Tukweyit told him. His name, and his sister's name, and that he had a paper from the agency at Lapwai that allowed him to be there, which he took out and held up but did not hand over, and which the young man with the carbine leaned out of his saddle to read, moving his lips, and then sat back.
"It's a pass," the young man said. "Signed and all."
"I can see it's a pass," said Coker. He looked at Tukweyit for a long time. "You fight?"
"Yes."
"On the Salmon?"
"No. I was at Kamiah when that happened. I heard about it after." Tukweyit did not lower his eyes. "I know you had family there. Ordway told me last night. I am sorry for your cousin. The young men who did that were wrong, and our own people said so, and some of our own people died because of it, because after that there was no more talking. I had family too. My wife died at the Big Hole. She was asleep in her lodge when the soldiers came. I do not say this so you will feel sorry for me. I say it so that you know I understand what it is to bury someone and have no one to blame who will ever be made to answer for it."
Coker's jaw worked. He looked away, at the chimney.
"What the hell are you two doing to that chimney?" he said finally, in a different voice.