Being awake half the night he had finally gone to sleep and over slept. Besides getting a late start he had to work with the kicker for a half-hour before it started. When he finally got out to the nets he found more trouble. A tourist had caught his prop in one of the nets, though it was plainly marked with buoys at each end. The tourist had found it necessary to cut his way out of the net. So, Strong Deer had to go back for the net thread and a coarse needle to mend it. It was almost noon when he finally brought in his fish.

He boiled the suckers and ground them with maria from the freezer the same way Albert did, but as he started to feed the mink the same bad tempered old male that had bitten Cunning Fox got out again. Catching him was simple enough with Blackie's help, but the gate on the pen had to be fixed, and that took a lot more time than he thought it would. It was at least an hour and a half later when he had it repaired.

"There, you old rascal!" he told the mink, returning him to his cage once more. "Let's see you get out now."

By the time he finished feeding the mink the sun was sliding down the pale sky toward the tree-rimmed horizon. Wearily he made his way back to the house, aware for the first time that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. After eating two smoked fish fillets, a piece of pemmican and half a circle of bannock, he felt better.

After sitting for a half-hour or so his attention was drawn to the Bible on the cabinet near the window. Curiously he got it and began to turn the pages. He had never looked at a Bible before. He wasn't too sure he would like it. There were so many pages and hardly any pictures, except some maps at the front. But Cunning Fox had some places marked with little pieces of paper and some sentences underlined. He couldn't figure out why Albert would want to mark in such a beautiful book. But since it belonged to him, he figured he could do anything he wanted to do with it.

Reading the words that Albert had marked was fun: "Salvation comes from trusting Christ ... it is as near as our own hearts and mouths. For if you tell others with your own mouth that Jesus Christ is your Lord, and believe in your own heart that God has raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is by believing in his heart that a man becomes right with God."

He read that over again, thoughtfully. It made him think about some of the things Cunning Fox had told him. The old man had said that many of the Indian ways were good. He had wanted a spirit when he was a boy and had gathered sweet grass to mix with tobacco in an effort to make the spirits come to him in his dreams. He thought he had found the spirit of the fox and had worshipped him for many years, taking gifts out into the bush for him and calling on him when he needed something. "But my life was full of sin," he had said. "I was a bad man until someone told me about Jesus. Only He can take away our sins and give us peace in our hearts."

Strong Deer wasn't sure, but it sounded to him as though the words in the Bible said the same things that Cunning Fox said. It would be wonderful to have the same peace the mink rancher talked about, but it couldn't be for him. He was cursed. And only because he had attempted to take one of the gifts meant for the spirits. He turned back to the Bible and read the same portion of Scripture again carefully.

The next morning when Strong Deer finished lifting the nets and putting the suckers in the cooker, he went to the mink shed. There was a possibility that Albert and Edna would be home that afternoon, and he wanted to have the pens cleaned out when they got back. He thought about cutting more wood for the cooker and lifting the net that had been cut by the sport fisherman so he could do a better job of mending it. But first he had to finish the feeding.

He stopped short at the first pen. There was something wrong! The old mink that had been so difficult to keep in his pen was lying still and motionless. "Hey, you!" Strong Deer exclaimed. "Wake up! It's dinner time!" The mink did not move. Getting a small stick the boy prodded him gently, but he was lifeless.

Two cages down another mink were dead! Strong Deer stared at the dead animal, his dark eyes questioning.

Numbly he pushed himself along the wide aisle between the rows of cages, staring at the mink. Several were dead and others were stretched out or moved listlessly on the heavy wire mesh that formed the bottoms of their pens. It seemed as though some of them hurt too much to lie still.

He couldn't understand it. He had taken care of the mink the same way as Albert did. He was positive of that. He had taken Maria from the deep freeze and boiled the suckers before he ground and mixed them. And he had used the right amount of mink meal-a bucket and a half to a feeding. Everything had been done exactly-

His forward motion froze. Suddenly he could hear the mink rancher's warning: "The fish have to be fed as soon as the ingredients are ground and mixed, especially in hot weather. Otherwise it will sour and make the mink sick. It might even kill them."

Kill them! KILL THEM! KILL THEM! The day before he had left the feed sitting in the hot sun for an hour and a half or more while he caught the mink that had gotten out and repaired its pen. It was his fault the mink had gotten sick and were dying. He had killed them!

Albert and Edna Cunning Fox had taken him in and had given him a home. And what had he done for them? When they needed him the most he had failed them. He hadn't been able even to do a simple thing like taking care of the mink properly. He had failed them! They would probably take him back to the village and get someone else to take his place. Someone who would be more careful! All of his hopes crumpled about him!